“Fuck!” I slammed my hand on my desk and furiously tapped my keyboard. “What happened?”
Do they turn the lights off at night—no? That doesn’t make sense.
There was enough light coming in through the windows that I wasn’t trapped in pitch black, but it was still dark. I reached for my cell phone and didn’t find it where I thought I left it on the desk beside me. I quickly felt around and couldn’t find it anywhere. I even opened my desk drawers to feel around, but it was nowhere to be found. I checked my desk phone and was not surprised to find that it was dead since the power was out. I started looking for my phone again, even feeling around on the floor with my feet to make sure I didn’t drop it. It was clear that I wasn’t going to find it in the dark, so I grabbed my purse to head for the exit. I couldn’t work if the lights were out and I definitely couldn’t work without my computer. Luckily, I had Mr. Smith’s business card in my purse which had his cell phone number, so if I could just find a working phone, I could let him know what was going on.
The elevator is obviously out, so—stairs it is.
“What the hell?” I got to the door that opened to the stairs, but when I pushed on it, I found that it was locked.
I was annoyed, especially since I remembered Mr. Dunkirk using the door when he left—but maybe not. He left through the other door. I carefully walked across the office in the dark until I got to the other side of the building and when I tried to open that door, it was locked too. A bit of panic started to creep up inside me. There was no way both doors could be locked by accident. Mr. Dunkirk definitely left through one of them. As I stood there trying to figure out how I was going to leave, I saw something else—an orange glow in the staircase. It took me a couple of seconds to process it, but then I realized exactly what I was seeing. It was a fire! The panic turned to intense terror. I was locked inside Dunkirk Accounting and the building was on fire. Not only that—Mr. Dunkirk had locked me inside.
“Oh my god. He’s not giving me a promotion. He’s trying to kill me!” I slammed my hands into the door several times, but it didn’t budge. “Help!”
Okay, screaming is stupid. Nobody is going to hear me.
I walked in a circle as I tried to figure out what I could do. I ran to the windows and looked outside. It was far too high to jump so that was out of the question. It would take time for the fire to get to me—hopefully someone would see it and call the fire department. I watched the street, just waiting to see lights—anything. Someone had to drive by and see the fire. A car started approaching and I tried to pound on the window and wave my arms, hoping they would see me, but they drove by without slowing down. A few minutes later, I started smelling smoke. The fire was spreading. I had no idea how long it would take to get to me. I ran over to the office area and started checking phones, looking around in the darkness for anything I could use to communicate with the outside world, but it was futile.
Mr. Dunkirk must have taken my phone. That son of a bitch.
The smoke started to get thicker. I was sure it was in my head, but it felt like the building was getting hotter. The fire shouldn’t have been able to spread that fast. Suddenly, there was an explosion of some sort and the floor trembled. That wasn’t in my head. The fire was definitely spreading and something was making it accelerate faster than it should have. I had to break out a window. I couldn’t let the smoke fill the floor or I would pass out before the fire ever made it to me. I wished Jett and Rand were there. They would know what to do. I ran over and grabbed one of the office chairs. It was heavy, and even though I threw it with all my might, it just bounced off the glass. I ran around the office trying to find something heavy—anything I could throw at the window. It wasn’t easy in the dark, and everything I found just bounced right off.
The smoke is getting too thick—I really am going to die in this freaking building.
Chapter Twenty-One
Rand
“Break down the fucking door!” I pointed at the door and a team of firefighters hit it with everything they had.
“It’s not budging.” One of them turned to me and shook his head.
“Then I’ll go through the mother fucking window.” Jett pulled out his ax and slammed the blade into the window next to the door, but it popped back so violently it nearly caught him in the face.
“Shatterproof glass? On a building like this? Son of a bitch!” I kicked the door hard and glared at the impenetrable wall in front of us. “Where is the window punch?”
“I’ll get it.” One of the firefighters turned and started sprinting towards the truck.
“Hold on, I got an idea. Rand, come here.” Jett motioned for me to come over to the window. “Let’s take turns—point of the ax, right in the corner.”
Jett demonstrated and focused all of his effort on the corner. I hit the same spot and then he hit it again. It took a half dozen hits before the glass started to break, but we had progress. We picked up the pace, one after another—driving the hard point of our ax into the shatterproof prison. Once we had enough of a hole to grip the glass, we used our combined strength to tear the glass out of the metal frame that was holding it. We pushed through the opening and secured our masks. The building was made out of steel, so it wasn’t in danger of collapsing, but the fire was everywhere. I didn’t know if Brylee was inside, but she still wasn’t answering her phone, so I had to assume that was the case, especially after finding out that her coworker had met the same fate.
“There’s nothing down here that we can save, let’s go up the stairs,” I yelled over the roar and motioned to Jett.
I really hope Brylee wasn’t on the bottom floor.
