by Myra Scott
And then suddenly, I flashed back.
Back to that burning bungalow. To the scratchy ache of smoke in my lungs, choking me and blinding my eyes. To the wails and whimpers of a trapped, terrified little girl. Screaming for her life. Screaming for me to save her.
I shook my head, trying to throw off the memory. I needed to focus. I had to be in the moment. Luke needed me. I couldn’t get pulled backward. I had to be here, right now. I could feel my legs getting heavy, my body getting weaker as I breathed in the toxic smog.
“Luke,” I managed to choke out. “Luke!”
There was no answer but the silence and the crackling fire. I fell to my hands and knees, crawling along the filthy floor in search of a body. I squinted, my eyes burning. I wanted to close them, but I couldn’t. I could not risk missing a glimpse of Luke. He was here somewhere. I just knew it. It occurred to me, somewhat distantly, that perhaps he had gotten out with the rest of them and I had just missed it. But my heart, my instincts, told me differently. That guiding force within me pushed me to keep looking.
Finally, my hands collided with something soft—a face in the darkness. My heart skipped a beat. I grabbed for the body and yanked it close to my chest, cradling the head to my heart. Through the tears stinging in my eyes, I could just barely make out the curve of Luke’s lips. It was him, and he was out. Out cold.
Very cold. Despite the heat radiating through the room.
I had to get him out of here. Holding him up with one powerful arm, I began to crawl back away from the stage. I was weak now from breathing in fumes, and a dark voice in my head reminded me that I had a long, long way to go. That I was not moving fast enough. I was doing everything in my power, but it was not enough. I could feel my head getting heavy, my eyes closing as I struggled to breathe in the thick smoke. I moved on my hand and knees, refusing to give up, refusing to leave Luke behind to be consumed by fire. I pushed on for as long as I could, my mind playing and replaying the same scene over and over again like a movie reel.
Flash of light. Coughing. Screams. The searing pain in my cheek.
Flash of light. Coughing. Screams. The searing pain…
From the darkness emerged some larger shapes—men in full firefighter regalia, reaching through the smoke with both hands. I could no longer even tell if I was awake or not, cradling Luke to my chest desperately. And then as the hands reached down to grab me, it went dark.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN - LUKE
Fire and smoke was all around me with no exit in sight.
I wondered if this was what hell felt like.
Breathing did not come easily to me. It was like that state of nightmare paralysis where you know you should be able to breathe, but nothing seems to work for you—your body is stiff and locked up, and all you know is that you desperately have to move…
But I could not. It was all white noise and chaos, and no hope for getting free. I felt a tear rolling down my cheek.
And the next second, I breathed in sterile hospital air, and my eyes flew open.
I heard the soft, steady beeping of a monitor, and everything in my body ached. I felt like I had been stiff and still for years, and the lights above me nearly blinded me for a while. I stayed still, trying to process whether or not this was all happening or if this was some strange vision I was having at the end of my life.
Memories came to me slowly, piece by piece.
Casey came to mind first.
I remembered his lips pressed against mine...but where were we? We had been sitting at a planter near the wall.
The next second, my heart plummeted as I remembered what happened next.
The boom. The flare. The screams. My vision going dark.
I flexed my hand, making as much of a fist as I could. I felt my fingers touch my palm, but it was no fist. I almost wanted to laugh. All the muscle mass in the world couldn’t resist the power of anesthesia wearing off, or whatever was happening to inhibit me.
I blinked.
As soon as my eyelids shut, I felt like I could drift off into sleep again, but I fought to stay awake. I didn’t know why, but I felt like I had to. The cool AC blew gently on my face, and I felt wetness running down my cheek—I realized the tears had been real.
I turned my eyes down from the ceiling, and I saw four people I recognized sitting around the clean hospital room.
Three of them were further away from me, and although my vision had not cleared up completely yet, I could tell they were sleeping in uncomfortable chairs. And by their builds, I could tell they were Gage, Bart, and Zane. A smile tugged at my lips, mostly because that told me they were alright—or at least, they were alright enough that they weren’t in hospital beds beside me.
I turned my head to the side to look at the man sitting closest to me, realizing whoever it was had his eyes steadily on me.
It only took me a second to realize I was looking at Mick, and when he saw me move my head, a smile crossed his face.
“Hey there,” he said, sitting forward and speaking softly. “Take it easy, you’re only just waking up. How do you feel?”
“Like I passed out in a fire,” I said, and my voice came out thick and scratchy.
Mick didn’t find that as amusing as I did, and that made me smile a little more. Finally, he cracked a grin and shook his head.
My memories were still foggy, just one big gray cloud swirling around in my head giving me bits and pieces. But in one singular moment, everything solidified and came rushing back to me.
Casey.
I sat bolt upright in the bed with my eyes wide, looking around wildly, and Mick stood up beside me to move forward and put a hand on my shoulder with eyes almost as big as mine.
“Woah, hold on there, you’re still—”
“Casey!” I croaked, looking around the room with a wild gaze. “Where’s Casey? Mick, tell me he got out of there.” I looked at Mick with deadly seriousness, and he put his other hand on my shoulder, almost pushing me back down to the bed as he nodded.
