Playing with Fire by Mia Dymond Read Free Book Online

tapped her fingers against her chin. “No
medication and no time off leaves you one choice.”
    “What’s that?”
    “Therapy. You’ll have to open up and talk to
me then follow my advice.”
    Their eyes met and locked, a silent
understanding passing between them. He took a deep breath and
leaned forward with his elbows on his knees.
    “Zach and I were always the first ones in. We
worked as search and extraction, responsible for locating a victim
and getting him out. The others fought the fire.
    The call was a two-story house fire, already
engulfed when we arrived. A woman and her two children stood
outside, her husband was trapped in the house. We were searching
the house, room by room when the ceiling fell and we were
separated. I couldn’t find Zach or the victim. They both perished
in the fire.” The never-ending pain reared its ugly head. “My SCBA
failed and I passed out.”
    “SCBA?”
    “Self Contained Breathing Apparatus. Dylan
pulled me out but Zach didn’t make it.”
    “You feel guilty about getting out without
him,” she concluded gently.
    “I should have stayed with him. He shouldn’t
have died alone.”
    “He didn’t die alone, Shane.” Her eyes
brimmed with compassion. “You lived in his heart. Maybe there’s a
reason why you survived.”
    “And what would that be?” he snapped.
    “I don’t know. Perhaps time will tell. Are
the nightmares always exactly the same?”
    “No. We’re always in the same situation. He
dies in different ways, but he always ends up dead. I can still
hear the echo of his ringing PASS.”
    “PASS?”
    “Another acronym. Personal Alert Safety
System. It’s an alarm that tells us when a firefighter’s down.”
    “Was that first time you’d ever experienced
trouble during a fire?”
    “Trouble? No. Death? Yes.”
    “Has your job been affected?”
    “I haven’t been back in since. I fight fire
on paper now.”
    “By doing inspections.”
    “That, and investigating after the fire. I’m
a licensed fire investigator.”
    “Any flashbacks?”
    “Not flashbacks. Memories.”
    “Memories of Zach?”
    “Not really. I remember details. Things that
happened, things we said.”
    “Have you ever tried to force yourself to
remember good times between you and Zach?”
    The warmth of her suggestion surrounded his
wounded heart and began to apply a healing salve. “How did you
manage to be both beautiful and intelligent?”
    Her glossy lips sparkled as she grinned. “I’m
serious about manipulating the outcome of your nightmares.”
    Too tired to argue, he agreed. “Whatever it
takes. I’m sick of living like this.”
    “How do you occupy your time other than work
and cartoons?”
    He scrubbed a hand down his face. “Not like
you think. I work out a lot.”
    Her cheeks pinkened and he wondered if her
breasts would carry the same pretty blush if he touched them. His
body ached again and this time it had nothing to do with Zach or
the fire and everything to do with the woman sitting in his living
room.
    As if uncomfortable by his silence, she
cleared her throat. “How has Zach’s death affected your team?”
    His shoulders slumped. “Dylan and Maddie have
their own problems. Jake refuses to bond with anyone, even women.
And the others seem to seek comfort in groupies.”
    “You feel responsible.”
    “I should have pulled him out.”
    “Let’s try an outlet to occupy your emotions.
Quite a few of my patients paint and find it very therapeutic.”
    He lifted an eyebrow and bit his tongue to
keep from calling her crazy.
    “I’ll e-mail you a list of supplies.”
    “How do you know I’ll do this?”
    She shrugged and stood. “Just a hunch.” She
reached into her bag and then handed him an iPod and earphones.
“Lie down and get comfy.”
    Suspicion nudged him. Or was that hope?
“Why?”
    “Doctor’s orders. Come on. Slip off your
shirt ... I mean shoes,” she stammered.
    He handed back the music player and bent to
unlace his boots, tempted to