“Is anyone else inside the house?” he asks.
I shake my head.
“Any pets?”
I shake my head again. No pets. Not yet, at least.
“The fire department is on their way.” He squeezes my arm in a way that feels weirdly comforting. “I’m glad you’re safe.”
All I can do is stare. The fire burns so fast, so hot. I’ve never seen anything like it. This is a billion times stronger than the biggest bonfire I saw that time on the beach. That was a fun fire. We roasted marshmallows and sang loudly and poorly to songs on the radio. This is not a fun fire. This is a nightmare.
Everyone is outside now. Dozens of neighbors, some I know, and most I don’t. A weird part of me is squirming in shame and embarrassment. I’m not even sure why. It’s super awkward knowing that all these people are watching me as I watch my home burn to the ground. I wish everyone would just go back inside and leave us alone. I really wish they’d stop taking pictures. This is my house. My home. Not some circus sideshow.
The roaring sirens of three firetrucks can be heard from miles away. It grows louder and louder until the trucks screech to a stop in front of our house. Firemen are already suited up as they leap out of the firetrucks and get to work, hooking up hoses to the fire hydrants.
It’s all so loud. The sirens, the gasped shrieks of my neighbors. The house groans and creaks, putting up a fight but losing against the powerful flames. The fire crackles so much louder than I thought a fire was capable of. Even the water that’s here to save us is loud. The fire hydrant water whooshes out, finally, hitting the flames but doing nothing. Maybe it takes a lot longer to put out a fire than I thought. I don’t know what I thought. I’ve never seen anything like this before.
I blink. Tears roll down my face. I know I should be grateful for our lives, that we’re all safe and unharmed, but all I can think of right now is how all our stuff is gone. Clothes, food, memories. The couch we cuddle on, the brand new bath towels I haven’t even taken out of the shopping bag yet. It’s all burning up to ashes right now.
“Mommy?” Harper says my name several times before my brain snaps to attention and alerts me.
“Yeah, baby?” I bend down and scoop her into my arms.
“I want Daddy.”
“Yeah, me too.”
Her face presses against me and her arms wrap around my neck. I wish Jett was here. Right now, next to me. I wish it was him instead of my neighbors.
How am I supposed to tell him that our life just went up in flames?
He’s in the beautiful state of California, partying with his friends, probably wanting to go back to full time racing. He’s having an amazing time. Am I supposed to just call him and break this devastating news over the phone? Do I wait until he flies back in two days? No, surely someone would have told him by then. Hell, there’s probably pictures of my house up on Facebook right now thanks to all my nosy camera-obsessed neighbors. No, he needs to hear this from me.
I reach for my phone. He answers on the first ring.
“Hey, beautiful. What’s up?”
“Jett…you might want to sit down for this.”
Chapter 4
Jett
At least they’re okay.
I would be completely out of my mind with worry if something had happened to one of my girls and I wasn’t there. But I have been assured a million times from Keanna and also my parents that they are safe. The house is a total loss, but they’re okay. As it is, the first flight back to Houston isn’t nearly fast enough.
I pace the terminal, anxiously waiting for boarding to begin. Walking from one end of the terminal to the other won’t make time go any faster, but at least it gives my nervous energy something to do. It’s three in the morning. Flight lands at six. Dad will pick me up at the airport and he better drive as fast as I know he’s capable of driving because I need to see my family ASAP.
“Hey,” a voice says.
I don’t know how to explain it, the gut instinct feeling I get, but I know that voice is talking to me. It’s a female voice, soft and nervous, and like, thirty percent flirty. It’s the same voice so many other women often use around me and other guys like me. Professional athletes.
I ignore it. Hundreds of people are walking around this airport, catching flights, and sleeping in the waiting areas; maybe that Hey was meant for one of them.
”Hey, hello?” the voice tries again.
The body that’s attached to the voice steps in front of me. I’m purposely staring at the tile floor, hoping that whoever it is will take a hint and leave me alone. I’m not an asshole all the time, but this isn’t a normal day. My house burned down. I’m not in the mood.
