Chapter 29
Corey jumps from the driver’s seat, and I quickly follow Kali and Taylor out.
“Call off-duty responders, now!” Dom barks, rounding the front of the truck. He stops short, muttering, “What the fuck?” before snapping his gaze back to the three of us.
I know the drill, but this is bad. The smoke is thick; not quite black, more of a heavy brown. And the way it’s pushing out of the blown windows tells me it’s hot.
“Kali, work with Corey!”
“Pumping to inch-and-three-quarter line. Pressure at 120 PSI,” she responds.
Dom’s eyes shift to me. “Check the back entry. Call came in that there are people inside.”
I nod and break off, radio in hand, while Dom keeps issuing orders to Taylor and the others.
Rounding the four-story hotel, I find the side door—metal, no windows to break, locked up tight.
A handful of people run toward me, coughing, faces streaked with soot. If they’re making it out, there’s got to be another opening.
“Get to the front and across the street!” I yell. “Medical personnel are on the way!”
I don’t stop to check them over. Compared to the ones still inside, they’re already better off.
Turning the next corner sharply, I spot a glass door, shattered. A family is crawling through it, pulling each other to safety.
I barrel past them and charge inside.
To my left is a stairway, a thin layer of smoke rolling down from it. Before heading up, I sweep through the ground floor. The first door opens easily, and when I step into the main hall, there’s no one in my direct line of sight.
“Fire Department! Call out!” I shout, moving toward the front of the building.
As the lobby comes into view, another hallway branching off to my right—completely swallowed in smoke. I can’t see more than three doors down.
“If you can hear me, shout or make noise!” I yell again, my voice bouncing against the walls.
That hall is a no-go. I turn and charge down the opposite side, calling out room by room. Nothing. Absolute silence, save for the sharp pops of fire crackling somewhere behind me.
I take the stairs up to the second floor. No one passes me on the way, which gives me a flicker of hope that the hotel’s already cleared, but I can’t afford to assume that.
“Keoni, it’s Corey.” I hear his voice crackle over the walkie. “I’m entering—south exit. Over.”
I tilt my head and click to reply. “Copy. I’m taking the east stairway. Be careful—full visibility on my side, zero on the west. No signs of life on the first floor. Check third and fourth. I’ve got the second. Over.”
“Copy that. Over.”
I pull up my mask and push through the second-floor door. Heat slams into me, and the hallway is blanketed in dark smoke.
“Fire Department! Call out!” I bellow. The heavy material muffles my voice, but I know anyone in the nearest rooms would hear it.
I repeat the call again and again as I creep forward, visibility dropping to almost nothing. By the time I reach the four-way intersection in the center, I can see flames licking through the haze.
There are muffled noises, but most belong to the fire—a low, rushing roar. I’ve always compared it to a distant freight train.
Pushing deeper into the thickening smoke, I shout, “If anyone is here, make some noise!”
Two doors ahead, the fire has already consumed the rooms. Paint blisters on their surfaces, scorched patches spidering outward from the furthest door. Thin, black wisps leak through the cracks and curl out from beneath.
I slam a fist against the wall to my right. “Anyone?!”
I’m seconds away from calling it when I hear the smallest cry.
“Hello?!” I bang again, heart jolting, and suddenly my body catches up to reality—the unbearable heat, the way my lungs fight, the way every instinct screams for me to retreat.
But I can’t. Not yet.
“Help!”
I click down on the walkie. “Search in progress. Victim heard, not located. Over.”
Forcing myself forward, I call out, “Bang on the wall!”
Two seconds later, a faint reply. “Help!”
Of fucking course it’s coming from the room right next to where the fire is raging.
I lower my shoulder and crash through the door. “Fire Department!”
The room isn’t filled with smoke—until it pours in behind me. I get one good look at the space before the haze thickens, visibility vanishing almost instantly.
I push into the bathroom first, braced for someone to be crouched in the tub. Empty.
Shit. Could it be another—
“Help!”
I spin back into the main room and drop low, sweeping past the beds. Nothing. The frames are solid, boxed in with wood paneling—no one could be hiding under there.
“Where are you?!” My voice cracks. Maybe the heat’s getting to me, but I swear I can hear someone—
“Help!”
