Page 127 of Falling for the Playboy Pilot

Dalton.

“Really, Princess? You just roll over and give up? I knew it. Princess needs pampering. I knew you couldn’t cut it.”

Anger bubbled low in my belly.

“Fuck that. I’m not a princess. I’m a fighter. I’m a survivor.”

With strength I didn’t actually feel, I hooked the harness over my shoulders and pushed open the door.

“We’re getting out of here, Pickle. Do you hear me? We’re getting out. It’d be great if you could get your ass up and help, but if I have to drag you, I will.”

I wasn’t surprised that he didn’t reply. I pulled his body out of the cooler. It felt like he had gained a hundred pounds during our short time in the fridge.

I looked toward the door. Flames were licking across the window outside, eating the signage and burning a car parked out front. There was no way out. No car, no truck, no goddamn chopper coming to pluck us out of this inferno.

My gaze darted to the back, where the kitchen door led to the alley. Flames danced there too. Trapped. We were trapped.

Still, I wasn’t going to die without trying everything.

I pulled out the radio. My butter fingers dropped it. “Son of a bitch.”

I dropped back to the floor, searching for clean air.

A strange sound cut through the quiet. At first, I was certain my oxygen-deprived mind was hearing things.

And then I heard it again.

The speaker crackled.

“—na? Come in, please! Pickle. Janna?!”

“Laser,” I rasped.

I grabbed the radio. Tears burned my eyes. I didn’t know if it was the smoke burning them or tears of joy.

“Laser, are you there?”

“Oh, thank hell.” Laser nearly sobbed over the radio. “Are you okay? Where’s Pickle? Talk to me.”

I coughed hard, eyes watering. “He’s out cold. Breathing, but not waking up. I think a concussion. The smoke is thick. I think this might be it.”

“No, no, no, don’t you dare give up on me. Listen to me. You need to move away from the fire front. Head for Main Street. We’re trying to get someone in. Just hold on. We haven’t forgotten about you.”

I rested my forehead against the floor, tears mixing with soot on my cheeks. I felt so weak. I couldn’t lift my head. I needed to tell her where we were.

“Diner. Martha’s Diner.”

“You’re at the diner?”

I tried to suck in a breath but it felt impossible.

“Janna. Hey, girl. Stay with me.”

I opened my eyes. “Laser it’s not good. He’s too heavy.”

I knew I was fading. My sentences were not making sense. I didn’t have the energy to try and make whole sentences.

“Help is coming.” Laser’s voice was such a comfort. I wanted her to keep talking. It felt so good to hear another voice. “We’ve cleared a path. We’ve got the fire held back on one side. The road is closed but we’re working on it.”