We took the building one floor at a time as the other firefighters finally punched through the glass and joined us. The fire had swept up the stairs, but that part was already burned out. The worst of it was spreading up through the ceiling and the building was full of office supplies that just created more fuel for the blaze. I could already tell that the fire had been set intentionally. There was no way the building went up that quick without some sort of accelerant. My heart dropped in my chest when we turned the corner and I saw a floor that was nearly engulfed in flames. We were several floors up already and that fire had to be independent of the one downstairs. There was a huge hole in the middle of the floor that looked like some sort of explosive had been ignited. If anyone was on that floor, they didn’t survive. I motioned for Jett to follow me again and ran up the next flight of stairs.
“This fucking door is locked.” I slammed my hand against the metal and tried to peer through the window.
“Why the hell would this door be locked? Oh my god!” Jett ran into the door with his shoulder. “Fuck—ow!”
“They would only lock if they were trying to keep someone inside.” I pulled out my ax and started trying to break off the handle.
The fire had already spread to that level and it burning out of control. The smoke was so thick I couldn’t see. I knew Jett was right. There was no reason to lock a door in the building unless they were trying to keep someone inside. If Brylee was in the building, that was where she had to be. We hammered the lock with our ax as other firefighters joined to assist. Several others ran up the stairs to check the next floor. When the lock finally broke, I nearly ripped the door off the hinges to get inside with Jett on my heels. I saw something—in the smoke. It was an outline of a person laying on the floor. I ran towards them and dropped to my knees when I saw Brylee’s face. She was in bad shape. I didn’t think she had been burned, but she wasn’t conscious. Jett leaned down to scoop her up while I cradled her head.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here.” I motioned toward the door.
We ran down the stairs as fast as we could. The front door was finally open and they had the hose aimed at the fire. I cleared the way as Jett followed and as soon as we were outside, I ran to the paramedics. My mask and helmet went flying as I yelled for them to help. A team rushed over to Jett with a stretcher and he gently
put Brylee down. She was in bad shape and it didn’t look like she was breathing. The sight of her laying there on the stretcher made me want to break down and sob. The paramedics worked on her for nearly ten minutes while Jett and I stood next to them. I knew her chances weren’t good. I didn’t want to accept it, but I had been a firefighter long enough to see when the grim reaper was sharpening his blade.
“We can’t lose her.” Jett grabbed the front of my jacket and I saw tears forming in the corner of his eyes. “We just can’t!”
“Pray with me.” I grabbed Jett around his neck and pulled him close to my chest. “Just like Mom used to do. Come on, bro. If there’s anyone up there, we need them right now.”
I hadn’t prayed since I was a kid. I hardly even remember how. I just closed my eyes and said everything I could think of, hoping that some sort of divine miracle would bring Brylee back to us. I didn’t care if the whole world saw us standing there in the middle of the parking lot sobbing like children. Brylee meant everything to me. That much was crystal clear. The thought of losing her ripped my soul out of my chest, tore my heart into a million pieces, and left me with no emotion except sorrow. I don’t know how long we held onto each other, but we didn’t let go until one of the paramedics grabbed my arm.
“She’s breathing! We need to get her to the hospital—now.” He motioned towards the ambulance.
“We’re going with you.” I threw off my jacket and Jett did the same.
We climbed into the ambulance and sat beside Brylee. Each of us took a hand and squeezed, just hoping she would squeeze back. Her chest moved slowly, and only when one of the paramedics pumped oxygen into her lungs. I put my hand on her chest and I could feel a heartbeat. She wasn’t gone—not yet. There was still a chance that we could save her. If I had a timeline for how long she had been trapped in the carbon monoxide hell, I would have been able to work out the odds, but I knew they were low. Even if she opened her eyes, she could have brain damage—she might not even know us. No matter what happened, if those beautiful eyes opened again, I was going to spend the rest of my life making sure they never reflected an ounce of pain as long as she drew breath.
“She’s going to be okay.” Jett looked up at me. “She’s a fighter.”
“I know, but—fuck.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “I know.”
The hospital was chaotic when we arrived. A couple of nurses met us at the door and took Brylee into the emergency room. Time passed in agonizing minutes as we waited for some sort of news. A doctor finally walked out and brought us back into the emergency area. He was optimistic about her chances of survival but wasn’t sure how bad it truly was. The best course of treatment was to administer hyperbaric oxygen therapy which would allow her to breathe oxygen in a room with heavy air pressure. That told me enough to know the situation was dire. They didn’t put anyone in the hyperbaric oxygen chamber unless they had severe carbon monoxide poisoning. Once the doctor gave us the news, we went back to the waiting area and sat down. We had a long night ahead of us, and it was going to be filled with more turmoil than either of us had ever experienced before.
