Page 43 of Saving Wyatt

And Salieri, aka Wilson, aka our dear mayor, had stolen a lot of money from both father and son.

“I…I can ask,” he said with some hesitation as Ari turned on Union Street, and I saw the smoke rising in the air two blocks down.

“I’ve got to…I’ve got to go. I’ll talk to you later,” I mumbled and turned to Ari. “That’s the Lodge.”

I pointed ahead, and Ari didn’t say anything. He just stepped on the gas and rushed straight ahead toward the source of the smoke.

And that was how we went from a relatively peaceful, quaint morning, into an inferno.

The Lodge was on fire. Plumes of black and gray rose from every side of the beloved bed-and-breakfast, and dozens of people stood outside watching it go up in flames.

Ari stopped the car, and we exchanged a brief glance before we rushed out to the nearest person.

It was Autumn, standing by the B&B’s white picket fence, her hands all over Elliot’s chest and shoulders and the dog he was holding in his hands.

“No! Elliot, no!” she screamed.

“What happened? Autumn, what happened?” I reached for her, and she turned to me.

Her face was puffy and her eyes red, fresh tears running down her cheeks but still doing her best to stop Elliot from running inside.

“Donovan. Mr. Rogers,” she said. “We couldn’t…I couldn’t…oh my God! I can’t.”

I’d never heard her like that. She was always so composed and put together. Quick-witted and snarky. This was an entirely different woman in front of me.

“Let me go!” Elliot shouted. “Let me…”

Ari stepped in front of Elliot and studied his face the way only a doctor would, and I felt the bitter taste of smoke against my lips.

With dread, I turned to look at the building, realization washing all over me. That motherfucker. He was determined to destroy us. To destroy everything.

“Are they still inside? They’re still inside, aren’t they?”

“Donovan. He went to get Mr. Rogers—” she started, but I didn’t wait for her to finish. I ran. I ran as fast as I could right into the inferno.

There was a whisper of my name in the air. Someone calling out for me. When I turned around, I found Ari right behind me.

“Get back!” I shouted. “Go back. Go back now.”

He didn’t listen. Instead, he covered his mouth and nose with his shirt and ran inside, unbothered by the danger he was putting himself in.

“Wait!” I shouted and ran inside after him, immediately enveloped by the fire. “You don’t even know where they are!”

I didn’t know if he could even hear me, but I took the lead and walked farther ahead, toward the back where Mr. Rogers’ room was.

A few steps forward and I felt a pair of hands pull me back just as a long beam dropped from the ceiling, causing a cloud of embers.

I glanced at him, at his hazy eyes, and he glanced back at me, and we both nodded. A silent show of gratitude in the middle of this chaos we were trapped in.

I pushed forward, navigating to Rogers’ room as his house, the place he’d built from the ground up all those years ago, turned to nothing but ash and scorched earth.

Just before we got to him, my boot hit something soft. I looked down. A tall man was sprawled all over the floor, his shirt and slacks on fire.

“Donovan.” Before I could even think, instinct took over and I started patting him down to put out the fire, and Ari joined me before he knelt beside him and checked his vitals.

“He’s still breathing,” he shouted.

“We need to get him out of here,” I said and pulled his arm. Ari dragged him by the other hand, and once he was upright, he pushed me away and stared right at me.