Page 3 of No Good Fight

“I’m literally standing beside a fire.”

“You’re still shivering.”

God.

Why does he notice everything?

“I didn’t realize the fire department was so committed to public service,” I mutter.

His mouth twitches again.

“Only for difficult reporters who don’t understand they should wear warm clothes when they’re covering news.”

Before I can answer, somebody nearby starts screaming.

“My cat!”

Every head on the street turns instantly.

An older woman pushes toward the building while another firefighter catches her arm before she can run inside.

“My cat is still in there!”

I see him tense next to me, and fight to keep from grabbing him.

Absolutely not.

Nope.

The roof groans overhead loud enough to make my stomach tighten.

Smoke pours through the broken windows, thicker now. Meaner.

Ryder doesn’t even hesitate. He starts toward the building immediately while I stare at him like he’s lost his entire mind.

“You cannot be serious.”

He looks back once while securing his turnout gear. “Stay here.”

Oh, absolutely not.

Something hot flashes through my chest, so fast it surprises me.

“Ryder—”

But he’s already disappearing back into the smoke.

My pulse climbs into my throat. I hate this. I hate this so much and I can’t even figure out the reason why.

Logically I know this is literally his job, but my body doesn’t seem interested in logic right now. My fingers tighten around the camera hard enough they ache while smoke continues pouring out of the building in thick black waves.

One minute passes.

Then another.

The woman beside the ambulance is still crying, and I can’t blame her. She’s probably lost everything in this fire. And Ryder went back into the damn building to try and rescue her cat.

Emergency lights flash across the wet street over and over and over, a muted symphony to the discord all around us.