Doctor Next Door

by Rush, Olivia

  “I know,” I said. “But I don’t think you should worry about that. You’re not Mom. You won’t be like her, OK?”

  A long silence followed. “How can you possibly know that? What if I’m exactly like her?”

  “That won’t happen. Mom was sick, Peggy. It was clear she was sick long before she had us. All that stuff that came after was a result of that. It’s not in you, sister. You’re healthy.”

  Peggy sniffled down the line. “I’m sorry. I can’t stop crying lately. I don’t know what’s going on with me.”

  “Ha, I think I do,” I replied, and we shared a chuckle over it.

  “Thanks, Becky. I don’t think I could do this without you. Dave’s amazing, of course, but it’s different talking to him than it is to you. He doesn’t have a vagina.”

  “Yeah, and if he did, you probably wouldn’t be in this situation,” I replied.

  She laughed again, and this one sounded genuinely happy. “See? There. I’m fine again. No more negative thoughts about…”

  “Let’s forget it,” I said and sat back on the sofa, still stroking Ty. “I’ll come visit you in a week or two after I’ve gotten settled into work and have saved up some cash. We can stay up late eating weird stuff.”

  “As long as you stay away from my chocolate corn.”

  “Honey, you’ll have to eat it in a different room than me,” I said. “I think you’re fine. Kisses.”

  “Kisses,” Peggy said, then hung up.

  I put my cell down on the sofa again, smiling, though my bubbly stomach still hadn’t settled down. Maybe it was something I’d eaten at Betsy’s. That lasagna had been absolutely delicious but pretty rich too. I swallowed and shut my eyes, resting my head on the sofa’s cushiony top.

  Ty gave a little puppy whine-snore next to me, and I kept stroking him, thoughts turning to what Peggy had said about Mom.

  Mom who’d had postpartum depression and struggled terribly. Mom who’d left us when we were young. Left us with a father who’d loved us dearly, but who’d ultimately become bitter and detached because of heartbreak.

  Taking a chance with Kieran had been a difficult thing for me to do. After all, how did I know he wouldn’t end up leaving like my mother had? And then…he had. And everything had gone to hell, and now I was on the path to doing it all over again.

  Was I stupid? Was everything happening with Mason totally fake, and I just couldn’t see it?

  “Stop,” I muttered and slowed my breathing. “Just stop it.” I didn’t have to doubt this anymore. Things were simplifying. Mason had started showing me more and more of himself over the past four weeks, and I trusted him.

  It was instinct. He wouldn’t hurt me intentionally. He wouldn’t lie.

  I caught the scent of a barbeque in the distance, eyes still closed, and grinned. Perhaps that was the surprise. A barbeque night under the stars with wine and candles, and Ty for company. And then…

  My nose wrinkled up as the scent thickened. Not the smell of cooking meat but wood burning.

  A crackle, followed by a loud pop, rang through the house. My eyes snapped open and teared up, immediately.

  Thick smoke drifted into the living room from the hall. It was acrid, dark, and definitely not from a fucking barbeque.

  “Fire!” I yelped, lamely. “Fire! Fire!” I snatched up Ty from the sofa and cradled him against my chest, shoving his nose into the fabric of my blouse. He barked at the disturbance, then sneezed at the smell. I sprang to my feet, covering my mouth and nose with one hand, and ran for the front door.

  I grabbed the handle and turned it, but it was locked. Impossible. I hadn’t locked it on my way in. In fact, I’d left it open so Ty could run in and out to the front yard at will, in case he needed the puppy bathroom.

  “What the fuck?” I coughed and rattled on the doorknob then slipped my fingers down to the keyhole. It was empty. The keys I’d left there were gone.

  I turned sideways fast and knocked my hip into the entrance table. Pain sprouted in my side, but I ignored it, reaching instead for my purse. I tipped it over and poured the contents onto the table. Tampons, lipstick, receipts, and my wallet poured out and bounced off the table.

  The keys were gone.

  Ty barked and struggled. I stroked him, pressing his head against my shirt. “It’s OK,” I managed, sputtering out coughs now.

