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He chuckles but it’s a grim, determined sound. And his eyes are darting around the room. We’re cut off so we can’t get out the front.
“Is there a back way out?” he asks.
“Yeah, but there’s no way…”
“Hey…”. His big hand caresses my cheek. “I’m gonna get us both out of here. Do you trust me?”
I nod my head quickly. “I do. I trust you with my life.”
“Good. Because I fucking love you and there’s no way I’m getting cheated out of growing old and having babies with you.”
My mouth drops open and he drops a hard, demanding kiss on my lips.
“Do you have a blanket around here?”
I nod to the side and he grins when he sees the old sheet covering the elizabethan chair that I’ve sold to someone online. “Got it!” he grunts, gathering it. He finds the bathroom and rushes into it, returning with the sheet soaked, then draping it across me.
“What about you?” I gasp, struggling to catch my breath, my chest hurting so bad that it feels like a three hundred pound weight is lying on it. My throat burns and my voice is raspy.
“I’m alright, baby girl. I’m more worried about you. And the fire. I want you to stay under that sheet and just close your eyes. We’re gonna make a run for it out the exit.”
I nod my head under the sheet, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. He picks me up and as soon as his muscular arms close around me, I feel safe.
Then I feel him start to run and I feel a burning on the front of my body. He pulls me in closer, cursing under his breath.
“Tate?” I yell, scared and blinded by the sheet and the smoke.
“Keep that over your eyes. I love you, baby. Don’t forget that.”
“I love you too,” I rasp, coughing and choking. The smoke is so thick it hurts to breathe.
Then it feels like we’re falling and I realize that Tate is on his knees, coughing and groaning.
“Tate! Hey! We’ve got her. You can let go.” I hear my brother and the sheriff begging him to let go of me so that both of us can go get checked out.
His arms shake as he refuses, tightening them even more until I’m squeaking.
Jeremiah growls, “man, you’ve got to let her go. Don’t worry. We’ll get her back to you. You both need checked out.”
Somebody pulls the sheet off my face and Jeremiah grimaces. “Are you alright, sis? Lord, I need a drink. This has been a bitch of a day.”
The EMT grins. “It’s only nine thirty.”
“Don’t remind me,” he grunts.
They put me on a stretcher and I search for Tate. I can see them checking out his hands and his head. I can see singed hairs on the back of his neck and his hands are red and puckered.
“Is Tate okay?” I ask, worried that he’s hurt worse than it seems.
“I’m okay,” he growls, struggling with the other EMT trying to put an oxygen mask on him. “Stop it, man. I don’t need it.”
I glare at him. “Yes, you do. I refuse to be with a man stubborn enough to refuse air just to be diffucult.”
He lowers his hands and stares at me. “I love you, princess. So much that it hurts. I almost lost my mind when I saw that fire.”
He closes his eyes like he can’t relive that moment.
“I’m okay. You saved me.” The EMT’s cut my bindings off and I hiss when I feel tingles returning to my fingers. “You’re my hero, Tate. I love you so much that it feels like it’s an ingrained part of me. Like it’s always been there and I just didn’t know it. But I do now.”
