I watched in horror as ghastly wisps of translucent smoke curled around the ceiling.
No.
Pulses of heat began to radiate from the walls and floor.No, no, no.
I heard the first unearthly hiss and crack creeping through the house like a predator.Then, the flash.
WallsIhad worked so hard to clean, prime, and paint glowed as flames emerged from inside them like the dead crawling out of their graves and coming back to life.
I was frozen, paralyzed between fight or flight.Therewas no wayIcould fight this.Ineeded to get out.Butforcing my body out of that trepidation was impossible.Myfeet had been nailed to the floor, forcing me to watch in abject horror as paint began to curl and peel off the wall like the house was sloughing off dead skin.
The squeeze of my lungs asIgasped for breath was a wake-up call.Smokesnaked beneath the door.Irushed over and yanked it open, only to be met by a barrage of flames between me and the stairs.
That was stupid.
I slammed the door closed asIstarted to rack my brain for all the little fire safety lessons we had learned in school.Fireliked oxygen.Lessoxygen, less fire.Thenagain, the same was true for people.
I darted to the closet and yanked it open.Thedrop cloth we had used to cover the perimeter of the floor while we were painting was heavy, butIdragged it out and shoved it under the door to block the smoke.Sure, it was spattered with flammable paint, but something was better than nothing.Thepop and roar of flames steadily grew louder as the fire drowned out the rain.
I flipped the lock on the window and pushed, but it wouldn’t rise.Thedamn thing was stuck.Itried again, bracing my feet and shoving with my entire body.Noteven a creak or flinch.
“Come on, come on, come on,”Imuttered.
Talking to myself was a stupid thing to do.Smokefilled my lungs.Istumbled backward, coughing and wheezing.Myknees hit the floor as the smoke ascended to the ceiling.
Pressure built behind my eyes as my body tried to cry, but couldn’t.Itwas fuckinghot.
I clawed my way back up to the window and tried to shove it open, but it was no use.Thewindow wasn’t moving.EvenifIdid manage to get it open, it would let air in, growing the blaze.Iwas three floors high.Therewas no wayIcould survive the jump.Fallinginto the sand dunes from this height would feel like landing on concrete.Myphone was downstairs.Thatwas, if it wasn’t a molten pile of metal yet.
Jack’s house was empty, and the summertimers renting the property on the other side probably weren’t outside to see the fire.
My head swam as the acrid taste of smoldering dreams coated my tongue.
This house was allIhad.Itwas supposed to be my way out.Ihad an offer on it.
I had worked so hard to climb out of rock bottom, and now this?Thisis how it ended?Trapped, alone, and struggling to breathe?
The tears started to fall, thoughIdidn’t know how long they’d last against the heat.
My head swam asIcurled on the floor with my rain-dampened shirt pulled over my nose and mouth.
Between the storm clouds and smoke, it was nearly dark.Thehouse creaked and trembled like the death rattle was being exhaled from her lungs.
The floor beneath me shook in a steady thump, thump, thump.Glassexploded, probably from the pressure or heat.Icovered my head, just in case my window did the same.
But it didn’t.
I had been so scared to tellJackhowIreally felt about him.Iwas scared becauseIwas going to take that offer and walk away from the best manIhad ever known just because my stubbornness was pushing me to be right rather than happy.
This was it.
He would find my body mixed with the bones of this house.Myname would joinLucas’son the list of people who loved and were loved byJackWharton.Maybeit was for the best.Icouldn’t survive knowing thatIwas one of two names that had strippedJackof his ability to let love in.
I sobbed as the world turned upside down andIbegan to levitate.
“Breathe, baby.Breathe.”
I tried to open my eyes to find the voice, but the air stung with ash and venom.
