This is my adaptation of “Rebel With A Cause” by Kim Hansen.

The Rebel
Chapter 22

The heat was scorching. The smoke blinding. And Brenda was surrounded by both.

Coughing as a blast of wind clogged her lungs with ash and burned her eyes with flying
debris, she held up her hands to fight off a merciless foe and struggled to see where she
was going.

The only chance she had was to get back to the car. The only way to escape was to return
to the road the fire was threatening to jump. But it was getting impossible to see and
difficult to breathe.

Ducking behind a pile of lumber, she tried to gather her wits and think. It had been a
stupid idea to come back to the building site, but she hadn’t been able to help herself.

Gasping, she caught a mouthful of fresh air carried to her by an ocean breeze and turned
to stare at the beams and girders standing behind her like silent sentinels as smoke swirled
around them. She’d finished touring one of the nearly complete structures only a short
time ago with Kevin Carmichael. It had been an hour or so before quitting time when the
tour had finished, but she had headed for her car and home rather than the office with only
a vague twinge of guilt. She’d worked hard over the past couple of weeks. She figured
she deserved an hour or two of unscheduled downtime, especially considering the night
that lay ahead.

Already planning an evening with Jax, she’d hurried back to the house to shower, change
and prepare for a night of promise. She’d ignored the nerves, the butterflies and doubts as
she entered the house and pushed aside the questions about who he was. Who they were
separately didn’t have to come between who they were together. Catching a whiff of
smoke she had turned on the stairs. That’s when she noticed the flames.

Uncertain at first if it was real, she’d stood holding her breath and praying that she had
only been imagining things. She blinked and looked again. The flames remained.

The fire was up the coast, far away from her little house, but the fire glowed where it
could do the most damage. At the Malibu construction site. She pulled her car keys out
of her purse and dropped it onto the stairs. All of the hard work that she and Jax had
worked on for the last couple of weeks was on the verge of going up in flames. She had
to do something.

She ran back down the stairs, out the door, and to her car. She pulled onto the road and
grabbed her cellphone, worried about Kevin Carmichael and the men still working at the
construction site, she tried to call the site. There was no answer. So she had called 911
emergency, but no one was able to come. Not right away.

The fires had units scattered across the counties surrounding L.A., and equipment was
scarce. No guarantee could be given for speed, so she’d hung up her cellphone and
concentrated on making her way to the construction site.

Speeding up the coast highway, oblivious to the retreating traffic and any personal danger,
praying she was wrong and the fire was nowhere near where she thought it was. But on
the way to the rescue and to perhaps find reassurances, she’d gotten trapped instead.

Brenda gasped as the wind abruptly shifted from off the ocean to the land and back again
and threw sand in her face. The wildfire was making the breeze crazy. Erratically it
changed direction.

Trying to catch some of the sea air, she took a deep breath and felt the flames scorch her
lungs and tears squeeze from her eyes. She smothered a cry or startled pain and cursed
her stupidity again. She should never have gotten out of her car once she’d arrived and
seen that Kevin and his crew were all gone. After determining that the fire was actually
close, really near enough to consume the work done so far, she should have turned around
and gone back to the house. But she’d wanted to see if the flames had jumped the road.

Kevin had decided to do the beach front property first. The land on the other side of the
coastal highway would wait until last for completion. That meant if the fire stayed on the
other side of the two-lane route, the site would be saved, and that blind hope had seen her
get out of the car to try and look around the property on foot.

Rather than risking being cut off if the flames managed to leap over the cement, she’d
thought it better to leave the car on the highway and complete the investigation on foot.
That was her second mistake.

Coughing as haze swirled around her, she left the pile of lumber behind and tried again to
get where she’d parked the car. But she couldn’t see it. She couldn’t see anything. Not
until the breeze whipping back and forth across the seashore suddenly ripped the smoke
from the sky.

But the clearing didn’t last. It came and went very quickly. Yet it lingered long enough
for Brenda to lift her head and see her car. It was sitting where she’d left it. It was
waiting on the road that could see her escape.

Eagerly she took a step forward, preparing to run, but before she could go any farther, the
hill behind the vehicle abruptly exploded into flames.

She threw her arms up in front of her face in self-defense, a startled cry tearing from her
throat. The fire seemed to have ignited out of thin air, but in reality a piece of floating ash
had started it. And more ash erupted into the sky as the dry scrub lining the ground on the
hill just beyond her car burst into a wall of crackling fury.