  The thick smoke poured from the doorway at the end of the hall. The kitchen.

  Christ. Again. It was happening again. This was…

  My memory brought me back in time to the night at the restaurant, to the moment I’d discovered I was locked inside and—

  “No,” I coughed and forced my legs to work. “No. No.” I hacked and stumbled back through to the living room, eyes burning like they’d been set on fire. This wasn’t happening. I wouldn’t let it happen, and I wouldn’t succumb to the fear of it again.

  I made for the sofa, but the smoke was everywhere, fast filling the house, choking me. Choking Ty.

  Ty. No!

  I forced myself toward the end of the room, shifting my hand from my mouth and nose, and pressing it out straight, feeling for anything. Something. My phone! My phone’s on the sofa. But even if I reached it now and called the fire department, they likely wouldn’t have enough time to get here and inside before…

  Another thought I forced aside.

  My hand connected with something cold and flat. I brought myself forward, forcing my eyes open all the way, Ty growling and barking in my arms. A smoky view of the front garden waxed—it was the window. I’d reached the window.

  “Hang on, Ty,” I choked and fumbled with the window latch. It jammed, and I cursed, straining my arm against it. No. No fucking way, universe. This window is fucking opening, and that’s all there is to it. I won’t die like this. I rammed my fist against the latch, letting out a feral shriek, which brought on a volley of barks from Ty, then tugged on the latch again. It slipped up.

  Relief doused my fear. I slammed the sash window up, and smoke billowed out into the garden, fighting against the instreaming clean air.

  I lifted Ty through the gap and set him down outside, tears blinding my view of him and the garden now, praying that I’d let him down softly enough. He barked frantically below me, and I looped one leg through the open space, straddling the windowsill.

  I’m coming, Ty.

  I moved to get out at last, ducking my head low, but not low enough. A terrific crack rang out, and pain sprouted in my temple. Gray specks danced in front of my eyes. I fell, sideways, back into the house, Ty’s barking ringing in my ears.

  “Help,” I managed, before the speckles of shimmering gray turned black.

  Chapter 27

  Mason

  “Rebecca!” I roared, barreling through the front gate and up her front path. Ty barked frantically beneath an open window in the front yard, smoke billowing from it. The entire house was fucking smoking, and the pop-crackle of flames filled me with raw fear.

  I took the porch steps in a giant leap, lined my shoulder up with her front door, then ran at it. It crashed open and rebounded against my shoulder. Smoke enveloped me. My eyes watered, and I ripped my shirt off and tied it around my mouth and nose to block some of the damage.

  “Becca!” I yelled into the smoke.

  Christ, if I didn’t find her in here… No, that’s not happening.

  “Rebecca!” I screamed again.

  Ty’s barking outside still hadn’t stopped, but just underneath it, I made out a low groan.

  To the right. The living room. I bashed my way through and crouched low to the floor where the smoke was the thinnest. I scuffled across the carpeting on all fours, blinking back tears, scanning for her. Desperation built in my chest, but I kept a clear head. Panic now would only see us both killed.

  I caught sight of her hand first, lying across the carpet, the fingers curled inward toward her palm. My heart thudded against the inside of my chest. I gathered her in my arms hastily then rose, my muscle
s straining from the lack of oxygen.

  Almost there. Hold on, angel.

  I stumbled back the way I’d come through the smoke, blinking hard and bumping my legs into end tables, sofas, and what-the-fuck-ever was hidden in the smoke. Finally I reached the front door, burst out of it onto the porch, and rattled down the front steps.

  I fell onto my knees on the grass, gripping Becca to my chest and smoothing her hair back from her soot-streaked cheeks. “Come on, angel, wake up.”

  Ty bounded over and started licking every part of Becca he could reach, starting with her fingers.

  Sirens wailed outside the front of the house and an ambulance screeched to a halt on the tar, closely followed by a red fire truck.

  I checked Becca’s vitals, heaving a sigh at the soft patter of her pulse against my fingertips. “Over here,” I yelled. “Help!”

