Page 105 of Knot What I Expected

That's what I wanted.

At least, that's what I keep telling myself as I lock the door and head toward work, trying very hard not to wonder whether those golden eyes will be waiting for me when I walk into Dick’s.

Chapter 11

Havoc

Fire is alive.

Anyone who tells you different has never stood close enough to feel one breathe.

This bastard has been breathing down our necks for four fucking days.

It started on the far side of the ridge, high in the mountains near Glacier National Park, Montana—the same wild, heavily forested territory A-Feral is contracted to protect. Ember Hollow sits closest to our territory, down the winding mountain roads from our cabins, and keeping that little town safe is part of why we’re here in the first place.

And right now?

The fire wants Ember Hollow.

At least, that’s what it fucking feels like.

Wind screams through the timber, carrying sparks and burning needles ahead of the main fire line. Lodgepole pine and fir torch one after another, flames racing up trunks and exploding into the crowns with a roar loud enough to drown out everything else.

Smoke hangs so thick in the air the afternoon sun is nothing but a dirty orange smear overhead.

My eyes burn.

My lungs burn.

Every exposed inch of skin feels cooked.

Monster?

The crazy fuck is loving every second.

Fire.

“No shit.”

I drag the hose another ten feet uphill while Wreck works farther down the line with one of the local crews.

We’ve got engines positioned where the access roads allow, a water tender feeding the operation from below, and portable pumps helping us get water into terrain most equipment can’t reach.

But water alone isn’t stopping this thing.

Not out here.

Not with the wind.

The real battle is starving the motherfucker.

So we cut.

Dig.

Scrape.

Drop anything that can carry flame across our line.