Chapter 30
Ethan
He lay on his bed, sheets cool against his bare legs, the faint hum of the phone pressed to his ear. Mark’s voice rolled through, warm and low from Tokyo, 2:30 p.m. there, a world away. His bedroom stretched quietly around him, 9:30 p.m. in Oregon, the glow of his lamp soft against the walls. His chest buzzed, Mark’s sexy tease curling heat through him.
“Can’t wait for you to come home,” he murmured, grinning. “Miss your hands on me already.”
Mark chuckled, voice husky. “Miss yours too. Counting the hours till I’m back in bed with you.”
He laughed, rolling onto his side, voice dropping. “Gonna make it worth the wait. You, me, no clothes.”
Mark groaned, playful and low. “You’re killing me, hero.”
He opened his mouth to reply, but Ranger barked sharp from the floor, ears up, body tense. The fire alarm screeched, piercing the air, and he bolted upright, heart slamming. “What the,” he started, then smelled it, bacon, sharp and smoky, too strong. A scream cut through, his mom’s voice, raw and panicked, from downstairs.
Mark’s tone shifted, urgent. “What’s that? Ethan?”
He swung his legs off the bed, phone clutched tight. “Mom,” he said, already moving to the doorway. Smoke wafted up, stinging his eyes, and her scream came again, louder. “Ethan, go. I’ll call 911.” He hung up, putting the phone in his pocket, and rushed downstairs, Ranger at his heels.
The kitchen blazed, flames licking across the counter, the stove a wall of fire. His mom stood near it, crying and screaming, hands flailing at the heat. His dad burst in from the garage, eyes wide, coughing hard. “Dad,” he shouted, voice raw. “Go outside now. I’ll get Mom.”
Joseph stumbled, nodding, and turned for the door. He lunged forward, Ranger beside him, barking fiercely. The heat seared his face, smoke thick and choking, the acrid burn of wood and grease filling his lungs. “Mom,” he yelled, grabbing her arm. She sobbed, clinging to him, and he pulled her back, Ranger nudging her legs, guiding them out. Grabbing Ranger’s lead by the door.
I can’t stop this.
Outside, cold bit his skin, the night air sharp against the heat still clinging to him. He gave Ranger’s lead to his dad who was holding his mom as she cried, her body shaking. Joseph fumbled his phone, dialing 911, voice trembling.
Mark didn’t wait, “I’ll be right back. running back inside, smoke thicker now, curling black around him.
Joseph screamed, “Son, don’t go in there.”
He grabbed the fire extinguisher from the living room cabinet, yanking the pin, and sprayed, white foam hissing against the flames. The fire was unstoppable, and the smoke stung his eyes and throat. He coughed, chest tight, and retreated, snagging his mom’s purse, his and his dad’s wallet, he opened the gun safe and retrieved his weapon. He also got their car keys from the table. He stumbled out, gasping for fresh air, the front yard a blur of terror.
Sirens wailed closer, the fire department rolling in fast. The fire Captain led the team, his face grim under his helmet, shouting orders as hoses unfurled. Flames busted through the kitchen window, shattering the glass, and licked into the garage, a hungry roar swallowing the night. The upper level held, but smoke billowed, dark and thick.
He stood with his parents, shock numbing him, fear clawing his gut. His mom sobbed into his dad’s chest, Joseph’s arms tight around her, his own eyes wet. His phone buzzed in his pocket, but he couldn’t move or look. Ranger pressed against his leg, whining low, and he shivered, the cold sinking deep.
“It’s cold,” he rasped, running to his truck and yanking a blanket from the back. He draped it over his mom, her cries breaking him, and his heart shattered, jagged and raw. Their home was burning, flames tearing through memories, walls, everything.
The firemen fought the blaze, water arcing against it, but it spread fast and relentlessly. Ethan knew most of the crew battling the fire, Sean’s steady voice a faint anchor in the chaos, yet terror held him, his family trembling beside him. His phone buzzed again, insistent, but he stared, lost, the roar drowning it out.
He wrapped an arm around his mom, pulling his dad close, Ranger’s warmth grounding him. Flames danced above the garage, a cruel glow against the night, and Mark’s call buzzed unanswered in his pocket, a fragile thread lost in the wreckage of their world, fear and loss swallowing them whole.
He stood outside his home, the cold night air biting his skin, his parents huddled beside him under the blanket he’d grabbed. The fire was out, but the devastation loomed surreal, a blackened scar where the kitchen and garage once stood. The smoke lingered faintly, mixing with the stench of wet ash and charred wood. Police lights flashed red and blue, firefighters milled around, and neighbors whispered in clusters, their faces pale in the dark. Ranger pressed against his leg, a steady warmth, and he gripped the lead tight, holding on.
I can’t fix this.
Sean approached, helmet off, soot streaking his face. “Your mom said it was a grease fire,” he said, voice steady. “It got out of control fast. It looks like the kitchen and garage, because they were additions to the home, took the worst. The main house has smoke and water damage.”
