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I scramble back until my head hits the display counter and I see another figure, a more familiar one beating the man.
I can’t think, my mind not focusing.
Forcing myself to my feet, I grab the fire extinguisher, gasping under the weight of it. The glass window that looks into the kitchen is now black with smoke, and I can now see the smoke seeping out from under the closed door.
Putting the mitten that hangs nearby to my nose and mouth, I use my shoulder to throw open the door, and am suddenly surrounded by black smoke.
However, I know my kitchen.
A flick of my hand turns on the exhaust fan.
The fire is raging on the stove and it’s spread to my wooden baking equipment and boards. I spray it with the fire extinguisher.
My heart in my mouth, I spray and spray, not letting go, not giving my arms any reprieve until the fire is put out. Whoever this bastard is, he hasn’t managed to complete the job. My foot knocks against a tin can on the floor, and I force myself not to think about what would have happened had he managed to pour the accelerant over the fire.
The smoke is seeping out through the fan. I hear a loud crash behind me, and I see my attacker push the man who saved me over the counter, before he rushes outside.
I run towards the front of the shop and turn on the lights.
I could recognize Philip from a mile away, and my voice is hoarse as I ask, “Are you okay?”
He is standing up, using the counter as support, and he growls, “I’m fine. What abou—” My knees collapse from under me and I sink onto the floor, finding it hard to breathe. “Charlotte!”
He rushes to my side and I bat his hands away, gasping, “Give me a minute!”
My tank top is torn but I don’t care about my half-naked, exposed body at that moment. Gritting my teeth, I press my fingers gingerly against my ribs, and after a rough examination, I determine that nothing is broken.
My face white with pain, I breathe out, “Help me up.” He does so, his jaw tight.
“I’m taking you to a hospital.”
I shake my head.
“I’m fine. I can fix this. Just let me see—”
My eyes move over my bakery and tears well up in my eyes as I see the damage to my beautiful shop. The crashing I heard was my very expensive dough maker, and even from here, now that the smoke is cleared, I can see the door of the oven hanging on a hinge, and I draw in another shuddering breath.
All my hard work…
My chest tightens with repressed tears as I stagger towards my ruine
d kitchen. I lift my fist to my mouth, trying to contain my anguished cries.
The damage is thousands and thousands of dollars’ worth, and, realizing that I am on the brink of losing my livelihood, I feel my world shatter for the second time in two weeks.
Philip steps into my line of sight, cold fury distorting his perfect features as he raises his hands to touch the bruises on my face.
“Shit. We need to get you to a hospital. That bastard did a fucking number on you.”
I shake my head, pushing back tears, trying to gather myself, trying to think.
“There’s a – a kit upstairs. I can fix this. It’s not that bad. It’s not that bad.”
But this time, it is that bad.
7
Philip
