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Wolfgang ran around the end of the bed. He charged me, an angry cry contorting his face.
I raised the lamp, wincing, anticipating his blow.
As his feet came down on the duvet, he skidded sideways, landing on his back. “Oof!”
I heaved the lamp like a sledgehammer. The brass base smashed into his forehead with a sickeningthunk.
I hoisted the lamp again, ready to strike.
Wolfgang’s eyes rolled up into his head, his mouth gaped, and the crowbar clattered onto the floor as his grip slackened.
I fell back against the wall, my body shaking so much I almost dropped the lamp. A crash from the other side of the door reminded me that I wasn’t free to skip on home yet. Smoke poured into the room from under the door.
Giving Wolfgang a wide berth, I dashed to the dresser that blocked the door, heaved it aside, and hopped about on the wood floor now sizzling under my bare feet. The door knob was probably searing, but thanks to Wolfgang’s crowbar work on the jamb, I didn’t need to touch it.
Using my fingertips, I inched open the door. Flames crammed the hallway, slathering the walls, blackening the ceiling. Heat blasted my hair back, scorching my face and chest.
I was so screwed.
I closed the door and shoved the dresser back in front of it. After a quick check on Wolfgang to confirm that the beast still slept, I crept to him and grabbed the crowbar. The window was my only shot. Just one more board and I could fall to freedom.
Wrestling the board, my sweat-and-blood-slick hands lost hold of the crowbar, which clattered to the floor just missing my toes. I wiped my hands on the bed sheets and returned to the window. This board fought me, its nails buried deep; but I refused to give up and one side of the board splintered free.
I whooped in victory.
“Violet!”
I screamed and turned. Wolfgang was still sprawled on the floor, his eyes still closed.
The dresser scraped across the floor a couple of inches. The door banged against it.
“Violet, move the damned dresser!” Doc yelled through the crack in the door.
I raced over and shouldered the dresser aside.
He stumbled into the room, wrapped in the gray plaid blanket from his car. He lowered the cover, his face streaked with soot and sweat. After a glance at Wolfgang, he frowned at me. “Are you okay?”
“I’ve been better.”
“You don’t look so hot.”
Well, I hadn’t had time to freshen up, yet. “Give me ten more minutes and I’ll be smoking.”
His eyes narrowed. “Didn’t I warn you about this house?”
“Oh, shut up!” I noticed the red canister in his hands. A fire extinguisher. I planted my hands on my hips. “Are you here to rescue me or lecture me? Because if it’s the latter, I’m jumping out the window.”
He grinned and lifted the cover. “Get under here, smartass.”
I hesitated, my gaze bouncing between him and the window.
“What?” he asked.
“I don’t have any shoes.” I’d sooner free-fall than dance across hot coals.
A crash boomed over our heads.
Wincing, I stared up at the ceiling, which creaked and groaned. A fracture appeared near the interior wall and streaked toward the front of the house, plaster raining down in its wake.
