He did the same to her.
Seriously? Did he think she was a rookie?
What did she expect? Guys liked the idea of her being a cop for about ten minutes. Just until she had to do her job and go into the danger.
Sylvie turned her back on him and approached the Jeep. She breached the pines and came up on the rear of the vehicle. With one hand, she grabbed her flashlight and shined the beam into the rear window. Through the back driver’s side door, she peered inside.
No signs of life were evident.
“There’re snowmobile tracks out here,” Ian whispered loudly from the other side of the trees. “Whoever he is, he’s long gone.”
“Well, his Jeep won’t be here when he returns. I’ll have it processed for prints before the morning.”
“Get away from the car.”
Sylvie shined the light in the direction of Ian. “Excuse me? You keep forgetting this is what I do. I go in when you can’t. I definitely don’t take orders from you. I may have to protect you with my life, but the oath ends there.”
“Get...away...from...the car!”
Ian’s tone had Sylvie questioning her decision to approach the vehicle in the first place. Did he know something?
Slowly, she stepped back through the pines. His arms were around her so fast, lifting her frame off the ground and across the road. She barely had time to fight back with anything more than a few twists of her body when a flash of light lit the sky above and an explosion rushed at her from behind.
A painful ringing filled her head. It took her a few seconds to realize she was on the ground with Ian over her. His head of hair brushed her neck. Her gun and flashlight were gone to places unknown, her ears pierced with the effects of the blast.
Her lungs emptied in the toss. They burned with a need for air that Ian’s weight didn’t allow for replenishing.
Sylvie banged a fist on his back. “Can’t—” she pushed out in a squeak “—breathe.”
Ian moaned, but didn’t move quickly enough for her. She banged three more times before his head lifted with a dazed look of confusion.
Had he lost consciousness? She couldn’t assess him until she could breathe.
Ian snapped to and rolled off her, allowing air to enter her body. Heat roared at her from the fire across the road, fighting her for the oxygen. She heaved over in spasms.
“Easy. Slow it down. Breathe into your nose, not your mouth.” Ian’s soothing commands and his hand on her back told her he’d returned to her side.
But what about him? He’d taken the brunt of the blast. Was he burned?
Sylvie followed his directions but willed her lungs to fill enough for her to help.
“Let me check you out,” she said on a breathy whisper.
“Just a little singed. The coat’s trashed. I can feel wind on my back, and it actually feels good. I probably won’t need a haircut for a while, either.” He laughed, but she didn’t think she’d heard such nervousness in him before.
“Just humor me and turn around.”
“Fine, but I may not be decent.” More nervousness threaded through his voice. He was scared.
But then so was she.
“The trees took the brunt.”
Sylvie glanced at the flaming pine trees with the burning car behind them. The trees had saved their lives.
But Ian had saved hers by telling her to get away from the car in the first place.
“How did you know?” Her voice cracked.
She touched his obliterated jacket pieces, pulling them away from his body. His shirt stuck to him. He grunted when she lifted it.
“You’re burned, but I don’t think anything more than second degree in a couple spots. It’ll feel like a bad sunburn.”
“Thanks, Doc.” Ian rolled and lay in the snow, gritting his teeth against the cold, but it seemed welcoming at the same time.
“You still haven’t told me how you knew.”
“Just a feeling of impending doom. I’m attuned to stuff like that.”
“From experience?”
“You could say that. You face it enough times and you start to live on the balls of your feet, ready to spring into action or retreat, whatever comes first. Besides, it looked like a setup. Like I was supposed to find that car. Me. Not you. Regardless of your oath and duty you didn’t sign up for this.” He lifted up from the snow and leaned in close. “Leave me here. Go home to your son. I would never forgive myself if he lost you because of me.”
“Because you’re not worth me doing my job?”
Cruisers’ lights and sirens blared off in the distance as they stared at each other.
“You shouldn’t have come looking for me at my apartment.”
“And find you washed up on the riverbank instead? I don’t think so. Someone wants you six feet under, Mr. Stone. They’re going to have to go through me first.”
“You see the flames, right? The Spencers are your friends but with me around they won’t think twice about leaving your son an orphan.”
Cars rushed in and squeaked to a stop around them. As glad as she was to have their help, they could use this scene against her, especially if Preston was right in his thinking and somebody wanted her off the job. “Can you not tell them I approached the vehicle alone?”
Ian eyed her quizzically. “Aren’t you the chief?”
“Yes, but I still have two more months on my probationary period and someone on the force may be looking for any slipup to stack against me. Please.”
“Only if I get a sled.”
“No way. You’re going into protective custody. I can’t allow you to go up the mountain with us.”
“And I can’t allow you to put yourself in danger for me.”
“It’s my job, Ian.”
“Not for long if I tell them you approached the car without backup.”
“That’s blackmail. I can arrest you, you know.”
Ian shrugged. “I’m always ready to spring into action, whatever that might be. In this case it will be your choice how this all goes down. So, what’s your decision, Chief? Do I get a sled or do your weekends open up?”
“You could be killed,” she said quietly.
“And so could you. Don’t make me responsible for leaving your son alone in this world. I have to look myself in the mirror every day. You should know about mirrors more than anyone. You’ve made sacrifices to give Jaxon a good life.”
His reference to her circumstances as a pregnant teen silenced her. He’d obviously done the math. However, she didn’t feel his judgment like so many others. Just his understanding. She did what she had to do to look herself in the mirror every day. She couldn’t take that from Ian.
“Chief!” Smitty fell to his knees beside her. His wisps of balding hair fell in his face. “Are you hurt?”
“No. I’m fine. Ian has lost his coat. Did you bring the winter gear? He’ll need a set.”
“A full set? Is he going up the mountain?” Smitty glanced Ian’s way in confusion. Caution took over. “Who are you?”
“He