Chapter 22
"Avery, wait!" Jonah is already moving when I shove the blankets off and swing my legs over the side of the bed, my feet hitting the floor before my brain catches up.
The room is still dark and I grab for my jeans off the chair, stepping into them as I stand, my balance off just enough that I have to steady myself against the dresser.
"There's a fire," he says, trying to keep his voice calm, but nothing about the way he says it or the look on his face is going to stop me from leaving this room. I feel the words land before I fully process them, something in my chest tightening like it already knows where this is going.
"Where?" I pull a shirt over my head, my voice flat and wrong, not a question even as I say it.
He closes the distance in two strides and plants himself in front of me, hands up, not touching me but close enough that I stop because there is nowhere else to go. "Listen to me."
"Where is it?!" I reach past him for my keys on the nightstand and miss them the first time.
He watches me for a beat that stretches too long. "Callum's Surfside Drive warehouse."
I go still with his name in my throat and it refuses to come out. The floor seems to tilt and then it settles, and I press my palm to the dresser until it steadies under me.
"He went out," I say, and I hear how flat it sounds. "But didn't tell me."
Jonah shifts his weight and blocks my path again. "Avery, listen to me."
"Where is he?" I ask, already reaching for my keys and getting them on the second try. The metal is cold and loud in my hand.
"You don't want to be there," he says. His voice stays level, but his eyes are not. "These scenes don't end the way you think they will."
I shove past Jonah, shoulder catching his chest as I push through, my grip tightening around my keys as I move for the door.
He exhales once through his nose and rubs a hand over the back of his neck like he's trying to reset himself. "He may be inside. There were people inside."
That lands in my chest and spreads. I pull open the top drawer before remembering I’m at Callum’s place, then shut it harder than I mean to and grab my sweater off the chair.
"Avery."
"I'm going." I step around him and keep moving, dragging the zipper up with one hand while I head for the door. "You can lecture me in the parking lot if it makes you feel better, but I’m not standing in this room."
He catches the door before it hits the frame. "At least slow down and think."
"I am thinking. Unfortunately it’s all terrible." I don't look back at him because if I do I'll see exactly what he's asking me to understand and I won't go. I open the door and the hallway light hits my eyes. "I'm thinking I'm already late."
Something shifts across Jonah’s face at that, quick and unguarded before he locks it back down again. His hand tightens once on the edge of the door.
There's a beat where neither of us moves, and then his boots hit the floor behind me and he follows.
"Avery, slow down," Jonah says as I press the gas a little harder than I mean to and the engine climbs.
"I grew up here too, remember?" I say, and I check the clock without meaning to. It's 2:18, then ticks to 2:19. I hold it there with my eyes for a second too long before I look back at the road.
He braces a hand on the dash anyway. "I didn’t say you didn’t. I said slow down."
I ease off the gas for half a second before pressing back into it as the road opens.
The streets are empty enough that the tires sound loud against the asphalt. I flick my blinker on and off as I blow through a stop sign.
Ahead, the sky is wrong. Orange pushes up in the direction of the harbor under the dark like something lit from below. I glance at it and then back to the lane lines.
"You see that?" he asks quietly.
I nod, adjusting my grip on the wheel and forcing my shoulders down from where they’ve climbed. "What are they saying?"
"Just that there was a fire and the Surfside Drive address. I knew it was Callum's building. Nothing more yet," he says, watching his phone. "Units are on scene."
"Don’t filter anything. Just tell me." I check the clock again. 2:20. I drag my focus back to the road and keep the car straight between the lines.
There are two patrol cars blocking the turn onto Surfside before we're close enough to see the building.
I pull over on the shoulder and get out. Jonah is already out on the other side.
"That’s not contained," I say, the words out before I decide to speak, and I step closer to the tape until a firefighter lifts a hand and shakes his head.
"Stay back," he calls, and I stop because my body listens even when the rest of me doesn’t.
Jonah moves up beside me. "Right side’s failing," he says, low, like he’s talking to himself. The wall is bowing out and the lines are wrong.
"That looks extremely bad," I say.
"Yeah," he answers.
I can feel the heat from here, dry and constant, and I wipe my palms on my jeans without looking down. Two engines sit along the far side with hoses snaking across the ground. Water hits the flames in hard, steady bursts that hiss and disappear into steam.
