Debra Webb - Tremors

“Sure…I’ll be right there,” he lied for her benefit. He couldn’t see a damn thing. Nothing but monochromatic heaps of rubble.

“It’s bad, Joe,” she murmured so softly he scarcely heard her.

“I’ve seen worse.” Another flat-out lie, he thought, moving as quickly as he dared. “Tell me what you see out your windows.”

His heart pounded so hard during the silence that followed that his head filled with the roar of blood rushing there, pushing against his eardrums.

“Piles of broken concrete,” she said, her voice not shaking quite so badly now. “There’s a support pillar lying against the hood of my car. Maybe another one on top, since the roof over the front seat is bashed in.”

A new surge of fear hit like a fist to his already tense gut. “You got plenty of room to move around in there?” he asked carefully, not wanting to give away how much that part concerned him.

“Yes…sort of. I moved to the cargo area in hopes of getting out through the rear hatch, but I didn’t have any luck kicking out the glass.”

“Is the hatch clear of debris?” That would be a stroke of fiercely needed luck.

“Partially.”

“Good. That’s the way we’ll get you out then.” He made the statement as if it were a given, but the farther he moved into this level, the dimmer that prospect looked.

The structure still moaned, and Joe knew there was a real risk of total collapse. Time was running out.

“Lisa, do me a favor, would you?” He had to pinpoint her location. Now.

“Be careful, Ripani,” she said softly, almost laughingly. “The last time I did you a favor, it turned out badly.”

She was remembering Salvage’s injuries…the way she’d healed the animal that was now part of the firehouse team. No, it wasn’t Salvage or his injuries on her mind. She was likely recalling his callousness, his ability to walk away as if nothing had happened between them. She didn’t have to say it; he understood. And he had walked away, just like that. The decision had been mutual once he’d made his position clear. He’d had his reasons. But he knew she hadn’t understood, though she’d claimed to. He wasn’t even sure he could explain it. Now definitely wasn’t the time to try.

“No strings attached, babe,” he teased, infusing the words with a chuckle. “Try the horn or radio.” He doubted the radio worked since the power windows didn’t, but it was worth a shot. And though it could be dangerous to sound a horn in such an unstable structure, Joe had to take the risk. “I need to know exactly where you are.”

“Okay.”

He held his position while he waited for her to attempt to signal him. He sweated out every single second before the sound of the horn cut through the silence. “Once more,” he told her. He homed in on the direction of the sound. “Gotcha.”

“Hurry, Joe,” she urged, the fear back in her voice now. “I don’t know how much longer the roof is going to hold out.”

Did that mean the weight of the rubble was pressing in on her? Joe swore under his breath and moved faster. He had to get her out of there. Every instinct warned him that total collapse was imminent.

“Give us a status, Cap’n.”

O’Shea’s voice cut into his thoughts. Her connection would override the patch with Lisa.

“Stay off the link,” he growled. He wanted nothing between him and Lisa.

“We need a status on your situation,” she repeated. “I’ve got a canine standing by. Do you need backup?”

O’Shea was prepared to come in. Joe imagined it had more to do with saving her best friend than with supporting her captain, but he’d give her that. He wanted to save Lisa, as well. Though Shannon O’Shea was professional to the bone, even the best-trained rescue workers couldn’t completely set aside emotion when someone close was in danger.

“Stand down, O’Shea,” he ordered. “I’ve got the situation under control. Now clear the link.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Joe, are you still there?”

Lisa’s voice. He wondered now why he’d never noticed how pleasant it was. It touched him as gently as a butterfly’s wing and with a sweetness that took his breath. How could any man have known this woman intimately and not be affected, even if he had walked away?

How could a guy walk away from a woman like Lisa?

What was wrong with him? What idiot would pass on a future with a woman like her? O’Shea had pointed that out to him the day after he’d split with Lisa. Up until then, Shannon had never once given him any grief on the job. And then only that one time. She’d said her piece and hadn’t spoken of it since. Still, he knew she was disappointed in him where Lisa was concerned. O’Shea carefully kept her feelings out of their professional relationship, but Joe knew where she stood on the issue of Lisa. And like Lisa, O’Shea just didn’t understand that he’d done the only thing he could.

He had those old reliable reasons for the decision he’d made. The ones that had kept him single when his friends, as well as his squad members, had gotten married one by one. But he knew what was right for him. A permanent relationship had no place in his life.

Any fool could see that.

He just couldn’t figure why it felt so damn wrong right now.

Truth be told, it had felt wrong way before now. He’d missed Lisa. Thought about her more than he would admit even to himself. Wanted her desperately.

But having her would be…a mistake.

He’d told himself that three weeks ago.

Jesus, he prayed, don’t let this be the Almighty’s way of showing him what a mistake he’d made.

“Joe?”

The desperate plea in her voice tugged hard on Joe’s heartstrings. Strings he hadn’t realized he possessed. But then, he’d realized a lot of things in the past four or five minutes.

“I’m almost there,” he assured her.

“Joe, I want you to know that—”

“You don’t have to say anything,” he said, cutting her off. He wasn’t sure he could deal with true confessions right now. Good, bad or indifferent.

“You always were a stubborn male chauvinist pig,” she snapped.

His eyebrows shot upward. “I guess I can’t deny that,” he allowed humbly. At least if she was pissed at him she wouldn’t have time to focus on her fear.

“Deny it?” she said hotly. “Please. The only person you ever think of in a relationship is you. You just pretend no one counts except you, then when you walk away, it doesn’t ping your conscience because you’ve convinced yourself you didn’t do anything wrong or hurt anyone.”

“Okay,” he relented. “I was wrong. I shouldn’t have slept with you then walked away.”

He could almost see her stewing on the other end of the communications link. Without a word, she telegraphed her fury with a quiet that thickened between them.

“That’s all it was to you, wasn’t it?” she said. “Plain old physical gratification. Not making love, just sex.”

His frown deepened. Maybe he did deserve a good tongue-lashing, but she’d enjoyed the sex just as much as he had. To pretend otherwise was a flat-out denial of the truth.

“We were both over twenty-one, honey,” he retorted, his own irritation surfacing now. “It’s not like I talked you into anything you didn’t want to do.”

The silence was different this time, and he muttered a self-deprecating curse. Talk about inserting foot in mouth. Good thing they were on this line alone.

“Look, I shouldn’t have said that. Let’s just focus here.” He glanced around at the destruction and then shook himself. What the hell was he doing, letting his attention stray? Only Lisa had ever been able to do that to him.

She sighed. “Sorry. You’re right. Just get me out of here, please.”