I’m on my feet and rushing back into the hall.
“Keoni!”
I whip my head toward the sound. I can’t see anything through the smoke, but I don’t need to—Kali’s voice is unmistakable.
“Structure compromised,” Corey’s voice crackles over the radio. “Exit the—”
And then it’s like everything that could go wrong, does.
The room where the fire started detonates outward; loud pops, flames bursting through the doorway and flooding into the hall.
The ceiling above me groans, then caves.
I don’t even know if I manage to move. All I feel is the sudden, impossible weightlessness before everything goes black.
No pain. No sensation at all. Just a creeping dread.
And memories. Regrets I wish I hadn’t carved so deeply into my life.
It’s him who floods my mind. The one face I could never—no, would never—want to escape. If this really is my last breath, then he’s the only one I’d want to see.
Ayden.
Age 19
“Keoni, I’m so glad you could make it!” my stepdad says as I step through the front door. He pulls me into a hug—one I return gratefully.
My last final for the semester had been this afternoon, and by the time it was over, my flight was barely an hour from leaving. I’ve never been the type to cut it close at the airport, so to say I was stressed would be an understatement.
I hated missing Alysa and Ayden’s actual graduation, but at least I could make it to their party. Both of them did incredible; Alysa as Valedictorian, and no surprise, Ayden as Salutatorian. I’m grateful they never treated each other as rivals.
Their speeches were amazing, and thankfully my mom recorded them so I could watch on the plane. Of course, I rewatched Ayden’s several times. He dedicated the entire speech to the symbolism of a lion.
“I can’t help but think of a lion—not just because it’s bold or strong, but because of how it learns to lead. Lions aren’t born kings or queens of the savannah. They start as clumsy cubs, curious and learning from every misstep… just like us four years ago.”
The whole speech had me hooked, but it was his smile that wrecked me.
“You just need to walk like a lion. With purpose, with courage, and with the people who stood by your side. Your family.”
I’m not sure what hit harder—his words, or seeing Mandy waiting with open arms when he stepped off the stage. God, it’s terrible, but it should have been me there. Congratulating him.
Kissing him.
Thank fuck he didn’t do that with her. I might’ve lost it right there in seat 12A. It’s one thing for her to drape herself all over him when he insists they aren’t together, but another to actually push that boundary.
Grant rests a hand on my shoulder and guides me through the packed house. A blur of faces—classmates, teammates, cheerleaders—fills the space.
“Ayden and Alysa are going to be so excited to see you,” he says with a grin. “We kept it a secret that you were coming.”
Tucking a hand into my pocket, I give him a cheeky grin. “Perfect—”
“OH MY GOD!” Speaking of my stepsister, there she is.
It’s like the sea parts—no one daring to get in her way—as she barrels down the hall and collides with me.
I laugh, wrapping my arms around her waist and lifting her off the ground. “Hey, Aly.”
“Oh, Kee, I’ve missed you! Ayden is going to freak when he sees you!”
“Where is he?” Grant asks from beside me as I set her down.
“I think outside.” She squeezes me once more before darting off. “Go find him, I’ll catch up later.”
I head upstairs first, ducking into the bathroom to wash up and drop my bag before rejoining the chaos.
By the time I return, the house feels even more packed.
Music. Laughter. The smell of BBQ drifting in from the open doors.
I thread my way through familiar faces, exchanging rushed greetings and ignoring the ones who try to hold me in conversation.
My chest buzzes with anticipation. I’m far too eager to find Ayden.
The backyard sprawls out in front of me, lit by string lights and the glow of rainbow LEDs rippling across the pool. A handful of teens swim while most cluster around the buffet tables and coolers. It’s loud, it’s alive, but… no Ayden.
I press further, weaving toward the far edge of the yard where the big fence cuts off the neighbor’s property. That’s when I hear it—soft, stifled. A sniffle.
Then Ayden’s voice, low and steady. “Mandy, I wish you wouldn’t cry.”
Her reply cracks with emotion. “I don’t understand why, though.”
Rationally, I know this is a conversation I shouldn’t walk in on. But selfishly? I’ve only got this weekend with him before summer training swallows my time. And I’ll be damned if I’m giving any of it away, especially to Mandy.
