Nova
The nonstop buzzing of my cell phone drags me out of a dead sleep. The room is still dark, with only the outside lights bleeding in around the closed blinds. I reach for the nightstand, knock the phone away, then finally get my hand around it. Mica groans beside me, already half awake.
When I see Mac’s name on the screen, I immediately start worrying. Mac doesn’t call in the middle of the night unless there is an emergency.
“Mac,” I answer, hauling myself up to a sitting position and shoving my hair out of my face with my free hand. I hear sirens in the background. “Are you okay? What’s going on?”
“Nova, there’s another fire. You need to come right away.” His voice is shaky and there is an edge of fear in his tone.
“Wait. What do you mean about there being another fire? Did someone set fire to the office again?”
“No, girl. There’s a fire at your chopper shop in town,” he replies.
I go completely still, trying to wrap my mind around how this could be happening. Mica sits up beside me, gently taking the phone from my hand.
“It’s Mica,” he says calmly. “What’s going on? Tell me everything.”
Mac launches into an explanation, “I heard dispatch send out a fire truck to Vulture’s Custom Choppers on my CB. I like to listen to the chatter when I can’t sleep. The minute I realized what was going on, I came straight to the shop. Word on the street is that someone came out of a bar down the street, saw smoke coming out of the building and called it in.”
“Be straight with me, Mac. How bad is it?”
Mac’s voice turns emotional. “A second fire truck just showed up. Both crews are doing their best to put the fire out. To be honest, it’s looking like a total loss. The whole front right side has collapsed.”
Mica swears under his breath, even as his free hand settles against my back.
I just feel numb. This can’t be happening, not again.
Mac lowers his voice, “Look, you need to get your asses down here right fuckin’ now. The police just showed up.”
“Hang tough, Mac,” Mica tells him. “We’ll be with you soon.”
“Oh, I’m not going anywhere,” Mac growls. “Not until somebody tells me what in the hell is going on.”
Mica ends the call and sets my phone on the nightstand. Then he reaches over and turns on the lamp. We look at each other in disbelief.
“Why is this happening?” I ask, and I hate how hollowed out my voice sounds. I press one hand flat against my sternum. “I’m a decent person. I’ve never done anything to hurt anybody. Why is someone so hell-bent on taking everything mygrandfather left me before I even get the chance to make it mine?”
Mica pulls me into his lap and holds me there for a reassuring moment. Something about having his solid arms around me always makes me feel better. “I don’t know yet,” he says quietly. “But I’m sure as hell going to find out.”
When I pull back, he sets me on my feet. “Get dressed, sweetness. We need to get down there and see the situation for ourselves.”
That’s all I need to hear to get me moving in the right direction. I pull on my jeans, my shirt, and my cut without fumbling and come back to find him already booted up with his keys in hand.
“Are you okay coming with? If not, I can deal with this myself.”
I’m shaking my head before he even finishes speaking. “No, this is my business and my responsibility. I’m not handing this off to you or anyone else.”
***
The night air is cold enough to clear the last of the sleep from my head. After strapping on my helmet, I climb onto the back of Mica’s bike and wrap my hands around his waist. We pull out of the compound and head towards the interstate. The drive gives me time to think, and I can’t help but wonder if the fire was started by old wiring gone bad or if someone did this intentionally. Those are the two best guesses.
Mica pushes the speed limit, hugs the curves, and does everything humanly possible to get us to the chopper shop fast.At one point his left hand comes back to rest on my leg. My emotions rise to the surface just knowing that even in a crisis he’s still trying to give me comfort and support. I slip my arms around his stomach a little tighter and lay my cheek on his back. No matter what happens, we’re going to make it through this together.
When we get near the shop, billows of smoke rise from the area, crows are circling overhead and eventually we can see orange flames rising from the building. My stomach lurches and I press my forehead between his shoulder blades and close my eyes for just a second.
I feel guilty for not spending more time at the chopper shop. Unfortunately, the trucking business eats up the majority of my time. And since the chopper shop has a full-time manager who knows his shit, I let him do what my grandfather hired him to do. My thought has always been that I could have more time to dedicate to the chopper shop once the trucking company was fully staffed and running smoothly.
The smell of smoke is thick enough to choke us the closer we get. I realize almost immediately it’s because we are downwind. Mica pulls upwind and although we can still smell it, the smoke does not settle in our throats. There are two fire trucks in front of the shop with strobing red and white lights. Mica slows and stops just short of the barricade.
