My heart stutters.
Oh, God. What if he’s halfway up and the house collapses?
What if I get Mitch killed?
I lean out the window, half-convinced I should tell him to stop. I could try climbing down myself, if nothing else. Then if the building collapses, I’ll be the only one hurt.
But, to my shock, he’s already halfway up.
As he approaches the second floor window, he swings to the side to avoid the flames leaping from it. Sparks bounce off the blanket he has wrapped around his shoulders. Then he hoists himself up so he’s past the window, and continues his way to the third floor.
Though I’ve never been more terrified in my life—and that’s saying a lot, considering my ex held me at gunpoint and threatened to shoot me—I can’t help noticing how strong and confident Mitch looks as he moves. He doesn’t hesitate. Doesn’t show a hint of fear. His expression is nothing but absolute determination.
I guess I can see why people have a thing about firemen,I realize. I never thought about it much; to me, Mitch is just Mitch.
But watching him climb the wall of a burning building to rescue me?
Well. If Idoget out of here, I’m going to make sure I tell him how sexy it is.
On the heels of that thought, Mitch’s head reaches the window. He gives me a quick once over, then says, “I need you to climb out, Pen. I’ll grab you. And then we’ll be back down in a blink.”
Just as he finishes, the house shifts.
And it’s not in the way people refer to old houses shifting with the changing temperatures. As in, the entirebuildingsways to the side.
A tiny yip of fear escapes.
“Penny.” It’s rough. Urgent. “Move.Now.”
Yes. Move. Before the house falls and I get both of us killed.
Moving on uncoordinated legs, I start climbing through the window. Just as I get one leg over, another cough catches me, and I have to clutch the frame to keep from losing my balance.
“Come on,” Mitch says. He extends one arm out to me. “A little further, Pen. Then I’ve got you.”
Reassured by his nearness, I force the paralyzing fear aside and do as he asks.
Seconds later, his arm comes around me.
He hugs me against his chest and drapes the blanket around me, then asks, “You ready to get out of here?”
“Yes,” I croak.“Please.”
“Wrap your legs around my waist,” he says. “Hold on tight. This is going to be fast.”
I obligingly wrap my legs around him like a giant koala. “Okay.” And then, “Be careful.”
He doesn’t answer this time. Or maybe he does, but I can’t hear him over the sound of the flames as we zip past them.
My stomach lurches as we descend, reminding me of that time I went to Six Flags and almost threw up on the Daredevil’s Revenge. But at least then, I onlyfeltlike I was going to die. I didn’t think it was a real possibility.
Too terrified to look, I bury my face in Mitch’s neck and pray.
Let us both get out of this. But especially Mitch. Please.
Then we hit the ground hard enough to make my teeth clack together.
Before I can put my feet down, Mitch unclips the rope attached to his harness and starts running. He sprints away from the house, then veers to the left once he reaches the street, putting more distance between us and the inferno we just escaped.