  * * *

  “You’re extremely lucky, miss,” one of the firefighters said, standing next to the ambulance. “Another minute and the house would’ve been razed to the ground.”

  Becca sat, blinking blearily on the back of her truck, her face still marked up and her hair sticking to her forehead. She held Ty to her chest and nodded slowly. “Thanks,” she croaked. “Glad you made it here in time.”

  The firefighter tipped an imaginary cap then walked back toward the house.

  “Don’t talk,” I said and stepped closer, placing my hand on her shoulder as the medic proceeded to check her out—something I would’ve been happy to do myself had they fucking let me. “You need rest and relaxation. You’re in a state of shock.” She touched my hand with hers, and warmth spread through me.

  She’d already thanked me for coming in after her, tears in her reddened eyes, but the fact she was alive and fucking breathing clean air was thanks enough. For a second there, I’d been convinced that I’d lost her.

  The woman who’d brightened all of my days. I tightened my grip on her shoulder, not so much squeezing but pressing lightly, proving to myself that she was there, and safe. She stroked my fingers again.

  Becca swallowed heavily, and Ty wriggled closer to her chest, whining. “What about Ty?” she asked, looking to the medic this time. “Will he be OK?”

  “He’ll be fine,” the medic, George, replied. He looked up and met my gaze. “Not too much soot in the nostrils. I’ve taken blood and done a PFT. It looks all clear, but I’m going to prescribe a course of steroids regardless. If there are any complications, she’ll need an X-ray. Worst case scenario, bronchoscopy.”

  “No shit,” I said then clapped the guy on the back. I hadn’t worked closely with him, but he’d responded to enough emergency calls in Stoneport that I knew his name and appreciated his work. “Thanks, George.”

  “It’s what I do,” the guy replied and checked Becca’s eye function again. “It’s a miracle you got out of there without any long-term effects from smoke inhalation. Did you stick close to the floor or something? Doctor Dunn said he found you passed out.”

  “Uh,” Becca broke off and gave a wheezing laugh. “I was on my way out the window, but I couldn’t see. I think I slammed into the top section a little too hard and kinda…knocked myself out.”

  George’s lips turned down at the corners, and he gave a nod. “Huh, that’s probably what saved you, actually. Naturally, you would’ve been in a better state if you’d gotten out in time, but this is a close second. If you have any complications, see a doctor. It’s common to get a chest infection after an experience like this. There are loads of toxic chemicals in common household items—furniture, carpets—which are released when they’re set on fire. Lots of water. Lots of rest.”

  “No signs of concussion?” I asked, itching to take the little flashlight from him and check everything myself. Every inch of her. Christ, I’d nearly fucking lost her back there.

  “Nope. Very lucky. Just a bump on the side of the head.” The medic touched a finger to the spot he’d indicated, and Becca winced. “A little tender. I’ll add pain pills to that.”

  “But I don’t need a hospital?” Becca asked, still sounding like she’d been a smoker for the past sixty years.

  “Not unless you want to go to one for a second opinion,” George said.

  “No, thank you. What I really want to do is see the damage to the house.”

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” George said. “You’re already in a state of shock.”

  Becca rose, ignoring him, and I took Ty from her. He was a total attention whore, not at all injured and more interested in being cradled like a baby than anything else. He licked my face, and I forgave him all his sins instantly.

  I took Becca’s hand and helped her away from the ambulance and toward the front of the house. The fire was out, and the firemen traipsed out of the place, looking as tired as I felt. One of them stopped near the front gate and spoke to a policeman in hushed tones.

  The cop, Hayden, looked up as we approached.

  “Doctor Dunn,” he said and gave me a respectful nod. “Nice to see you again.”

  “Officer Combes. How’s the leg?”

  “Better, thanks to you. Doing well.” He cut off and looked over at Becca, ignoring the fact that our hands were intertwined, focusing on her face instead. “Ma’am, you’re the owner of this house?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “I’m Rebecca Starr.”

