Branded(51)
“Fire’s out. You guys okay?”
Pulling myself away from DJ, I nod my head as DJ storms out the doors, grabs a fistful of Jackson’s shirt, twists him around and slams him against the back of the wet ambulance.
“WHAT IN THE FUCK HAPPENED? YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE MAKING SURE NOTHING HAPPENS TO HER, YOU INCOMPETENT FUCK!” DJ shouts into Jackson’s face.
I jump down from the back of the ambulance and grab onto DJ’s shoulders, using all of my strength to pull him off of Jackson.
“DJ! Let go!” I order. “Let him go!”
DJ gives him one last rough shove before releasing his shirt and holding his hands in the air.
“I’m fine! No one got hurt, calm down.”
DJ whirls on me and stares at my face like I’ve grown two heads. “Are you fucking kidding me? He had one job to do. ONE!”
Jackson takes a step towards us and lifts his hand to rest it on DJ’s shoulder. I give him a warning look and pray he’s not that stupid. If he touches DJ right now, he’s going to get his ass beat.
He quickly drops his hand.
“I swear to God, I haven’t taken my eyes off of this fucking truck ever since I saw you two come out here. It’s been quiet and dark all night long. Not one person has come or gone from this entire block since you guys got here two hours ago,” Jackson explains.
DJ keeps his eyes glued to mine and I can tell by all the deep breaths he’s taking that he’s trying to calm himself down. I grab onto both of his hands and squeeze them tight.
“The fire marshal will have to come out here and give an official ruling, but it’s pretty obvious by the circular shape the fire took around the truck that an accelerant was used,” one of the guys from the fire station informs us.
“We could smell gas from inside,” DJ finally speaks.
“He must have come from the opposite side of the ambulance, out of my line of sight, and used some sort of sprayer from underneath the vehicle to get it everywhere. I swear to you, I didn’t see anything until the flames exploded all around it,” Jackson tells us. “I flew out of my car, yelled inside to the station and then ran over here and started screaming at you guys inside.”
DJ takes another deep breath and then hangs his head. I can tell he’s feeling guilty and it kills me. This wasn’t his fault. It has nothing to do with him. He just had the unfortunate luck of being with me.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” I whisper, fighting back tears.
His head jerks up and he lets go of my hands, bringing them up to cup my face.
“Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare blame yourself for what happened! This is NOT your fault, Phina. Do you hear me?”
I nod, even though I don’t believe him. If I were alone, if I was as far away from DJ as possible, he never would have gotten caught up in this mess.
DJ hugs me to him, exchanging a few more tense words with Jackson and then thanking the guys from the firehouse. With one arm still around me, he pulls his cell out of his front pocket and calls Dax.
“Alright, I think that’s everything we need,” Dax tells us as he finishes clacking away at his computer, taking our statement. “You sure you guys don’t want to go to the hospital? Get checked out for smoke inhalation?”
DJ turns to look at me and I shake my head. I just want to go home. I want to curl up in bed and stop thinking about how I’m fucking up DJ’s life by being with him.
The door to Dax’s office opens and a tall brunette walks in with a cup of coffee in her hands. He smiles at her, giving her the full-on Dax double dimples and I shake my head, knowing this poor woman doesn’t stand a chance.
“Harley, these are my friends, DJ and Phina,” he introduces, giving her a wink as she pauses next to us.
“Nice to meet you. I apologize in advance for my behavior,” she tells us.
Before I can ask her what the hell she’s talking about, she walks right behind Dax’s desk and dumps the cup of hot coffee right in his lap.
“MOTHERFUCKER!” Dax shouts, jumping up from the chair while he glares at her.
“Your coffee, sir,” she tells him in a sickeningly sweet voice.
She immediately turns on her heels and I give her a huge smile as she walks by.
“Oh, I really, really like you,” I tell her with a laugh.
She nods in my direction before exiting his office, slamming the door behind her so hard the walls rattle.
DJ lets out a low whistle from the chair next to me while Dax tries to hold the soaked crotch of his pants away from his junk.
“What did I tell you about banging the women you work with? She didn’t shoot off your balls, but she sure did a nice job with the third degree burns,” I laugh.