The intensity of the sudden heat and light drove her back. She stumbled backward even as
the firestorm roared toward her. But in that instant, she knew she was going to die.

***

Jax slammed on the brakes. The highway was behind him. He was on a dirt path instead,
rocking the hell out of his shocks, but he hadn’t been given a choice. He’d been forced to
leave the road. Not by the flame and ash that was littering the sky, but by a black pickup
truck that had come roaring out of the smoke straight at him.

The only way to escape collision had been to drive onto one of the makeshift tracks Kevin
Carmichael and his crew had made with their equipment.

Jax again cursed at the insanity of the fleeing driver. They both could have been killed by
the driver’s panic, but the dirt track was proving better than the highway. It ran closer to
the water and was farther away from the haze. That meant he could see more.

Jumping from the car and leaving it to stand deserted by the spreading beams of a growing
home, Jax struggled against the heat and the wind and ran toward the spot where he
thought he’d seen Brenda’s car. He had to get to her. He had to get her out of the site
and back into the city. But first, he had to find her.

Running up a sandy hill, he squinted against ash and whirling sand, ignoring the blistering
heat and danger of flickering flame approaching ahead and stopped when the breeze
abruptly cleared the air.

For a fleeting moment he could see everything. The car, the road, the hill, the land, but it
was all forgotten when directly ahead a fireball ignited and burst with a shower of sparks
across the sky.

He ducked at the sight, swore when he realized he’d never reach the car in time if Brenda
was inside, and yelled when he saw her off to his left. But she couldn’t hear him. Not
above the scream of the firestorms howling gale or the roar of combusting grass, twigs
and dying trees.

He started to run again. She was frozen in terror at the sight of impending death. He
grabbed her, and she screamed her paralysis broken.

“Jax!”

But he didn’t try to answer the fear in her eyes. He just grabbed her hand and pulled.
“Come on!”

If she heard him, he couldn’t tell, but she followed and he dragged her along as he swung
towards his car and the sea, back toward the hollow structures that it seemed, now, would
never become homes.

As they went, he could hear and feel the blast and roar of the flames following behind
them. The heat licked at their heals, scorched their skin and scalded their lips, but the
wind off the Pacific as they drew nearer seemed to be growing. He ran into it, taking her
with him, but the salty breeze abruptly surged up to hit them with a blast of air that
seemed an attempt to pull them back. But Jax wasn’t going to go. He held onto Brenda
as they stumbled to a halt by his car.

She immediately grabbed the door handle, ready to jump in, but he stopped her.

“No, we’ll never be able to drive back!” he called over the howling wind scorching the
coast. “We’ll have to head for the beach!”

She hesitated, unwilling to believe him when all she wanted to do was escape. He grasped
her hand once more, and pulled her into a run again. They didn’t stop until the water was
lapping at their feet.

Gasping for breath and standing together, with the surf circling their ankles, they watched
the wall of flame come toward them.

It was a terrifying sight, awing, but even as they retreated farther, stepping into knee-deep
water, the raging inferno seemed to shudder, stop and unexpectedly--miraculously--burn
out as suddenly as it had begun.

In disbelief Jax watched the flames lick the ground in search of fresh fuel as the ocean
breeze pushed the fire back on itself, but the dry bush was used up. The grass that had
once grown underneath the questing tendrils of red and orange was already burned. No
fodder existed for fresh fire and further destruction.

“It’s stopping.”

Brenda’s whisper was incredulous, but Jax realized it was true. The flames were either
disappearing in a cloud of smoke or reappearing on new ground where ash landed and
found new roots. But, regardless, the storm was moving away from them. It was moving
back from the shore. He put an arm around her and held her close as the inferno began to
race inland from the sea, away from them and the water, and leaving the construction site
untouched.

With a sob, she turned into him, burying his face against his chest. He trembled, too, as he
caught her to him. It was incredible, unbelievable that they’d been saved, that the
emerging buildings hadn’t been demolished, but wildfires had no direction, no intelligence.
They only went where they could burn and where the wind blew them.

No one could explain why one house was left standing on a street where every other home
was burned to the ground, or why one hillside lay consumed while those around it
remained untouched. Logic and sound reasoning didn’t apply when destruction was
driven.

Taking her with him, Jax turned to splash back to dry land, and he caught her as shock
dissolved into a flood of tears. Collapsing to their knees together on the beach, he put
both arms around her in stunned relief. Death had come very near. Its smoky aftermath
still lingered in the air.

