Thomas is my bodyguard until John is found. Alex hit me with that nugget of information this morning, right before Jake showed up to drive me to work and Alex back to his home. My first instinct is to argue that it's not necessary.
After last night, I figure I should listen to that annoying voice in my head —that sounds too much like Alex these days—which keeps telling me Alex has been doing everything he can to protect me and that fighting with him typically ends with me in harm's way. It's a place I no longer want to be.
And I hate fighting with Alex. Although making up is amazing.
Having Thomas sitting around my office while I'm discussing confidential client information, however, is a problem. So we devised a plan whereby Thomas sits in the corner of the conference room with his headphones in and plays games on his iPhone.
Sarah knocks on the door as Lisa, me, and the rest of the litigation team are busy numbering exhibits. "Kylie, there's a call for you."
I specifically told her not to interrupt me. "Take a message."
"It's the fire department. They said it's an emergency."
Everyone in the room stops what they're doing. Thomas takes his headphones out, in all likelihood noticing the shift in the room, sits up in his chair, and pays closer attention to me.
I pick up the phone on the side table. "Kylie Tate."
Replacing the handset after finishing the call, I turn to Lisa and Thomas.
"Lisa, call Alex's office. Tell Amy to put you through to him and explain that you have a message from me and that it's an emergency. Tell him that Thomas and I are heading over to my house. It's on fire."
I grab my cell phone and purse. "Thomas, let's go." I head to the elevator.
Blue barricades block the street I live on and keep my nervous neighbors at bay. I approach the police officer keeping people back. He blocks me and tells me to go home.
I show him my driver's license. "I'm Kylie Tate. This is my home. The fire department called me."
He looks at my license and hands it back to me. "Miss Tate, you'll need to stay here until it's safe to go in. The fire chief will be over to update you on the situation. I'll let him know you've arrived, but you need to remain here for the time being."
Officer Kincaid, with his baby face and all of two minutes on the police force, waits for me to acknowledge his instructions before he turns and walks away.
Thomas steps behind me. "Miss Tate, Mr. Stone is on his way."
"Thanks, Thomas. If they let me in before he gets here, make sure the police officers know he's with me."
"Yes, ma'am."
Remnants of smoke seep out through the upstairs windows. My head is reeling. What could have happened in the few hours since I left this morning? Did I leave something on?
My life—my past—all of it is turning to ash before my eyes. Everything I've worked so hard for, the things I never had growing up, will soon be gone. The memories of my childhood, my dad, and those pieces of history that were entrusted to me exclusively—all of it destroyed. A large lump develops in my throat, and I concentrate on not collapsing under the weight of my sudden depression.
A short, white-haired man introduces himself, but I miss his name. After a brief discussion and internalizing his fire department uniform, I'm able to surmise that he's the fire chief Officer Kincaid promised would talk to me. He informs me the fire started in the front bedroom upstairs and spread throughout the entire top floor. The main floor along with the basement sustained some fire damage, but mostly smoke and water damage.
"Initial indications are that an accelerant was spread on the bed."
I feel Alex’s presence behind me as the electricity in the air becomes fully charged whenever he is in close proximity to me. I turn and wrap my arms around his neck, and he pulls me close.
He reaches across to shake hands with the fire chief, still securing me against him with his other arm. "Alex Stone. Can you update me on what you know so far?"
I tune out the discussion, bury my head into his neck, and release a long, tightly held exhale. Alex will take over and allow me to mentally break down. It feels so good to have him to lean on. I have always had to be strong, to take care of others. But having his arm around me, supporting me, I'm finally able to let someone take care of me.
"I'm going to take a look upstairs," Alex whispers in my ear. "Thomas will stay with you."
"No, I want to come."
Alex begins to object.
"I'm okay, Alex. You're here. I can face it."
He takes my hand, and we carefully head up the stairs.
I stop abruptly inside the door of my bedroom. The bed is in the center of the room, the bed sheets now a black pile on the floor. There is not much left of the mattress. How is it possible that a few hours ago, Alex and I were snuggled together, talking, laughing, kissing?
What if the fire had started then? What if we had been unable to get out of the house? I close my eyes and shake the thoughts from my mind. It didn't happen. By the grace of God, we were gone before the house went up in flames.
Graffiti is spray-painted on the walls. Blood-red messages, the most disturbing along the wall where the bed usually abuts.
Fucking whore. You will pay.
I grip Alex's hand tighter. "John," I mutter. "He was here last night. I thought I was seeing things. There was a man at the back door when I came downstairs to let you in. He must know you spent the night."
Alex's eyes darken, and he squeezes my hand. "We'll find him, Kylie. He'll make a mistake, and we'll get him then."
Jake enters the room and glances at me. "Mr. Stone."
Alex leans in so Jake can pass whatever information he has out of my earshot.
Frustrated, I yank on Alex's arm. "Don't keep me in the dark. This is my life, and I deserve to know what's going on."
Alex nods at Jake.
"Miss Tate's Jeep is not in the garage. I suspect whoever started the fire also stole the vehicle."
Alex slides his gaze over to me but speaks to Jake. "Do the police know?"
Curbing my annoyance with the two men in front of me, I remain stoic and calm on the outside. They apparently need proof that I can handle the circumstances. It's starting to get my dander up, and I resent being treated like a child.
Jake shakes his head. "No, sir. I wanted to inform you first before speaking with anyone else."
Alex pulls his hand down his face and blows the air from his lungs. "Let them know. Give them all the tag and registration information, so they can begin looking for it."
Jake turns to leave but then stops. "Do you want me to include Sysco in the information to the authorities?"
"No," Alex says. "We'll take care of that part. Text me if you find out anything new."
A slow burn ignites in my chest. I'm raging inside, and all my thoughts center on how to punish John. The sadistic bastard is going to regret screwing with me. I want to turn the tables on him, torture him in the same sadistic manner. Fury builds within me, my fear now hatred, the line between self-preservation and revenge blurring.
I wrap Alex in an embrace and place my lips close to his ear. I don't need anyone else in the room to overhear me. "We need to talk before discussing John with the authorities."
Alex grazes the side of my face with his lips, and slides his hand into my hair. To anyone looking at us, it must appear he is comforting me. "Agreed, but we need to get out of here. They'll want to interview you as soon as things settle down."
"Follow my lead." I step away and force a deep sob from my lungs, heave my shoulders, and bury my face in my hands. "I can't be here anymore. It's too much."
The act draws the attention of everyone in the room.
Alex drapes his arm around my shoulder. "Shh...it's okay." He leads me to the door.
The fire chief steps toward us and puts up his hand to stop us from leaving.
Alex buries my head in his chest and speaks to the chief. "I'll take her to my house, so she can pull herself together before you question her. I don’t think she'll be much use to you in her current state. My driver has given all my contact information to the police."
Sitting in the back of the SUV, Alex squeezes my hand and smiles. I don't smile back. I'm pissed, and I want revenge. John’s reign of terror frightens me. It needs to stop. I want justice, and I want it to hurt.
"I don't care what you have to do, Alex. Find him." My voice is measured and controlled. "I will no longer allow that asshole to hijack my life."
Alex caresses my face, but his eyes are hard. "We'll find him, Kylie."
I lean into his hand and close my eyes. Having someone take on my burdens is so foreign to me. It's soothing and strange and a little overwhelming. I've never had a protector, a hero. But clinging to Alex, I soak in this wonderfully weird feeling and allow it to quiet my soul.
I need to recharge. Going on the offensive against John is bound to get ugly, but I will not be his victim anymore.