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“How bad?” I hold her gaze, dreading having to tell her this news.
“It looks like it’s the condo beside hers mostly, but I’m not entirely sure. They’re trying to put it out first.”
“Shit. All right, we’re on our way,” I tell him, barely hearing his “Hurry” as I click the screen to disconnect.
“What’s wrong?” she asks without getting into the truck.
“The condo beside yours is on fire. We need to go. Now.”
“Oh my God.” Her complexion goes pale as she hops inside my truck and reaches for her seat belt. I have her door closed and am jogging around to the driver’s side, jumping in the truck, and turning over the engine fast. Then, I’m pulling out of the lot, pressing the accelerator a little harder than I should.
I glance over, noting her worried expression, and reach for her hand. “It’s going to be okay, Hal. It’s going to be okay.”
Sadly, by the look in her eyes when she glances my way, I can tell she doesn’t believe me.
I’ll just keep the faith for the both of us.
Chapter Nineteen
Hallie
When Logan rounds the corner for my street, we’re met with lights. I can see smoke, but no flames, which I pray is a good sign. Realizing we can’t go any farther, Logan pulls over and parks the truck. We both jump out and meet at the front of the truck, his hand extended toward me. The moment my hand is secured in his, we take off jogging toward my condo.
We reach the barricades and an officer standing post. He’s an older man I’ve known my whole life, and he holds my gaze as I approach.
“What can you tell us?” Logan asks Dwayne before we’re stopped.
“I can’t tell you anything,” he replies sadly, “And I can’t let you pass.”
“But that’s my place,” I tell him even though he already knows that. Everyone knows everybody in this town, including where they live.
“I know, Hallie. I can radio for the fire chief, but he’s busy right now extinguishing the blaze. Why don’t you go across the street. I think Gabe and some of the others are gathered on the sidewalk. I’ll send someone over as soon as they have more information for you.”
All I can do is give a short, wooden nod.
“Thanks, Officer Simmons,” Logan replies on my behalf and escorts me over to the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street.
My eyes are glued to the structure I call home. There’s a massive hole in the roof of the condo alongside mine with smoke billowing out, and from what I can see under the bright lights from the fire department, my roof seems fine. But I’m not naïve either. There’s only one wall separating the condo beside me from mine. While I don’t see damage to my roof, that doesn’t mean my condo isn’t affected.
“There’s your brother,” Logan says, guiding me past my neighbors and toward Gabe.
Ignoring those around me calling my name, I keep my focus ahead on my brother’s worried eyes and run straight into his extended arms. The moment I catch a whiff of his familiar scent—a combination of his bodywash and some sort of antiseptic smell that comes from the clinic—I burst into tears. “Shh shh shh, don’t cry, Hal. It’s going to be okay.”
I sniffle and turn my face into his arm.
“Did you just wipe your nose on me?” he asks with a chuckle.
“Yeah, get used to it. Your kid will do the same thing,” I tease my brother as I step back. He makes a disgusted face as he glances down at the wet streak across his arm, but I’ve already moved on. I throw myself at my best friend, who is crying. “What’s the matter?” I ask, wiping my own tears.
“Hormones,” she replies, waving me off. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
I turn and face my condo and view the activity. Volunteer firemen move around, spraying water onto the place beside mine. All I can do is stand here, in complete shock, and watch. I feel a warm, strong hand snake around my hip, and when Logan draws me closer to his side, I go willingly. The comfort he’s offering outweighs any logic in my head that says we shouldn’t be touching. All this touching is liable to put other ideas into my head. Ideas that involve a lot fewer clothes, and frankly, that’s the least of my concerns right now.
“I called Mom and Dad so they wouldn’t worry when they heard about the fire. They offered to come, but I told them there was no reason for it. All they’d be doing is standing here and watching with the rest of us, but Mom did ask you to call her soon and let her know you’re okay.”
I nod, my eyes still glued to the scene in front of me.
A few people come over, but I’m not in a chatty mood. Logan and Gabe take care of that part, accepting condolences on my behalf and thanking them for their kind words and support. My mind races. Even if my condo doesn’t sustain fire damage, the water and smoke alone will be enough to destroy it. What will happen to my belongings? Is anything salvageable inside? My Jeep is still in the driveway, covered with a mixture of ash, soot, and water. It’ll probably smell like smoke.