Lifting her chin in his hand, he stared down in to her soot-lined face and terrified eyes and
was overwhelmed by a wave of emotion. She’d been spared. He’d gotten to her in time.
He kissed her once. Hard. And then turned with her to watch the sky that stayed lit even
when the sun disappeared behind the horizon.

***

“I was so dumb,” Brenda muttered, stumbling up the steps to her beach house with Jax a
countless number of minutes, perhaps hours, later. The air on the shore had finally cleared
of smoke, but the stench of it was in her clothes and the danger it represented on her mind.

“You weren’t stupid. You were concerned about the men and went to warn them,” Jax
objected as he followed her. He was too relieved to be alive to have her with him to place
blame.

“I could have gotten us both killed!”

“You couldn’t have know the fire would turn like that.”

“I should have,” she said, and stopped abruptly when she saw the shattered champagne
bottle and the wilted roses lying on the deck where he’d obviously dropped them. “Oh,
Jax.”

Taking his arm from around her shoulders, he let her go to watch her kneel by the gifts
he’d brought in expectation of enjoying the perfect evening, then turned to open the patio
doors to greet Peter and Wendy. Scooping the kittens up, he stepped inside feeling weary,
dirty and very hungry. “Forget the flowers. Bring the food.”

With a regretful sigh, she did. She brought the discarded bags that still held the lingering
smells of fish and fries along with the rapidly deteriorating roses. “It’s cold.”

“So? I’m hungry.” He brought the kittens up to eye level. “Quite a night, guys,” he told
them as the two mewed plaintively and wiggled to escape. Thank God the worst was
over, for them for him and Brenda. Using the car phone on the way back to the house,
he’d called in the fire at the site and advised the authorities of Brenda’s abandoned car
beside the road. In turn, he’d been assured the fire was headed out of Malibu. It was safe
to be where they were.

“They’ll never know,” Brenda said, smiling as she watched him set Peter and Wendy
down.

“I’m glad,” Jax said, and grimaced. “Rescuing them would have been a bit more tricky
than you. I don’t think they would have willingly gone into the ocean.”

Too tried to laugh, she sent him a wry smile and headed for the kitchen, and he followed.
But rather than stopping with her by the sink, he moved on to the refrigerator.

“Got anything to drink?” he asked, opening the door.

“No champagne.”

“Anything will do, I’m not fussy.” And he wasn’t. He grabbed a bottle of water, twisted
the cap off, put it to his lips and drank. It tasted wonderful. Cold, wet, and soothing. He
came up for air with a sigh and found Brenda watching him with a lopsided grin.

He held the bottle out to her. Her face was streaked with sand, dirt, and tears. Her
clothes were soiled and wrinkled and ruined. “You look like hell.”

“Thank you,” she said, accepting the bottle and his kiss.

“And you taste like ash.”

She arched an eyebrow at him. “You know just how to make a woman feel good.”

He grinned but didn’t say anything. He just watched as she drank much the same as he
had, with a thirst that had no end. He felt as if he’d been baked dry. He opened the
refrigerator again. “I don’t suppose I look too great myself.”

She finished the last swallow on a heartfelt sigh and turned to watch him open a new
bottle. His shirt was smudged with smoke, ash and sand. His pants were much the same.
“You look almost as good as the first time I saw you.”

He nearly choked on the water.

“I’m going upstairs to take a shower.”

The declaration came before he could answer her smirking crack and wiped any words of
retort right out of his mind. Swallowing a mouthful of water, he recovered in time to see
her saunter to the steps, hips swaying enticingly. “Can I watch?”

She paused and leaned on the railing. “You can join me.”

He didn’t need a second invitation, but he did need another drink. Tipping his head back,
he nearly drained the second bottle before following her to the staircase, but he didn’t get
far. He stopped a few steps up. He heard the water turn on.

A grin slowly stretched its way across his mouth, and he started walking again. When he
reached the top of the steps he sat the water bottle aside and took off his shirt. By the
time he reached the bathroom, steam was beginning to fill the air, and he was naked.

The frosted doors of the shower showed a silhouette. The detail was smothered by the
panes, but the body inside was sleek and slender and covered by skin that appeared
smooth to the touch. He reached for the door and stepped in beside her.

The wave of cool air that came inside with him told her that she was no longer alone.
With her head under the spewing shower head, she didn’t have to wait long for his touch.
His fingers slid across her abdomen in a warm caress. “You’re slow,” she accused,
turning to face him as he drew her close and smiling as water ran over her face and hair.

“I thought you liked slow.”