“Casey is fine, Luke,” he said, and those four words sounded sweeter than cool water in a desert. I took a deep breath and laid my head back as Mick went on. “He’s just down the hall, getting treated for his own injuries. He got some burns and hurt his leg, but he’s not in critical condition by any stretch of the imagination. He’ll be fine, just like you.”
Around the room, I watched the others stirring. My outburst had served as an alarm clock for them, apparently. Gage was the first to sit upright around the same time that I had, and he quickly got to his feet and came over to me with a big smile on his face. Zane was next, a little slower to get up, and Bart was last, still blinking his eyes groggily when the other two had come to surround my bed.
“Oh, thank god,” Gage said. “Luke, do you remember what happened?”
“I’ll get the nurse and let her know he’s awake,” Bart said, giving me a gruff smile. “You’ve got all the guys hovering around you that you need. Glad to see you awake though, my man.”
I gave Bart a tired thumbs-up as he left, then turned my attention back to the others.
“Yeah,” I said, finally bringing a hand up to my face to rub my eyes. The wires I had hooked up to me took me by surprise, and I had to resist the impulse to pull them off my chest and finger. “I mean, most of it, at least. I remember...the taste of tequila.”
“Yeah, that’ll ruin most people’s nights,” Zane said with a grin, and Gage chuckled with him while Mick watched me steadily.
“After that, Casey went to go get us more drinks, because he didn’t care much about the pyrotechnics,” I said, my brain throbbing. “Then I remember watching the fire billow up, and I rushed to the front of the crowd to try to help get people safe, and then...I think I fell,” was all I could say, because honestly, after racing up to the front, I couldn’t remember much else. It all faded into fog.
“Casey
dragged you out of there and saved your life, Luke,” Mick said firmly. “In fact, he saved a lot of lives up there. I don’t know what the odds are that we had a trained fireman in the crowd, but it made all the difference in the world.”
“Oh my god,” I breathed, looking back up at the ceiling, and my head started swimming. Casey had finally let me coax him out of his house; and instead of a good time, he got an absolute nightmare.
Fuck, why did it have to work out this way?
“Was anyone seriously injured?” I asked next, looking up at everyone with concern. I wanted to ask if anyone had been killed, but something in me felt like voicing that out loud would make it come true.
“No,” Zane said quickly and firmly, ripping the Band-Aid off, and I felt tension in the room relax like a gentle breeze. “Nobody more seriously than Casey, at least. There are a few more people here in your condition, but no deaths, no serious burns. Our security team got everything under control as fast as humanly possible. And in fact, your attention to detail in making sure the fire exits were clear and accessible made things go as well as they did, Luke.”
“Yes,” Mick agreed with a solid nod. “I cannot tell you how grateful we and our lawyers are that you did your homework so thoroughly on this.”
“And make no mistake, the fundraiser was still a success,” Zane said, but I could see that he was forcing the smile on his face. “We hit our goal, despite the catastrophe—”
“But,” Mick said, the one among them who never shied away from bringing bad news, “a catastrophe is a catastrophe—we did have several donors pull out. We’re in the middle of trying to keep a lid on the PR and keep things from getting out of hand.”
“Well then, I can do you one last solid in that regard,” I said calmly yet firmly, looking Zane in the eye. “I resign, effective immediately.”
“The hell you do!” Zane said sharply, stepping forward and putting his hands on his hips.
“No, I mean it,” I insisted. My voice was even, despite the hurricane of emotions in my chest. “I organized things last night, and both on paper and in practice, I bear responsibility. This is my mess, and it will look good to the press to see me stepping down for what happened. It’s only right.”
“I second that rejection of your resignation,” came Bart’s voice from the doorway as he stormed back in, a mousy nurse hurrying in behind him. “And yeah, that’s the fanciest sentence I’ve said all week. But you’re too valuable to us. This is a massive setback, don’t get me wrong, but you aren’t going to back out of it. Things didn’t work out, but that just means you have to work hard to fix it,” Bart says gruffly.
“I agree,” Mick said. “And I say that as someone who would be trying to do the same thing as you if I were in your shoes, Luke, because we’re similar in a lot of ways,” he added, “but you’ve been instrumental in handling PR up to this point. We’re going to need you in the coming weeks to make sure that this doesn’t become more of a disaster than it needs to be. And besides, I shouldn’t have to add that I was the one who insisted on handling things on the ground level that night—so if you have responsibility, then I share it right there with you.”
“Not on paper,” I pointed out.
“You’re not going to win this one, Luke,” Gage pointed out, crossing his arms. “Face it, you’re not resigning. You’re an essential part of this little brotherhood we’ve got going on, and we’re all in this together. We have each other’s backs. Do you have ours?”
I took a deep breath and glared at each and every one of them.
It was almost funny. In business school, I was taught to expect the exact opposite of every single thing that was happening in the hospital room.
There were a lot of things they taught me in business school that didn’t work out in reality. And most of the time, that was for the better.
I gave the group of men a gruff smile, pushing myself up as much as I could. Immediately, the nurse was at the bedside, hovering over me and making sure I hadn’t messed up any of the hookups.