He nodded, throat tight, glancing at the gaping hole where the kitchen window had been. His mom’s sobs cut through, sharp and raw, and his dad’s arm tightened around her. Jonathan, Ethan’s sergeant from the department, stepped up beside Sean, his face kind despite the chaos. “Ethan,” he said softly, “what can I do? Whatever you need, it’s not a problem.”
“Thanks,” he rasped, forcing strength into his voice. “I have a first shift tomorrow.”
Jonathan nodded. “Don’t worry about it, I will get it covered. Do you want one of the other K9 guys to take Ranger?”
He shook his head. “No. I need him with me right now.”
Sean clapped his shoulder. “We’ll be here a while, to make sure it’s all out, no embers will remain. I have a friend coming to board up the windows and the holes, we’ll secure it tonight.”
Jonathan added, “Take your family to a hotel. Come back in the morning and meet Sean and me at nine. We’ll assess the damage in daylight and come up with a plan. We’ve got your back, Ethan. You just take care of your mom and dad tonight.”
He swallowed, nodding. “Yeah. Okay.”
Sean squeezed his arm. “Let us handle the house. Meet us here tomorrow.”
His phone buzzed in his pocket again, insistent, and he glanced at his parents, his mom shivering despite the blanket. “Hey,” he said, turning to the young couple across the street, their faces soft with worry. “Can you take my mom and dad to your house for a little bit to get her out of the cold?”
The wife smiled, gentle. “Of course. Come on, Martha, Joseph.”
His dad guided his mom over, her cries fading as they crossed the gravel, and he exhaled, turning back to Sean and Jonathan. “Thanks, guys,” he said, voice rough.
His phone buzzed once more, cutting through, and he stepped away, boots crunching on the driveway. He moved to the other side of his truck, the cold metal biting his hand as he leaned against it, and pulled out the phone. Mark’s name glowed on the screen. He answered, throat closing as Mark’s voice came through, steady and urgent. “Ethan? What happened? Is everyone okay?”
Tears broke free, hot and sudden, and he choked on a sob, pressing the phone tight. “Mark,” he said, voice cracking. “The house, it caught fire. The kitchen’s gone, and the garage too. Mom screamed, I got them out, but it’s bad. We’re going to a hotel.”
Mark’s voice sharpened, almost shouting. “Absolutely not. Take them to my house. Put your parents in the master bedroom, you take the second one, it’s finished from all of your work. I’m getting on the first flight out.”
He shook his head, even though Mark couldn’t see. “No, your work, your clients, I don’t want,”
“It’s not an issue,” Mark cut in, firm. “Get over there, Ethan. Make your parents feel safe. Make them feel at home.”
He sniffed, tears streaking his face, the cold numbing his fingers. “Thank you,” he whispered. “I’m so scared for them.”
Mark’s tone softened, fierce with care. “I know. You’re not alone. As soon as I’m back, we’ll figure it out.”
He clutched the phone, Mark’s words a lifeline, and his voice broke again. “Mark, I’m barely keeping things afloat. How can I keep them safe now?”
“You’re not alone,” Mark repeated, steady as stone. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”
He nodded, a sob catching in his chest, and glanced back at the house. The flames were gone, but there were remnants of smoke curling from the wreckage, a gaping wound in the night. Ranger whined beside him, nudging his leg, and he bent, stroking his fur, grounding himself. His parents were across the street, silhouettes against the neighbor’s curtains, and Sean’s team coiled hoses, their voices a distant hum.
His phone trembled in his hand, Mark’s promise echoing through the chaos, and he held it tight, the ruins of his home smoldering behind him. Fear clawed at him, raw and relentless, but Mark’s voice wove a fragile thread of hope, tethering him as terror loomed, a silent vow to face this together.
He pulled his truck into Mark’s driveway, the engine’s rumble fading into the cold night. His parents sat silently in the cab, his mom’s soft sobs muffled by the blanket around her shoulders, his dad’s face drawn tight. Ranger shifted in the back, ears up, and he climbed out, opening their doors with hands that wouldn’t stop trembling. The house loomed dark and quiet, a stark contrast to the smoldering ruin they’d left behind.
“Come on in Mom, you’re so weak be careful,” he said, voice rough but steady, guiding them up the steps. He unlocked the door, the faint scent of Mark hitting him as they stepped inside, a ghost of comfort he couldn’t feel. Ranger padded in behind, sticking close, and he flicked on the lights, the glow harsh against the stillness.
He led them to the master bedroom, the plush bed creaking as his mom sank onto it, her blanket slipping. His dad sat beside her, rubbing her back, his eyes hollow. “Try to rest,” he murmured, pulling the covers back. “You’re safe here.”
His mom nodded, tears streaking her face, and his dad whispered, “Thanks, son.” He forced a smile, chest tight, and grabbed her purse from the floor, setting it on the nightstand. His fingers brushed the leather, and he paused, opening it quick. Inside, her spare pill container glinted, several days’ worth of meds rattling softly.
I have to call the doctor tomorrow for refills.
