“I’m not leaving you!” A tendril of flame parted enough to give him a clear view of where she stood on the other side, locked out of the clearing. Of getting to him. She’d dumped her gear back at her house. There was no breaking through without it. Silver glinted in her eyes as she stared on helplessly. No amount of books and research articles were going to help them out of this. She had a chance to escape. She needed to take it.
Damn it. She’d promised. She’d promised to leave him if anything happened. The fire seemed to roar as it ate up the debris at his feet. Temperatures climbed, beading sweat along his throat and in his hairline. The clearing was closing in on him. The fire was spreading up the trunks of the trees around him, closing off any potential of escape. There was nothing they could do. No way for him to outrun this.
“Get out of here!” Smoke caught in his airway. Burned. He gasped for breath, the sound blocking out any response Aslen might’ve had. Coughing up what felt like his lungs, he forced one foot in front of the other. To put space between them. She didn’t need to see him die. He wouldn’t let her last memories of him tarnish her love for her job. Murray tried to suck in clean air, but there was nowhere in the tightening circle for him to go.
This was it.
This was how he’d lose her forever. Not through any deal he’d made to let her go or by suffocating her with his overprotectiveness, but by his own stupidity in assuming the arsonist hadn’t taken the time to set a trap for anyone who might pursue him on foot. The bastard had rigged this clearing to catch fire before Murray and Aslen had showed up at the campground. He’d been waiting. For them.
And now Aslen would pay the price he’d tried to protect her from for the past twenty years.
His energy seemed to bleed from every pore as the heat intensified and the smoke worked its way into his lungs, stealingprecious oxygen. Pain spiked through his knees as he hit the ground. “Aslen…”
Just as an explosion rocked through the park.
Chapter Thirteen
The blast reverberated through the trees, shoving Aslen onto all fours.
Debris and rock pierced the soft tissues of her palms. Blood drained from her face and neck, holding her hostage in place. Her instincts honed in on the direction the explosion had come from as the fire in front of her climbed higher, walling her off from the man stuck on the other side. The campground. Her heart rate kicked into double time. The arsonist… He must’ve rigged his RV to explode as a fail-safe. Black smoke shot into the sky through the tree line, and it took everything Aslen had not to collapse completely. “No.”
Rebecca and her family… They could’ve gotten caught in the aftermath. Every cell in her body screamed for her to move—to do something—as her body temperature skyrocketed. The accelerant the arsonist had used added to the fire’s heat. Cooking her blood in her veins. Backup was already on the way, but would they reach the campground in time? Would there be anyone left to save?
“Aslen, get out of here!” Murray’s voice choked off in a coughing fit.
One objective. That was all she could focus on. Save Murray or help that family. Her stomach rolled for fear of failing them both, but her gut supplied the deep-rooted answer she’d never be able to live with if she made the wrong choice. Murray. Shecouldn’t lose the one thread tying her to this life, the one who’d kept her going despite the rejections, the loneliness and hurt. He was trapped. Losing oxygen as the fire closed in around him. She caught a glimpse of him through the flames, his hand protecting his face as much as possible. But it wouldn’t be enough.
“Aslen!”
The walls were on fire. Too hot. Gravity clawed against her stomach and chest. The fire licked at the edges of her bed frame. It was so close, but terror had frozen her in place. Kept her from shouting out as her dad stormed into her bedroom. That same terror contorted his face as he circled her room, going for her closet first then ripping back her sheets on her bed. He was looking for her.
But she couldn’t tell him she was here. Under the bed. She couldn’t tell him what she’d done. He’d be so mad at her. He’d stop loving her.
Her mom had told her matches were dangerous, but Aslen was so careful. She’d blown them out before the flame had gotten all the way down to her fingers, but the last one had burned faster than she’d expected. The fire had bit at her fingers, and she’d dropped the match on the carpet. Right over the nail polish stain she’d tried to hide from a few weeks ago. The entire carpet had gone up in flames in an instant. So fast. She’d tried to stop it with her pillow, but that’d only made it worse. Within seconds, her entire room had caught fire, and there was nowhere for her to go.
“Aslen, where are you!” Her dad dropped her bedding in the middle of the floor. “Aslen!”
Her whimper was lost to the crackle of flames as Daddy raced from the room. No. He couldn’t just leave her here. Sobs tightened her chest and throat. The tears dried almost instantly when met with the suffocating heat trapped beneath the bed frame and mattress with her.
She dug her fingers into Felicia’s soft body, her redheaded Cabbage Patch Kid’s face too pliable against her cheek. The fire was getting closer, nipping at her bare feet pressed against the back wall. A sob broke free. “Daddy.”
She couldn’t breathe. Aslen tossed Felicia from under the bed, her nails biting into the untouched section of carpet ahead of her to crawl out of her hiding spot. “Come back!”
He didn’t have to love her. He could hate her forever as long as he didn’t leave her here alone. Crackles and pops sounded from her right. The single window in her room shattered into a million pieces, and she ducked her face between her arms. Her scream barely reached over the roar of fire pillowing along the ceiling. Black smoke raced toward the broken window. “Daddy, I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please don’t leave me.”
She shoved her princess comforter out of her way, sacrificing it to the flames charging along the wall. Tears blinded her as she grabbed for Felicia’s soft arm and lunged for the bedroom door. Flames licked out from the doorframe and bit her arm. Her scream was short-lived as the pain flared faster and spread to her shoulder.
Her shirt was on fire.
The whole house was on fire.
And Daddy was gone.
She lost her hold on Felicia as she slapped at the sleeve of her shirt, but it was no use. Her shoulder bumped into the opposite wall, and she fell to the floor. Her hair caught, curling in on itself in black threads. The smell curdled her stomach and burned her nostrils. Someone was screaming, and it took a few seconds to realize it was her.
“Aslen!” Her dad lunged from his bedroom into the hallway. His hands were all over her, shoving her down onto the floor and forcing her body to roll back and forth until the fire was gone. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”
But the pain stayed. More than getting shots at the doctor’s office or breaking her wrist last summer trying to skateboard for the first time like that boy down the street.