So, I make myself known. Deliberately stepping across the rocks instead of the grass.
She gasps. “Shit.”
Rounding my mom’s she-shed, I finally see them—Ayden slouched against the siding, hands shoved in his pockets, and Mandy a few feet away, red-eyed and startled.
It only takes him a second to clock it’s me. The frown melts right off his face, replaced with that blinding smile I’ve missed more than I’ll ever admit.
“Holy shit, Keo!”
“Oh… hey, Keoni.” Mandy’s voice is pointed.
But Ayden doesn’t hesitate. He pushes off the wall and barrels straight into me. His arms wrap tight around my middle at the exact same time mine lock around him, and fuck…
Yeah. This. This feels like home.
Unlike with Alysa, I don’t let go quickly. I keep him there, pressed against me, for longer than any stepbrother really should.
“You came…” he mumbles into my shirt, and the way his voice catches makes him squeeze me even tighter.
“Yeah. Sorry I was late… finals.”
“All good.” He leans back, though not far enough to put any real distance between us. His hand lingers against my side, grabbing onto my shirt. “Leilani said you had finals… I didn’t think you’d come at all.”
I haven’t smiled this hard since the last time I saw him. Goddamn, I’ve missed him.
“Ahem.”
Mandy’s still here, apparently. She’s plastered on a brittle smile. “Can I have him back for a bit longer?”
I hum, pretending to consider it, then shake my head and pull Ayden even closer with an arm around his shoulder. “Sorry, Mandy. Family first.”
Her lips twist, her foot stomps, and she storms off with a full-on pout.
Ayden watches her go and laughs, not making the slightest move to leave my side. “Thank god you showed up. I swear I don’t know how to tell her we’re never going to be a thing without breaking her poor heart.”
“You shouldn’t have led her on this long.” I raise a brow. “That one’s totally on you.”
He jabs me lightly in the rib. “I told her I wasn’t interested in anything but being friends.”
I shrug my shoulders. “She’s been pining over you since middle school. I’m not surprised.”
“Alysa promised to take care of it if she didn’t get the hint after graduation.” Looking down at him, he’s got his head tilted up, that sweet, unapologetic expression on his face. “I’m glad you’re here.”
My damn heart falls right into my stomach. “Me too…” Before I can do something stupid, I release him and take a step back.
“Have you eaten?” he asks, clearing his throat. “There’s food, yard games, and a bunch of stuff to do.”
I tuck my hands into my pockets. “I’m starved, and as long as you’re my partner or my only opponent, I’m down for some gaming.”
His laugh is infectious, like it always is. The kind that digs into your ribs and makes you laugh even when you don’t mean to.
He leans into me as his mirth grows, shoulder brushing mine, and I let myself soak in the warmth for half a second too long before remembering—I’m not supposed to want this.
“Unless it’s in something like chess or mathematics, you’re going to beat me in everything. Partnering up is the only way we are playing tonight.”
And that we did. For the next several hours, we ate and played partner games. From alcohol-free beer pong, to cornhole. Everyone stopped challenging us, which became boring. So we settled on just talking with Ayden’s graduate classmates.
The entire time, I stayed as close to him as humanly possible without actually holding him.
To me, Ayden is the piece that makes this home feel whole. I’m here with my mom, with my family, but he’s what makes it complete. With him, I’m not hollow. I’m not so empty.
And that thought breaks my heart a little more each time—because it comes with the brutal realization that I can’t have him.
As people begin to trickle out, Ayden and I dodge Alysa as best we can. She’s been trying to sit us down for a board game, and we both know how competitive she is. With me in the mix, it would’ve been a loooong night.
With our hasty escape, we find ourselves upstairs, slipping into my old room.
“That girl is relentless,” I whisper, letting out a soft laugh.
I glance up at him. He’s leaning against the door, that cheeky smile of his stretching wide enough to reveal both deep dimples.
The sudden realization of where we are—and that it’s just the two of us—makes my lungs tighten. I take a deep, shaky breath, and as our eyes lock, I worry I’ve forgotten who I am to him.
My heart races so fast that my breath comes out ragged.
“Relentless…” he murmurs, his voice low and sultry.
“Yeah…”
I lick my lips, and when he looks at them, I know I’m fucked.