Page 51 of Steel

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t be. My son is much better off without him.”

“You have a strong kid on your hands.”

Another laugh sounded nervous, her fingers shaking as she slipped them through her hair. “It’s us against the world. He’s a good little boy, at least most of the time. When he’s not setting fires anyway. Don’t ask.”

Whatever story she had was hers to tell, but I gathered a sense she was crumbling around the edges. Hell, the last thing I needed to do was to get involved. She wasn’t going to be in Missoula for very long. But that same karma that was kicking me in the ass wasn’t doing her any favors either.

Still, I was surprised she was taking the nightmare in stride. While she gently pushed me away, she did so only after squeezing my arm.

When she disappeared from view, I was instantly gutted.

And I honestly wasn’t certain why.

I remained where I was, turning so I could lean against the side just to catch my breath. The rush of adrenaline was strong, so much so my entire body remained tense.

I’d felt a rush in saving them, which likely didn’t put me in the category of being a hero, but I was damn glad I’d driven by.

I remained where I was, cognizant the crowd was thinning out and that the fire department was starting to pull the hoses away. The investigation would be ongoing, but the danger had disappeared. She truly had no idea how lucky she was just to be alive.

Without bothering to look at my watch, I moved to the end of the ambulance, peering around the corner. She was currently being hounded by the press while onlookers were eagerly waiting for time to be able to talk with her. I couldn’t help but notice eagerness in several of the men, including a couple of smokejumpers who’d stopped by just to see what all the fuss was about.

Great. I had a bad feeling I wouldn’t be able to avoid talking with the press.

The police appeared to be finished asking her questions and almost instantly, Channel Eight news moved in, eager for their feel-good story for the night. The way the male reporter waslooking at her sparked something deep inside that I hadn’t expected.

Jealousy.

Hot and wild, it felt like a knife being sliced along my ribcage, a threat of pain if I dared consider her as anything but my neighbor. I was not only strangled by the intensity of emotions, I was also angry that anyone else would dare interfere with what we’d just shared.

The world didn’t need to know details about saving her life. They also didn’t need to pry into my life, which they were damn good at doing.

“Hey, Steel.”

Hearing Shannon’s voice—Shannon owned Ziggy’s—I was pulled back from the oblique series of thoughts, blinking to try to focus. “Shannon. Sorry about the commotion.”

“No big deal, but some people learned that Violet is new in town in a temporary gig and forced to stay in Jasper’s piece of shit house. Why hasn’t that place been condemned?”

Shannon was a ‘speak your mind no matter what’ kind of woman, which I genuinely appreciated. “Yeah, it should be, especially after what the last renter did to the place.”

“Damn shame about her Jeep too. Anyway, there’s talk about taking up a collection. Her boy’s birthday is in a couple weeks. She’s going to have her hands full.”

“How did you find out about Damon’s birthday?”

Her grin was positively evil. “You’re asking me that question? Damon is very talkative. He thinks a lot of you as well. You found his puppy and returned his favorite car?”

“Ha. I guess he isn’t thinking about how I wasn’t very nice to him when we met.”

“Yeah, well, you can change that. Anyway, why don’t you consider bringing them both around tomorrow? I should have a little something for them then.”

“Sure. I can do that.” I wasn’t going to tell her that Violet wasn’t my cause to keep track of, but what the hell? Why not?

“I’m glad you were around. You’re a good man.”

Maybe someone should finally provide me with the definition of ‘good.’ That was the last thing I felt I was, even after saving their lives.

Being around Violet had managed to breach a set of emotions that I’d thought was locked away permanently.