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CALEB
Juliet’s screams wake me.I think I’m still dreaming, a haze of flesh and smoke, but then she shakes me, and it hits me. It’s not a nightmare. It’s real. And it means only one thing.
We’re not as safe as I thought we were.
Scrambling out of bed, I throw on my clothes and grab my phone. Through the smoke, I expect Juliet’s doing the same.
But she’s gone.
“Juliet?”
I stalk to the edge of the bed, where I last saw her. No sign of her.
“Juliet!”
Nothing.
Did she run for the exit without me? I start for the door. Now, the smoke is pouring in. The fire is somewhere along the front wall of the cabin—but spreading fast. We won’t have much time before escape is impossible.
When I reach the doorway, I hear a voice behind me. “Here… I just…”
I follow her voice and find her, of all places, in one of the bedrooms, kneeling in the corner, like she’s searching for something on the floor.
“What the hell are you thinking?” I yell, coughing through the smoke. “We’ve got to get out.”
“But—”
I grab hold of her, yanking her away. She struggles, but there’s no fucking way I’m letting her go in all of this.
I toss her over my shoulder, grab my shit, and get us the hell out of there.
Out in the hallway, the fire’s consuming the curtains and most of the furniture in the living room. I know this wasn’t us, though. We were too busy to light a fire last night.
So how the fuck did one start?
“Put me down!”
Juliet struggles against me as I carry her out the door and to the front lawn, choking on the thick smoke.
Outside, the fresh air hits my lungs, and I gulp for more. But when I set her down, she tries to shove me aside and go back in.
“Are you crazy?” I roar. “The place is on fire!”
Juliet pauses, taking in the sight.
The place is burning out of control now, flames licking up the side of the cabin walls. All that wood, it’s blazing like a tinderbox, smoke rising up into the night.
And it hits me just how close we came to death tonight.
How easily Juliet could have been harmed.
She sags, the fight going out of her, and I can see from her expression that she’s thinking the same thing.
“Come on,” I say, hustling her to the car. “Whoever set that fire might still be around here somewhere. We need to get to safety.”
She doesn’t say a word as I bundle her into the car, and hit the road, back to the city. The miles fly by, but I keep an eye on the rear-view mirror, tensing every time I see headlights.
Nero isn’t going to stop until someone’s dead.
