Page 1 of Golden Ruin

CHAPTER ONE

Lexi

The smell of it hits me first, jarring me awake.

Then, I try to draw a breath but cough instead when my lungs refuse to take in air.

Something’s wrong.

Very wrong.

I open my eyes, squinting through the thick haze of smoke, already feeling the sting. A faint beeping in the distance grows louder as awareness sets in, then I notice it.

The flickering orange glow from underneath my bedroom door.

Shit!

I jump to my feet, heart hammering my ribs. I have to get to him. Have to get to Jax.

Shit!

I’m disoriented. This… this isn’t right. I fell asleep in a quiet room, knowing my son was safe down the hall, and now…

I reach for the doorknob just as my sister rushes into my bedroom, and the look on her face mirrors my own horror.

“Lex, we’ve gotta go. Now!” she shouts, making sure she’s heard over the blaze roaring behind her.

Fire creeps up the walls, melting the floral wallpaper as flames lick the ceiling. Heat presses in, stealing what little air I have left.

Amelia grips my arm, but she’s pulling me the wrong way. “What are you doing?”

“We have to go! If we wait, we won’t make it out!”

I can hardly comprehend what she’s saying, because it sounds like she expects me to leave him.

“I have to grab Jax. He’s–”

“There’s no time! The back of the house is already engulfed, Lex. Come on!”

I pull out of her grasp without another thought, then take a step toward his bedroom. For half a second, I hesitate. Not because I’ve changed my mind, but because… I’m afraid of what I’ll find when I get there.

“Lex–”

She reaches for me again, but I pull away. “Let go. I’m not leaving him,” I say again, and when she stands there, wasting precious time, I move closer to the flames, shielding my nose and mouth in the bend of my elbow, trying to see through the thick smoke.

I glance back, thinking there’s a chance Amelia may have changed her mind and followed, but I’m on my own.

A tear slips down my cheek, but it dries quickly in the heat. I push forward, mostly moving through the house on memory. I can’t make out doors or walls. I’m going off instinct, an inexplicable pull leading me toward my son.

“Damn it!”

I recoil from the sting when I grip his doorknob, crouching low when a loud bang above my head nearly stops my heart. The house groans around me, like it’s in pain, like it’s trying to hold up just long enough for me to save him.

Please, God. Don’t let me be too late.

Slipping my sleeve over my hand, I twist the knob, ignoring the burn this time, because nothing is stopping me.

His door slams the wall when I push in, and I squint through the smoke, hoping to see something, but I’m going in blind.