  “I’m afraid we’re going to have to call an investigator out here to take a look at the remains.”

  “Remains?”

  “Of the kitchen,” Hayden continued, sweeping his cap off his head and running his fingers through close-cropped black hair. “The firefighters couldn’t immediately ascertain what started the fire. In these cases, it’s usually some kind of cooking appliance, like a fryer or a pot of oil.”

  “I wasn’t cooking anything,” she said.

  “Can be faulty wiring too,” Hayden continued. “It’s standard procedure that we call someone out to check, regardless of what they find. I’m going to suggest that you stay with someone you trust for the time being. That or get a hotel. The upstairs section of the house is fine, thankfully.”

  “And the rest of it?” Becca squeezed my hand. Fuck, this sucked. She’d been so set on fixing up her grandparents’ place. This was the worst thing that could’ve happened to it.

  “There’s significant damage to the kitchen, the front hall, and the base of the stairs. You’ll need to have someone look at that after the investigation is complete. You have insurance, yeah?”

  “Yeah,” she croaked.

  “Then it shouldn’t be too much of a problem.” Hayden looked back over his shoulder. “I can ask one of our female officers to escort you inside to pick up some clothes, if you’d like?”

  “That would be great, thank you,” Becca said.

  Hayden whistled at a colleague, who consequently escorted Becca into the house. The smoke had stopped, but it looked so desolate, the front door lying flat in the hall, the one railing of the stairs blackened from the fire.

  “Christ,” I muttered. “Christ.”

  “Mason,” Hayden said, spearing me with a look. “You’re with Miss Starr, right? You’re together?”

  “Man, I don’t see how that’s relevant right now.”

  Hayden put his hat back on his head and stepped closer, adjusting his belt as he did. “I’m off the record here, but I’m not happy about this scenario, man. There’s something weird going on.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s not strictly my place to say, but I’ve got a bad feeling about it. Only telling you because I consider you a friend. That fire didn’t start itself, and when I spoke to Rebecca earlier, she mentioned that she couldn’t get out the front door. She was locked in and couldn’t find her keys. Back door was open, though.”

  My insides froze, and I honed in on Hayden’s meaning. “You’re saying someone set the fire and locked her in there.”

  “I can’t officially say that, man, but I’m just telling you I’v
e got a bad feeling about this. I don’t think it’s a good idea for her to stay at some motel tonight.”

  “Thanks,” I said and patted him on the shoulder, just as Becca appeared at the front door with her escort officer in tow.

  She was pale, clutching a bag to her chest and shaking her head. She picked across the lawn and over to us. I took her hand again and held it fast. “You all right?”

  “Not really,” she said. “It’s just so… It’s fucked up, that’s all.”

  “I understand.”

  We thanked the cops and bid them goodbye after Hayden gave us the final details. The inspector would come through in the morning. They’d cordon the place off tonight so that no one could go in or out, and hopefully after that, we’d know exactly what had happened and why.

  I led Rebecca down the street, holding Ty in one arm. “Come on. I’ve got enough space for the both of us.”

  “Wait,” Becca said, stalling. “I—I don’t want to put you out, Mason. You’ve done so much for me already. Maybe it would be simpler if I just got a hotel room for the night. I’ll drive out and spend some time resting.”

  “You can rest right here,” I said and gestured up to the house. “And Ty can too.”

  “If you’re sure.”

  “Of course I am,” I replied. “I’m not letting you spend the night alone after what you just went through. Besides, we’ve got a date tonight, remember?”

  She smiled, and it lit up her entire face.

  I led her up the path to my porch, my thoughts on nothing but keeping her safe. I’d left the front door open on my way over to her, and we stepped through it and into the hall. Boxes were scattered across it, some of them still half-unpacked from how I’d left them when I’d run over.

  Christ, I’d totally forgotten this. I’d been in the process of cleaning up when I’d gone over. The fact that she didn’t know I’d changed my mind on leaving because of her was…

  “Mason?” Rebecca had stalled a step through the front door. “What are these boxes doing here? Are you—moving out?”