He followed close to her side. She couldn’t help but notice how he glanced over his shoulder every few steps. He also held his wrist with the other hand.
“You okay?” she asked.
“Mitzy got me.” He held up the hurt hand. Sure enough, the cat had left a scratch that was more like a gash down his forearm.
“Thank you for standing up for her.” Lucy opened her front door and Mitzy ran between her feet, heading straight for the top of the fridge. “She may not understand you were helping her, but I do.”
“Thanks.” Simon held his wrist again. “Is she okay?”
Lucy grabbed her puny first aid kit and tore open one of the alcohol packets. “She’s just on edge. When she calms down I’ll check her out. How long did they have her?”
He wiped at the scratch, droplets of blood soaking into the thin paper wipe. “Not long. I was there when they caught her. She was hiding under the dumpster. They got her to come out with a slice of bologna.”
Lucy glanced to Mitzy. Aside from looking supremely pissed off, she seemed okay.
“She’ll be all right,” Lucy assured.
“Do you have to tell my dad?” Simon sounded like he would rather have all his teeth pulled one by one than bring his dad into the situation.
“Of course I do. Those kids can’t get away with this. They tried to take Mitzy and the other day they pushed you. Theyhurtyou. They hurt her. This has to stop.”
“Jayden’s dad is the mayor. He’ll make things awful for Dad.”
“Jayden was the kid holding her?” The ringleader of the totally messed up circus.
“Yeah.”
“Look, I have to tell your dad. We can tell him together, if you’d rather. This is a big problem and it’s not the kind of thing kids should have to deal with. Grown-ups handle things like this.”
Lucy opened the freezer door and grabbed an ice pack. Mitzy apparently didn’t appreciate being bothered up on top of the fridge. She hopped down, straight onto the counter, sending the dishes Lucy had set to dry crashing to the floor.
“Mitzy—” That’s as far as Lucy got before the on-edge cat scampered up the curtains on the window above the stove. Her claws gripped the polyester as she tried to get away. The rod collapsed and Mitzy tumbled to the stovetop. She screeched a long wail and scampered from the counter. Lucy gasped in horror when Mitzy’s back leg struck the loose knob, and it turned with a click. As if trapped in a nightmare, fire erupted from the gas burner, melting the polyester curtain.
Lucy dropped the ice pack and turned on the faucet. The rushing in her ears overwhelmed all sense. She held her breath against the rising smoke and dumped cup after cup of water onto the flames. They licked farther up the wall, the aging building putting up no fight. Instead it acted as kindling for the fire.
No. No. No.
She couldn’t get enough water to make a difference. Her gaze flitted to the curtains turning to flames on the stove. Hysteria tried to overtake her, but no way would she let the entire apartment building burn down because of her.
“Simon, go get your grandma. Tell her there’s a fire.” Lucy coughed against the smoke plumes. Air wouldn’t come. “Call nine-one-one. Tell her to get everyone out.”
Simon ran to the door. Flames licked across the counter, rising up along the wall to the cabinets.
She fell to the floor and dug through the cupboard under the sink. There had to be a fire extinguisher she hoped was newer than the appliances. The saddest excuse for a smoke alarm chirped weakly as the smoke increased.
She blinked against reality. Her heartbeat pulsed rapidly. The acrid scent of smoke filled the apartment.
Bright stars danced in her vision, blurring the room so it all felt like a dream. She clenched her eyes closed as her hand finally wrapped around the fire extinguisher.
Opening them again, flames danced in front of her. She pulled the pin and gulped back a sob.
…
Sirens wailed in the distance. William broke into a full run to Lucy’s apartment, trying to ignore the rising tide of panic in his chest. The door stood wide open, but no one was around. Something was very wrong.
He rushed across the entryway, and his heart stopped. Smoke burned his nostrils.
William bolted to the kitchen. Plumes of filmy soot made it impossible to see more than a few feet ahead of him. He moved farther into the room, coughing into his hand as flames licked along the cupboards. Thick gray smoke tumbled from the burning wood.