"They’re pulling back," Jonah says.
The crews step away in a pattern that looks practiced and fast at the same time.
A radio crackles near us. Someone shouts for a line to move. Metal grinds somewhere behind the engines, a tool biting into something it can’t quite win against.
"That thing looks one insult away from collapsing," I say, because it looks like it should already be down.
"It will," Jonah says, eyes still on the structure.
The fire moves through the building like it already made up its mind. I stand there with my hands empty and my chest tight, while the building decides what it’s going to take with it.
The line of firefighters step away in unison.
Jonah glances at me. "Stay behind the tape."
I edge a half step closer and feel the heat press against my face.
I drag my sleeve across my mouth and taste smoke.
My breath catches and I force it even, counting in and out.
Two engines. Two lines still running. The perimeter set wide.
Personnel shifting left. The building leaning harder than it should.
"Don’t get ahead of it," Jonah says, low.
"I’m not," I say, and I fix on the details because they are the only things that stay still long enough to use.
Callum is inside. I know it, and something else starts to form behind it and I cut it off.
"Avery," Jonah says.
I wipe my palms on my jeans and reach for my phone, not unlocking it, just holding it like it might do something useful in my hand.
He left without waking me. I picture the empty space beside me and I tighten my grip on the phone until the edges press into my fingers. "He really looked at this situation and thought, yeah, I’ll handle this alone," I say under my breath.
"What?" Jonah asks.
"Nothing," I say, and I shake my head once like I can clear it. The thought comes back anyway. He made the decision to leave and didn’t tell me. He walked toward this, and I feel the anger rise with the fear until I can’t tell which one is louder.
"Avery, don’t disappear on me right now," Jonah says.
"I’m trying." I look back at the building.
"Don’t lock me out," Jonah says quietly as I shift my weight and plant my feet, palms on my jeans.
"I’m not," I say, and I keep my eyes moving. The nozzle. The stream. The hand signal.
He steps in close at my shoulder, not touching, just there. "Watch the wall," he says.
I know he isn't really saying it to me anymore. His eyes stay on the structure, tracking the crews and the movement around it like he's already fallen back into firefighter mode, the part of him that knows where to stand and what to watch when a building starts to fail.
I nod and swallow, tasting smoke.
The right side bows farther than it should. I hear my own breath and then it drops out for a second and comes back. A radio crackles near us and I catch half a call, then lose it. Someone shouts numbers and a direction and I turn my head, trying to place it, then snap back to the wall.
"They’re backing up," I say.
"Yeah," Jonah answers. "Keep your distance."
I take one step back and stop, eyes on the crews as they move in a pattern that looks practiced and fast at the same time. The ground hums under my feet and I press my toes into the dirt like that will hold me in place.
"No. Please don't collapse," I say as my chest pulls tight.
"Right side looks like it's about to come down," he says.
The seam opens. The line shifts. The last two firefighters clear the edge and someone waves them through.
"Clear!" a voice calls from somewhere I can’t see.
The wall tips. For a second I think it might hold and then it doesn’t, and the right side of the building comes down in a rush of noise that hits low and hard, the vibration running up through my shoes and into my legs while the crews fall back another few steps and the radios spike all at once.
"Callum!" The scream rips out of me so hard my throat burns.
The ground jumps. I lurch forward without thinking and Jonah catches me around the waist before I can break for the tape.
"Avery, stop." He locks both arms around me and drags me back against his chest as dust rolls across the lot. "You cannot go in there."
"He was inside!" I shove against his grip, twisting hard enough that my heel slips in the dirt. "Do something!" I choke out at him. "You're a firefighter. Jonah, let me go. Let me go!"
"I've got you," he says, breath rough at my ear. "I've got you."
I can't get enough air. My chest pulls tight and my eyes blur hot before I realize I'm crying. The collapse keeps echoing through the ground under my feet and all I can see is the building coming down where he was supposed to be.
"Callum!" I scream again, my voice breaking this time.
"Listen to me." Jonah turns me enough that I have to look at him. Smoke streaks across his face and his grip tightens on my arms. "Crews were pulling back. They knew it was coming."