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But, as long as I’m with Damon, I am happy.
“I want to take the scenic route,” Damon tells me as we speed around a corner.
“What do you mean?” I ask him.
“I want to drive past my brewery,” he replies.
I turn to him and place my hand on the back of his neck, stroking him. “I’d like that.”
As we turn a few more corners heading in the direction of the brewery, I start to see a bright color above the tops of the trees.
The one thing penetrating the night sky.
Red.
A deep, violent red.
“Is that... afire?” I remark, straining my head forward closer to the car window to better see the alarming color streak across the sky in front of us.
No way. Fire? At the brewery?
My man is already thinking far ahead of me. Damon is deadly calm, even when processing the deadly fact that his most prized possession might be in flames. He presses a button on his steering wheel and is immediately speaking to Jim.
“I think there’s a fire at the brewery,” he says to his trusted lieutenant.
“A fire?” Jim’s gravelly voice is clear through the loudspeakers. He’s businesslike, not alarmed in the slightest.
The two men have clearly dealt with panic before. They know how to handle a crisis.
“I can’t make it out,” Damon continues, “but I think it’s where the brewery should be. We’re heading to it now. Better send backup, and better make it fast.”
“Okay,” Jim replies. “I’ll send out a security team and alert the emergency services. You’re nearly there?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t do anything reckless, Damon.”
“I won’t.”
“Wait until the security team gets there. I know what you’re like. Please don’t.”
“I won’t, Jim.”
Damon hangs up with a growl and then starts to shoot toward the brewery, taking us at breakneck speeds around bends in the direction of the fire.
He doesn’t say a word as we spin around dangerous country roads.
He is thinking, and I am freaking out.
Fire?
Could it really be? The brewery?
How?
And why?
And then we see it.
