“It’s us, Chloe,” he said in a pleading whisper while Alyssa and Xavier stood and watched us silently.
“Come on, sis. Come back to us,” Logan added, tortured. Chloe’s breathing was so shallow that it was nearly imperceptible.
She had to come back and smile again, to look at me with those impish gray eyes.
She had to come back to my room to get into my closet and take all the sweatshirts she wanted.
She had to come back and tell me what an asshole I was with girls.
She had to come back to lecture me about smoking too much, like she did all the time.
She had to come back to snuggle against my chest and whisper to me how much she loved me and how she’d always be there for me.
She had to come back to give me compliments only when she wanted something in return.
She had to come back to make her sassy faces and sulk when we fought and flip me the bird when I said something insulting.
She had to come back because, if my siblings weren’t there, I wouldn’t be there either.
Because if they were done, I’d be done too.
“I’m right here, kiddo,” I whispered, hugging her tightly. I didn’t cry. I never did, in fact. I felt so drained, so exhausted, that I didn’t have any tears left to express my internal state. I just held her tight to me and squeezed my eyes shut, hoping that when I opened them again, I would wake from my nightmare.
But, unfortunately, that wasn’t what happened. As soon as I opened my eyes, reality stared me in the face again.
Just this fucked reality.
“Neil…” Chloe’s weak voice moved across my skin, raising goosebumps. She clutched my leather jacket with one hand and looked up at me, her gray eyes hitting me like a blow.
“Good morning, kiddo.” I smiled, feeling my heart soften and melt like ice in the sun’s heat.
“Thank God, Chloe.” Logan kissed all over her head the way he used to when she was little: her head, her cheeks, her forehead, and her nose.
It was these two, the only good things that came from my childhood.
We had just seconds to get away from the car—seconds that would mean the difference between life and death.
“We need to run, now!” Xavier shouted, urging us to move. I scooped up Chloe in my arms, and we all began to run with all the energy we had left, lungs burning as we sucked in air.
It was a matter of a moment.
A moment in which we managed to get as far as we could from that doomed car.
A moment in which our lives hung in the balance.
A moment in which I realized that, if I didn’t free my sister in time, there would be nothing left of her but ashes.
We quickly made it to my Maserati, and I deposited Chloe in the back seat with Logan and Alyssa. Xavier threw himself into the passenger seat, and I got behind the wheel.
And, just then, the other car exploded.
It was blown sky-high, causing a thick cloud of smoke to rise into the air. The shock wave from the blast was so intense that the windows of my carvibrated. I started the car and hit the gas. The tires screeched noisily as we peeled out of the parking lot. In the rearview mirror, I watched as the flames climbed higher into the sky.
“I win, you son of a bitch,” I murmured in satisfaction.
* * *
When we got back home, my sobbing mother tackled Chloe just before Matt gave her a long, loving hug. My sister was still very shaken up, even though Logan had untied all the ropes and comforted her all the way home.