He nodded to himself, a mental note to keep her steady, and tucked the purse closer. “Sleep,” he said, voice firm. “I’m right down the hall.” His parents settled, the bed’s creak fading, and he shut the door soft, Ranger trailing him to the second bedroom.
The room felt sterile despite its finish, the bed’s cool sheets stark as he sat, kicking off his boots. Ranger hopped up, curling beside him, his fur brushing his leg, warm and grounding. The silence pressed in, thick and oppressive, and his shoulders slumped, the weight crashing down. His hands shook, smoke still stinging his memory, and tears broke free, hot and sudden, spilling down his cheeks.
I failed them. I can’t keep them safe.
He curled forward, sobs wrenching out, raw and quiet, his chest heaving against the despair. The fire flashed in his mind, flames swallowing their home, his mom’s screams echoing, and he felt powerless, a failure drowning in ash. Ranger whined, nudging his arm, and he buried his face in the dog’s fur, tears soaking through, the warmth a faint anchor.
His breath hitched, the room blurring, and he clutched Ranger tighter, despair clawing his gut. Mark’s house stood hollow around him, a refuge that couldn’t erase the ruin, and he cried harder, the emptiness swallowing him whole. His parents slept down the hall, fragile and lost, and he couldn’t shield them, couldn’t fix this.
He sank into the bed, Ranger pressed close, his sobs softening to whimpers as exhaustion crept in. Mark’s voice from the call lingered, a distant promise, and he clung to it, tears staining the sheets. The night stretched endlessly, a desperate ache for safety, for Mark’s return, holding him together as he shattered, fragile hope flickering in the dark.
He sat at Mark’s kitchen counter, the cool granite chilling his hands, a cold mug of coffee untouched before him. Sleep had dodged him all night, his eyes burning, the faint scent of Mark’s house mocking the emptiness inside. Ranger lay at his feet, head resting on his boots, a quiet anchor. It was early, the silence was heavy until the master bedroom door creaked, his dad shuffling out.
Joseph looked wrecked, his face pale, eyes sunken, back hunched with pain. “Your mom’s still sleeping,” he said, voice rough, easing onto a stool. “She’s a mess, son. Blaming herself for the fire. Tried to console her, but she’s at a breaking point.”
I couldn’t save our house, I couldn’t stop this.
He nodded, throat tight, forcing strength into his tone. “She’ll be okay, Dad. We’ll figure it out.”
His dad sighed, rubbing his spine. “Luckily, she has some of my pain pills in her purse, too. Son, you shouldn’t have run back in there. You scared us.”
He swallowed, jaw clenching. “I know, Dad, but I needed to try the fire extinguisher and get what I could. It wasn’t enough.”
Joseph’s hand rested on his arm, trembling. “I know, son, but you’re more important than all that.”
He forced a smile, guilt twisting his gut, and the front door clicked open, Diana and Linda stepping in. Their heels clicked sharp on the wood floor, arms laden with bags of food, clothes, and a small suitcase. Diana’s face was solemn, Linda’s softer, and he stood, Ranger rising with him.
“Mark called us,” Diana said, setting her bags down. “Wanted us to check in on you.”
Linda hugged his dad tight, her voice warm. “Joseph, how’s Martha?”
His dad’s shoulders slumped, eyes wet. “Not good. Sleeping now.”
Just then, his mom shuffled in, frail in her robe, hair tangled. Her eyes landed on Linda, and she broke, tears spilling as she stumbled forward. Linda caught her, arms wrapping tight, and she sobbed into her shoulder. “It’s going to be okay,” Linda murmured, stroking her back.
Diana clapped her hands, taking charge, her spitfire energy cutting through. “Okay, agenda time. Ethan, what’s your plan?”
He rubbed his neck, voice flat. “I’m Meeting Sean and my sergeant at the house at nine.
Joseph says, “I want to come to, son.”
Diana waved a hand. “Linda and I’ll stay with Martha. Mark’s due back around 1 p.m.”
She pulled out her laptop and set it on the counter. “What agency is your homeowners insurance through?”
His dad glanced at him. “USAA, through Ethan.”
“Ethan, do you mind Logging in for me,” Diana said, sliding the laptop over to Ethan. “Find the details, I’ll arrange everything.”
He typed slowly, his fingers stiff, pulling up the policy as she handed him a paper. “Go ahead and sign this power of attorney. Our firm will handle the insurance.” He hesitated, brow furrowing. “I can’t afford your fees, Diana.”
Her death stare pinned him, fierce and unyielding, and he sighed, signing quick. She smirked, playful. “Good boy.”
He huffed, and she leaned in, firm. “Ethan please don’t worry. Mark, Linda, and I are on this now. Your only job is to take care of yourself and your parents. We’ll deal with the rest, let’s regroup tonight for a plan.”
His dad shifted in the chair, his voice was low. “We should find a hotel. We don’t want to intrude on Mark.”
Linda shook her head, resolutely. “You’re all three Mark’s guests. You’re staying put.”
He glanced at the clock and grabbed his keys. “Let’s go, Dad.” Joseph rose, slow and pained, and they headed out, Ranger trailing behind, the kitchen’s warmth fading as the door shut.