Page 3 of Burning For You

No—smoke.

“Mom!” she screamed, bolting upright. “Dad!”

She opened her door.

Flames filled the hallway, crawling along the ceiling and blocking the stairs. Blocking their bedroom. And closing in faster than the rapid breaths escaping her lungs.

“Sean!” She pounded on the wall between their rooms, but his door was swallowed by fire, the heat too intense to get closer.

Panic clawed up her throat.

There was nowhere to go.

She slammed her door shut and shoved clothes under the crack, but smoke poured in anyway. Heat pressed against her skin. Sweat soaked her clothes. Tears streamed down her face.

She grabbed her phone, ran to the window, unlocked it with shaking hands, and shoved it open.

The ground below looked impossibly far.

Jump or burn.

She didn’t hesitate again.

She climbed out, clung to the sill until her fingers screamed, then let go.

The last thing she saw was her house, every room glowing orange rushing past her as she fell.

1

PUSHED HIM AWAY

Thirteen Years Later

The alarms blared, Ash Ridgeway and the rest of his crew ran to their gear, suited up and were in the firetrucks racing out of the station.

The sirens screamed as they drove through town, cars moving aside, him hanging on.

A mile away, on a dead-end street, a car was fully engulfed in flames. The blue and red flashing lights of the police car kept bystanders back.

The firetruck halted, the hoses were hooked up to the hydrant not too far away, then he was running toward the fire. Dropping to his knee, the hose tucked under his arm, both hands with a death grip, he pulled the lever back and aimed right into the flames in the front of the car, under the hood, and spreading to the front seat.

Please don’t let anyone be inside.

Another hose was hitting it from behind, trying to stop the spread.

Fifteen minutes later, his body was tense, his muscles were screaming, but the fire was under control.

He stood up, the cramping in his thigh nothing he hadn’t felt before. Shutting off the stream of water, he brought the hose back, unhooked it from the hydrant and rolled it up.

He lifted the shield on his helmet, unhooked his oxygen mask and let it fall away so he could speak.

The captain on shift was checking the car out, the fire inspector next to him. Ash made his way to his best friend’s older brother by the police car, who was keeping the crowd back.

“Hey, Tate.”

“Ash. You got to be the lucky one for this.”

“Mild in the scheme of things.”