Now Lewis is leaning in, too.
“Forget it. I can’t believe how backed up this street is.” My voice sounds screechy. “Can you see anything?”
I hear Lewis pulling himself out the window to try to see what’s slowing us down.
“Flashing lights and smoke. Take a right, Lane. Straight ahead is all blocked up.”
The car jolts when we hang a sharp right, and as we crawl around the neighborhood, I’m getting a bad feeling about all of this.
By the time we make it to the other side of the road and pull up near the motel, my fears are proving right. The street is still clogged, and a little farther down, police officers are directing the traffic.
“Oh no…”
I unfasten my seat belt and step out of the car, racing toward a security barrier where I stand on my tiptoes, although I can already sense just how big a deal this is.
I freeze when a cop spots me and starts waving me away.
“Move along, please!”
I step back, my eyes locked on the thick black smoke spilling out of the building. The motel.My motel is going up in flames.
As I keep backing away, I feel something slam into my back. Or someone, more like. I try battling against whatever is preventing me from moving away, my eyes stinging from the smoke, but a strong arm holds me in place.
“¿Qué pasa?” Lewis asks as he appears at my right.
Donovan comes to my left, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out who’s blocking the way behind me. Lane towers above me, surveying the disaster.
“Fuck. I’ve never met anyone this unlucky.”
His voice is so low and deep, I can feel his chest thrumming against my head, and I shiver. I sway on my feet, fighting back a sob.
Lewis isn’t getting it. “What’s burning?”
Oh, just my soul in the flames of hell.
“The Break Inn,” I answer.
“Why the sad face, dude?” Lewis says, looking at Lane.
“Because that was my only backup plan,” I hear myself answer on Lane’s behalf.
5LANE
Her fucking motel is on fire!
I replay it over in my head—guess I’m a masochist like that.
“This cannot be happening,” Lois whimpers.
She’s standing in front of me, my chest flat against her back, and when I finally let her go, she sways dangerously on her feet. Donovan has moved over to the security barrier and is talking to the cop. They seem to know each other, but maybe not. Don will chat with anyone.
“Nobody died!” he shouts, trotting back over to us. “Are you okay, Lois? You’re all white.”
She’s still staring into space, her eyelids fluttering.
Jesus, here come the waterworks again.
The crowd is pressing against us, and we need to move. I tug at Heartbreak’s elbow, leading her back to the car, where I slouch against the door with my arms folded.