“Fine,” I said, “I won’t put up a fight on this one. But only because it means I can pull the Sentry out of this mess.”
The guys gave me smiles and firm nods, and the nurse started to run through some routine questions with me, making sure I had all my faculties and all my levels were normal.
When she finished, she started ticking off boxes on her chart.
“Great, Mr. Reynolds, it looks like you’re in about as good a condition as you could hope for after what you went through,” she said with a bright smile. “We should have you out of here by the end of the day.”
“Thanks,” I said. “But what about Casey, one of the patients down the hall?”
“Room 409,” Mick added.
“Big blond guy,” I said, and the nurse gave a quick nod.
“He isn’t awake yet,” she explained calmly, and I felt my heart sinking and worry beginning to well up inside me. I couldn’t live with myself if Casey suffered permanent damage because of last night.
“Can I go see him?” I said, starting to sit up, but she put a small hand on my shoulder and shook her head.
“Not yet, Mr. Reynolds, but as soon as he wakes up—probably in a few hours—I’ll check in with both of you and make sure you have a chance to come talk to him.”
“Thank you,” I said, relaxing again, but I knew I wouldn’t be totally relaxed until I could see Casey with my own two eyes. The nurse left, and then, it was just me and the guys.
“So, what happens next?” I asked Mick. “Assuming Casey and I leave the hospital soon, I mean.”
“We’ve already launched an investigation into the technical side of things last night,” Mick said, and Zane nodded.
“That ball got rolling about as soon as the fires were out. In fact, Casey can probably explain it better than any of us, but we’re having experts look into the machinery of the pyrotechnics equipment and find out exactly what went wrong and who’s to blame.”
“So, no big deal, just waiting for a very important verdict while our hands are tied behind our backs,” Bart said brightly, chuckling.
“Yeah, no big,” Zane agreed sarcastically, rolling his eyes.
I nodded, but even though I knew our asses were on the line, my mind was locked on one thing and one thing alone.
I needed to see Casey.
I needed to make this right.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN - CASEY
I was cold, and my back ached like hell. I could feel every nerve in my body urging me to slow down, to collapse into the ashes and rest. But I knew instinctively that if I were to give in to the overwhelming temptation to sleep, I might never wake up again.
This place was so empty, so bereft of life besides me. And that made me wonder… maybe I wasn’t a sign of life. Maybe I was just another fixture of this lifeless plane, wandering around too stubborn and oblivious to know I was gone. It sure seemed like I was meant to let go. But something inside of me flickered like a tiny flame, keeping my soul just warm enough to stay vigilant. To stay awake. No matter how far I trudged, how thick the muck around my knees got, I had to keep moving forward. Towards what? I didn’t have a clue. Perhaps it would always just be more of the same: that blank canvas I was stuck inside. I was lost. I didn’t have a compass or a map, and there was no sun or moon in the sky to help orientate me in the least. Just the whiteness, the emptiness, the silence, and me.
As I walked along, my memories stretched backward behind me to grasp at something, anything to remind me why I was still keeping upright. Something to fight for. Something to believe in. Something to make the struggle worthwhile.
Sometimes all I could think of was the desire to keep helping people. To come to my senses and step back into the real world; where I could run into burning buildings; I could rescue little animals trapped in dangerous predicaments. I could keep baking for my
coworkers, keep shaping wood into furniture and carvings. More than that, a desire to love stoked that tiny, struggling flame inside of me, urging me to carry on. It was too soon to give up. My life was not even half over, and there was so much left for me to do.
I had a heart, a beating heart filled with potential and adoration, and it was too early on in the game to toss it away. I had a mother who loved me, who worried over me. I had a father, however distant, who undoubtedly cared whether I lived or died. Chief Reyes, my boss who was more like a doting uncle, a mentor as I grew up and became a man in my right. He would be crushed to lose me. Even my therapist, Dr. Waltham, appeared in my memories to beckon me onward, cheerleading me along as I waded through the mire, desperate to find my way back home. There was too much to do, too many people still to love and protect. I could not leave all of that behind just yet, no matter how hard it was to keep moving.
A face swam at the forefront of my mind, the handsome face of a man I could have sworn came straight from my wildest dreams and fantasies.
Luke.
That charming smile. Those bright green eyes. The sharp curves and angles of his face, that powerful jaw that seemed to have been carved from the smoothest marble by the hands of the ancient masters. His voice, deep and thrumming like a bass guitar, sending shivers of delight down my spine. The comforting warmth of his touch, like standing in direct sunlight. He was more than I could ever have asked for, and I would be damned before I let him slip out of my grasp so easily.
His voice punched through the blank expanse like a knife, jolting me closer to awake. At first, I couldn’t make out the word he was saying. Two syllables. Yearning and fear. Pleading with me, with something bigger and worse than us both.
My name.
Casey.
Casey.
“Casey,” came a soft, desperate voice from off to my left. The whiteness faded to dark and suddenly I became intensely aware of a variety of things. The beeping of a machine, quickening along with my heart beat. The acrid smell of bleach and cleaner, that slightly sickly smell that lingered in the halls of… a hospital.