Page 103 of Burning Justice

Evan hitched his head in the direction of the receding figure. “We’ve got him.”

Deck and Evan raced after Hawkin.

Brett carried Gemma to the nearest fire truck. “Get a hose on her!” he ordered a firefighter, then began stripping off her clothes. In addition to being an eyes, nose, and throat irritant, MEK could also cause skin burns. At high concentrations, it could even cause damage to the nervous system.

“I’m okay.” She coughed. “I’m okay.”

A paramedic rushed over, then slipped an oxygen mask over her face.

Brett gripped her hand tightly. She was shaking but breathing. The adrenaline that had been pumping through his system finally began to ebb. He’d almost lost her. Again.

Over the top of the mask, Gemma’s red-rimmed eyes met his, and in that one moment he had a flash of clarity like he’d never experienced.

I can’t live without this woman in my life.

Even though Kelly Hawkin was dead, knowing he had the evidence to charge her for the Torrance Lane fire had the effect of yanking away the blinders that had been giving Brett tunnel vision. Other things in his peripheral vision came into focus.

He wanted Gemma and had no intention of letting her go. Ever.

A firefighter had begun washing off her legs with water. While a paramedic started an IV and took her vitals, the epiphanies kept barreling down the track.

What Gemma didn’t—and couldn’t—know was that he’d do whatever it took to make up for what he’d done.

Even if it took the rest of his life.

Chapter Thirty

Early Saturday evening, Gemma stood on her porch, looking into the backyard and maintaining a watchful eye on her brother, Chris, as he hooked up the gas line to her brand-new—of all things—firepit.

She shuddered. A week and a half had passed since nearly getting burned alive. Maybe a firepit wasn’t such a good idea after all. Last winter, she’d cemented the round base with natural stone. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. Now, maybe not so much.

Her other brother, Ben, pushed a button on the side of the pit. She heard a click, followed by a soft whoosh. Stepping closer, she peered over the edge of the deck. In between the shiny black stones she’d set in the firepit’s basin, blue-and-orange flames flickered as if they were alive.

Chris waved her over. “Come down here and check this out!”

Not a chance. Not today. Maybe next week. Or next month, when the weather started changing. “Thanks, Chris. It’s perfect. I’d better check on Dad and Rory.”

She went back inside to where her father and Rory were putting the finishing touches on the living room’s baseboard molding. The smell of fresh paint wafted into the kitchen. The ka-tunk of pneumatic nailers echoed in the air.

After working on her house alone for nearly a year, she’d made headway, but ever since her near-death experience, she’d become impatient to finish the renovation quickly and really start living in the house, not just subsisting in it. So she’d finally accepted what her family had been offering since the day she’d signed the deed.

Their help.

But there was so much more to it than that. In the end, trying to do everything alone hadn’t proved a thing. All it had proven was that she couldn’t do it alone. She had to admit even her time working with Brett had shown her two heads were better than one.

It was becoming a thing now, this asking for help and working with other people. Between her father and brothers, plus the contractor she’d hired and paid extra to install the new deck, she’d have the place whipped into shape in no time. True, she’d be watching her bank balance dwindle and eating ramen noodles for the rest of the year, but it would be worth it in the end.

“Come over and hold this for me, will ya?” Rory said.

Gemma crouched so she could hold the end of the molding while her brother nailed it into place.

Her father positioned another piece of trim on the chop saw. “How are your burns?” He nodded to her lower legs. Wearing shorts for comfort left her slightly pink ankles and shins exposed.

“They’re fine, Dad.” Thanks to Brett. Given how soaked with MEK her clothes had been, if he hadn’t acted so swiftly…

A wave of nausea rolled through her at the thought of what could have happened. She’d have been toast. For real.

As it was, her throat hadn’t been permanently affected by the vapors, and her mild burns would heal. Brett, Deck, and Evan were also fine, although Blaze had suffered some burns to the pads of his feet. Blaze had probably saved all their lives.