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Clenching my fingers into fists, I held back my rage, and nodded, my voice shaking, "Yes."
“Good." He seemed pleased. Then, after a final glance at me, he nodded towards the group of people.
They immediately jumped into action, unrolling the hose and hooking it to the fire hydrant.
As a spray of water finally hit the house, two paramedics surrounded me. One of them, a girl, approached me with a concerned look. "Miss. Are you okay?"
I was still staring at the man in the gray suit, all my emotions tumbling through me. My face snapped to her.
"Okay?" I asked, incredulous. "Am I okay?"
At the vitriol in my voice, she stepped back, and glanced towards the house, "Is there anyone inside?”
"You should know that already. Shouldn’t you?” I was screaming, feeling completely out of control.
I had no power in this world. I was helpless to do anything.
She nodded, stepping back. “I understand.”
I could only stare at my house, rage and sadness overflowing. All of the memories of my mom. Dad. Everything! Up in flames.
Rook was right.
He was right and I was an idiot.
A naive, stupid fucking bunny, just like he said.
As soon as he'd warned me, I should've run. As fast and as far as possible, taking Callie with me.
He'd been right, this whole time.
But now..now it was too late. The weight of Saul's phone was heavy in my pocket.
I was completely indebted to them now.
I stood there, tears streaming down my face. Flames eating through everything. Gray and black smoke billowing upward as the water began to suffocate the flames.
The gray man moved, his arm extending outward as he snapped a picture of the house. Then he turned towards me, staring straight into my eyes as he snapped one of me, capturing one of the most devastating moments of my life.
A satisfied smile crawled up his face.
My rage boiled over. I couldn't stop myself.
He turned to leave and I raced forward. Leaping, I bowled into him like a linebacker. He fell to the ground with a grunt of surprise.
I landed on top of him, and got in several hits before someone was dragging me off.
"Let me go!" I screamed. “Let me go!"
But hands only clasped tighter around my waist. Holding me back. I fought and screamed and struggled.
The man stood, his fancy gray suit now wrinkled. His white shirt, stained with dirt. His tie and hair askew.
At the dark look he threw me, I pulled free and ran at him again.
This time, I was tackled to the ground. Strong arms held me down. I fought against them uselessly.
It wasn't fair!