The next day
We fueled up on coffee once the adrenaline wore off. The hospital staff was kind and gave us updates almost hourly. Jett called the apartment complex and got the number for Brylee’s parents from the application she filled out. He nearly broke down in tears when he had to tell her parents that their daughter was in the hospital fighting for her life. I had no idea how we were going to explain why we cared so much when they arrived, but I really didn’t care at that point. They needed to be there because she needed as much love as the world could pull together for her. Brylee’s progress was promising. I nearly did a backflip when the nurse told me that she opened her eyes and appeared to be responsive to light. They decided to administer a sedative to keep her under for more oxygen therapy, but she didn’t need a ventilator. She was breathing on her own. That was practically a miracle.
“Excuse me, Jett?” A woman walked up to us.
“You must be Brylee’s mom.” A faint smile formed on Jett’s face when he turned around.
“I’m guessing you’re her father?” I extended my hand to the man beside her. “My name is Rand.”
“You two—are twins.” Brylee’s father lifted his eyebrows in surprise.
“Yes, sir.” I nodded.
“The nurse just filled us in.” Her father shook my hand and I saw him fighting back tears.
We sat down together and I told them how their daughter ended up in the emergency room. It was against protocol to release all of the information, but I wasn’t going to hold back anything that pertained to their daughter. They deserved to know the truth. I told them about Dana, the issue that Brylee found on the accounts at work, and my theory—that someone associated with Dunkirk Accounting had tried to kill Brylee like they did her coworker. I had no way to substantiate that theory, but it seemed like the most plausible one since the fire was intentionally set and the door to her floor was locked. By the time I finished telling them everything, Brylee’s parents were both pale.
“I didn’t want her to leave Cedar Grove.” Brylee’s mom turned to her father. “I told you she needed to find a job close to home.”
“I regret telling you that you were right.” Brylee’s father looked down and shook his head.
We didn’t mention anything about our relationship with Brylee, and her parents didn’t ask. They had to know we were more than friends because we couldn’t hide our emotions each time the doctor came out to give us an update. It was a roller coaster of turmoil mixed with joy as the prognosis kept getting better. It was late in the day before they finally told us that she was awake, talking, and apparently asking for us by name. That was an incredibly good sign. It would be a few more hours before we could actually see her, but they were moving her to a regular room once the doctor confirmed she didn’t need any additional time in the oxygen therapy chamber. As much as I wanted to rush to her side, I knew her parents needed to be the first ones through the doors once she was able to have visitors.
It looks like I’m going to get to stare into those beautiful eyes again.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Brylee
“There should be two guys out there—somewhere—waiting to see me. You can’t miss them. They’re firefighters and they’re twins.” I looked at the nurse and pleaded for her assistance.
“Brylee, you’re lucky to be alive right now. You have to wait until the doctor clears you.” The nurse patted my hand. “Besides, your parents are here and I think they’re going to let the family in first.”
“My parents are here?” My head fell back against the pillow. “I’m going to get an earful from my mother.”
“You should just worry about getting better right now. I’m sure they’re going to be happy to see that you’re still alive. Trust me, that wasn’t a certainty last night. You’ve made an incredible recovery.” The nurse patted my hand again.
“Nurse Grant is right.” An older man with a white coat walked into my room. “I’m Dr. Stevenson. Let me check a few of your vitals and if everything checks out, I’ll send you to a regular room.”
“When can I go home?” I lifted my head slightly to look at him.
“We’re going to keep you for a couple of days.” He sat down on the edge of the bed and took my wrist in his hand.
I lay there in the bed as Dr. Stevenson checked my vitals and prayed that he would clear me. The oxygen chamber had been horrible, and I felt like I was in a bubble the whole time when I was awake. I didn’t want to have to spend another minute in there if I didn’t have to. I was happy when he said everything was fine and told the nurse to prepare a regular room for me. The events of the previous night were still rather foggy. It felt like I had plowed through more liquor in one evening than I had ever seen in my life, and somehow lived to wake up the next morning. Memories came back in patches, and each one was terrifying. My lungs hurt and my head was heavy, but they had
given me some medicine that took away most of the pain.
A couple of hours later
My reunion with my parents was rather bittersweet. After a few hugs, my mother insisted that I move back to Cedar Grove and for once, my father was on her side. I tried to explain what happened, but my voice was hoarse and it didn’t feel good to talk for long periods of time. I definitely couldn’t talk long enough to relay everything, but they seemed to already know a lot of it thanks to Jett and Rand. My parents told me that Jett and Rand were the ones who pulled me out of the fire. I should have known it would be them, and hearing that made me even more anxious to see the two firefighters that literally saved my life. My parents finally agreed to give me a few minutes with them but promised they would be back in a few minutes. They walked out of my room and a few minutes later, Jett and Rand arrived.
“You gave us such a fucking scare.” Jett walked over and took my hand.
“I’m sorry.” I lifted up and hugged him. “I didn’t know my boss was a psychopath.”
“We’ll have to fill you in on a few details after you get some of your strength back.” Rand hugged me as soon as Jett let go.
Quiver & Burn: A MFM Firefighter Romance (Surrender to Them Book 5) Page 15