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In the corner, where I know for damn sure Tiny installed one of his top-of-the-line security cameras, another black wire hangs loosely. No camera to be seen. That has me curious, so I walk around the front of the building to look for the other camera that faces the street and the sidewalk lining the front of the shops. That camera is right where it’s supposed to be with no loose wires.
Hmm.I’m going to have to ask Tiny about that.
I round the building again, using the spare key to let myself into the back door of the bakery. Sitting right on the counter is a huge as fuck covered tray of what looks to be one hundred mini cupcakes. A small yellow note is taped to the top.
Trigger, please don’t forget the cake pops in the fridge! I worked my ass off on them!
Sasha xo
I take the cupcakes out to the truck first since the pan is so fucking big and God knows how big this other shit is going to be. I also throw the rogue wire on the floorboard to show Tiny when I get there.
Back inside, I pull the industrial fridge door open and almost moan at what greets me on the other side on the shelf above another tray of purple shit that is clearly for Pebbles.
Lilah knows my weakness for her dutch apple pie. Sitting on the shelf all by itself is a single piece of her orgasmic pie.Fuck it. I pull the pie out of the fridge and turn to the small countertop oven I’ve seen Lilah use before to heat up small stuff.
I unwrap the pie, shoving it on the rack. I frown at all the different options on the dials. I turn the dial on and decide to just watch it closely to make sure it doesn’t burn.
A few seconds later, smoke billows from the sides of the small oven. Another second later and the thing fucking combusts in my face. I rear back from the heat and panic when the entire thing turns to flames in front of me. I look from left to right trying to find a fucking fire extinguisher and come up empty.
I can’t believe how fast everything happens. The large industrial stove next to the small oven ticks. I quickly duck down behind the large prep counter right on time before that explodes, causing a tall wire rolling rack to fall over, metal clanging on the hard floor. “What the fuck!” I yell.
Oh shit.The liquor store is next door. If I don’t get this shit figured out fast, the whole god damn building is going to go down in flames.
From my crouched spot on the ground I try to figure out what the fuck to do. I look to my left, spotting the fire extinguisher. Right above that is a small fire alarm pull down.Fucking Tiny and his safety features.I pull my phone out of my pocket, dialing the only place I know someone will be on a Saturday– the tattoo shop.
“Desert Ink! This is Shaye. What can I do for you?”
I shove my phone between my shoulder and cheek. I use one hand to rip the extinguisher off the wall and the other to pull the small lever. A second later, the spouts from the ceiling are raining down on me.
“Shaye! It’s Trig. I need someone to come down to the bakery, now! Shit is on fire!” I yell over the loud crackles of the fire and the pouring water above me.
I don’t wait for her to answer me and let my phone fall from my shoulder onto the floor.
The left side of my face stings as I take the fire extinguisher and aim it at the blazing appliances.
As I’m spraying the oven, something to the side of me pops loudly and I scream in agony as my entire left arm catches on fire. I’m vaguely aware of someone running into the kitchen behind me as I use the fire extinguisher on myself. My arm burns even more, and I’m not entirely sure if that was the smartest thing to do.
“Trig, man! Get the fuck out of here! Shaye called 911!” Eddy yells from behind me.
“Can’t let this shit reach the liquor store!” I roar back.
Eddy pulls on the back of my shirt. “Get the fuck out of here, Trigger!”
“Fuck!” I yell, knowing he’s right. I look around the kitchen. Through the thick smoke, I can vaguely see that every one of the microwaves, stoves, and ovens are engulfed in flames.
As soon as Eddy pulls me through to the front of the store, three firemen in full gear rush into the building, yelling at us to get out.How fucking long was I back there?
When I’m safely outside, I take a deep breath of fresh air. My lungs burn causing me to cough. I can’t stop. A middle aged man with the letters EMT on a ball cap strides quickly to me, guiding me to the back of an ambulance, and I drop down onto a lowered gurney.
“Sir, you’re injured. Let me take a look,” he says, sternly.
I continue to cough as he examines my face and body. A younger female EMT straps an oxygen mask around my face and smiles at me reassuringly. “We’ll take good care of you, sir.”
My coughing fit slows down. The man introduces himself as Leo and tells me he has to cut my shirt off with scissors. Thank fuck I took my cut off and threw it in the truck before I got in.
I clench my teeth and groan in pain as he pulls the shirt away from my left arm. When I look down, I’m not afraid to admit that the sight almost makes me pass out. The tattooed skin is covered in red welts and nasty, bubbled blisters. Some have already popped open, and the skin has burnt away. The pain is almost unbearable when I look at it, so I force myself to look away.
“You have a couple burns on your face, too. I need to take a closer look,” Leo says.
