“I got this,” Cam said to Nic. “Make sure the other units are clear.” Nic nodded and took off down the hall, banging on doors, while Cam crouched in front of the little girl. “Hey, sweetheart. What’s your name?”
“Amali.”
“Amali, my name’s Cam, and that’s my friend Nic.” He shone his light at Nic, who was rustling stragglers out of their units and directing them to the far stairwell. “We’re cops,” he oversimplified. “We need to get you out of here.”
She grabbed Cam by the hand and tugged him inside the unit. “I can’t leave Nani.” In the living area, an older woman wheezed and struggled to stand from a wheelchair.
Cam glanced at the pictures on the walls. Amali with a mom and dad and her grandmother, her Nani. “Where are your parents?”
“Wedding,” the older woman said. “Sacramento. On their”—she broke into another coughing fit— “way back.”
“Boston!” Nic called from the door. “Hall is clear. We gotta get out of here.”
“Help me!” he hollered as he darted into the kitchen. He grabbed the hand towels off the fridge door, wet them, and was coming back into the living room as Nic charged in. Cam tossed him a towel and was going to offer to carry the grandmother, but Amali had already attached herself to his leg.
“Don’t leave!”
“We’re not, sweetheart.”
“I’ve got Riya,” Nic said, tying the cloth over the older woman’s mouth, whose name he’d also apparently gotten.
Cam knelt and did the same for Amali, then picked her up in his arms, shifting her onto one hip.
“Stairwell across the hall is closer.” Nic adjusted Riya in his arms. “Open some doors for me.”
“Amali, I want you to hide right here.” Cam patted his chest and Amali shoved her face into it. “We’re going to run, okay?”
She nodded, and Cam hauled ass to the door, Nic on his heels. He held his breath and charged across the hallway. Visibility was nil, the air roasting, and Amali screamed in his arms, but they made it across the hallway in one piece, unburnt. He slammed open the stairwell door, his own eyes watering from the smoke, and Nic barreled through behind him. Shante was waiting for them on the third-floor landing.
“We’re clear up there!” Nic said. “All clear here?”
“Clear, Captain.”
“Let’s get out of here!”
Cam couldn’t agree more.
Three
It was closer to sunrise than sunset when Nic emerged from a cloud of steam in Cam’s bathroom, a far cry from the cloud of smoke they’d staggered out of earlier with Amali and Riya. Heat and smoke had nipped their heels every step of the way, but they’d made it to the ground floor, Shante throwing open the door to glorious fresh air. And to Amali’s tearful, thankful parents who’d been waiting outside. He and Cam had gotten the reunited family seen to, then, after a couple hits off a shared oxygen mask, they’d assisted the actual first responders until residents had been allowed back inside. Nic, however, was barred from staying in his unit. Between the smoke that had poured through the air vents and the overflowing water from the sprinklers in the upstairs unit, Nic’s new home had been deemed uninhabitable. He’d only been allowed in to quickly grab essentials, most of which were still packed in his suitcases by the door.
He’d grabbed his luggage while Cam had packed up the Instant Pot, the stew preserved under the locked pressure lid. As much as Nic wanted to sleep, he also wanted to eat, his body thrown out of whack from the travel and unplanned all-nighter. Maybe food would also make the difficult conversation he’d avoided earlier—the one about what an idiot his father had been—go down easier.
Cursing him, Nic yanked on a borrowed tee, rolled it down to the top of his sweats, and ran a hand through his damp hair. Situated well enough, he strolled across the open dining area and into the kitchen where Cam stood ladling stew into bowls, his cat winding around his feet.
Cam’s dark eyes twinkled up at him, surprisingly awake for four in the morning. “Beer to go with?” he asked with a nod to the fridge.
He’d showered first while Nic had been on the phone with the arson investigator, filling him in on what they’d detected at the scene. Nic had also made it known they wanted to be kept in the loop. Because it was his home, he’d claimed. Because it was a nasty welcome home present, he suspected.
“I’ll get it,” Nic said, ignoring the hissing orange furball. He and Bird had been on good terms before he’d left for San Diego. Apparently, he was going to have to win the beast over again.
Food and drink in hand, they bypassed the dining table for the deep-cushioned couch in the living room. Digging in, Nic hummed as the rich flavors of the stew hit his tongue. “Thank you for the housewarming gift,” he said a few spoonfuls later. “Even if we are enjoying it at your place.”
Cam shot him a sideways grin. “I’m just glad it survived. Otherwise it would’ve been cup of noodles.”
“Wouldn’t be my first time.”
“Military?”