She lifted her hands to circle his neck. “Show me.”

He growled a response that was lost against her lips and under the power of the shower he
turned them both into, but the water didn’t distract or detract from the way she felt in his
arms. It enticed, as did the way her skin slipped hotly across his.

Yet passion wasn’t quick to explode. The fire and the fear had taken their toll. Interest
was high but energy was low, and satisfaction was waiting. He was willing to take his
time, and so was she.

Moving with him in and against the water, she let the spray wash over her as she got used
to the strength of his hands and accustomed to the feel of his skin. His flesh was slick and
surprisingly soft against hers, but the muscle beneath was hard and rippled as she followed
streams of water down his golden chest.

Shy but sure, with slow strokes, teasing touches and gentle caresses, she explored with
him as the moisture and steam rejuvenated bodies scorched by horrific heat and nearly
wilted by a raging storm. She tipped her head back as he nuzzled her neck and reached
for the shampoo.

The lotion was thick and sudsy. Using his fingers to comb though the thick, wet strands
of black on her head, he tasted both her and the shampoo with a kiss.

Its scent, if not its flavor, was one he recognized. The fragrance always blended with the
perfume she wore. He picked up the soap to see if its texture and smell were also part of
the mystique that was hers, but she didn’t let him keep the bar to himself.

Lathering up, too, she tried her own version of massage, but he proved to be the expert.
Soon it was difficult to concentrate on what she wanted to do to him because of the
explosions of sensation he was arousing in her.

Sliding off and against him, she quickly forgot the fire on the hill as he ignited a blaze of
his own within her, but the water they were standing in swiftly reminded them that they
weren’t on solid ground.

Jax slipped, she squealed and the bar of soap went flying from his hands.

Laughing and clinging to him, she let him dip her under the shower but shuddered when he
nuzzled her neck with his lips.

“I think we need to move someplace drier,” he murmured in her ear, but even after
shutting off the taps and stepping out of the bath, it was awhile before he got her to the
door.

Towels had to be played with first. Hair had to be wrung out and combed, but he didn’t
mind the delay when the excuse gave him a chance to examine her from the top of her
head to the soles of her feet.

“Which way?" he asked, backing her out into the hall. She was wearing a towel toga-style
and he had one wrapped around his waist. Both were slipping.

Holding him off as her fingers linked with his, she nodded to a black-and-white streak that
shot across the corridor. “Just follow Wendy. She sleeps with me every night.”

“Until now,” Jax promised, and stooped to sweep her up into his arms and throw her over
his shoulder.

She squealed at his unexpected charge and held on tight as he took off running with a
battle cry for the bedroom door.

It was a strategic move that startled both felines from their resting places in the middle of
the bed. The two kittens headed for cover at his wail and were racing down the stairs to
safer territory by the time he stopped briefly at the foot of the bed to unleash his cargo.

Brenda wasn’t sure who hit the sheets first. Her or him. But it ceased to matter when she
found herself quickly in his arms again. “You’re crazy!”

“There’s that adjective again.” He caught her lips with his. “Are we going to try
perverted, too?”

She caught his head between her hands. His hair was still wet and he smelled of shampoo
and soap, but she hardly noticed for the gleam in his blue/green eyes. “Maybe.”

“Maybe? Sounds promising.” He pulled her gently to him again, but this time his kiss was
slow and draining and ended on a mutual sigh. “I see you have the sheets turned down.
Expecting someone?”

She smiled and traced his mouth with her finger. “Only you.”

“Good,” he declared and caught her hand in his, but looking into her eyes, he suddenly
remembered them dark with fear and her face smudged with ash. He almost hadn’t seen
her bed tonight. He almost lost the chance to ever hold her again. “Very good,” he told
her and rolled with her across the bed as a wave of emotion too intense for him to stop
and analyze washed over him. And she felt it, too. The power of feelings too long denied,
and she held on to him as the towels were stripped away.

Slowly the heat built again and the fire that had been ignited in the shower flared to life
once more. It flickered over them both with taunting tongues of flame, urging them on as
hearts pounded, breath became ragged and spirits soared.

Gaining in strength, the inferno threatened to consume them both, but while equal in
power to the wildfire that had rioted across the countryside, no destruction came in this
blaze’s wake. Rather the flame of passion burned harmlessly but totally until
consummation washed the heat away.

Collapsing together on a cry, the smoky wonder of aftermath lay with and surrounded
them as, tangled together they remained unmoving until pulses slowed and they found
sleep in each other’s arms.

To be continued...