“This place is coming down!” Saxon shouted as he moved toward Huck.
But his knee crumpled, and he landed on all fours.
“I got him!” Rowan’s knife sliced through Huck’s restraints in seconds. The boy fell into his father’s arms with a sob, and for just a moment, the fierce warrior crumpled.
“I’ve got you.” His voice broke on the words. “I’ve got you, buddy.”
“Go!” Sierra fought against her own restraints, desperation giving her strength. “Get him out of here!”
Saxon fought his way over, and his knife sliced through her bonds. She grabbed the knife out of his hands, went to work on her ankle restraints. “Go! Go! I’m right behind you!”
Rowan looked between her and Huck. Then he grabbed Saxon by the back of his shirt, Huck on his hip. “Move!”
Saxon half stumbled, half crawled toward the door.
Then they were gone, swallowed by smoke and darkness.
Sierra sawed at her restraints. C’mon, c’mon!
The zip ties finally gave way as a burning beam crashed down over Tank.
She rolled away, her injured ankle screaming in protest.
The ceiling groaned ominously overhead.
She got to her knees, crawling hard for the kitchen door.
The ceiling fell, a beam flaming right in front of her. She jerked back, scrambling down the hallway.
Trapped.
Through the smoke and flames, she heard Rowan’s voice screaming her name. But the fire was too hot now, the smoke too thick. Even he couldn’t reach her through the inferno.
She pressed her hands over her mouth. And yet, even as the house burned around her, an odd sense of peace washed over her.
Who do I have in heaven but You?
Huck was safe.
That had to be enough.
Fourteen
No.
No.
Sierra did not die today.
Huck’s scream shook Rowan free of watching the front of his house collapse, the woman he loved inside.
“Hammer—you can’t go back in there.”
He rounded on Saxon with such a look that Saxon held up his hands. “It’s a death trap!” Blood gushed down his leg, but Saxon had wound a belt around the wound and was even finding his feet.
So, maybe not life-threatening.
Rowan had set Huck down on solid ground fifty feet or so from the burning house, his hands trembling as he released his son. The boy had felt weightless during the sprint through the front door, but now Rowan’s arms shook.
