Chapter 11
Xavier
The fire outside roared like we were trapped inside a jet engine.
I squeezed Cassidy against my chest in the bathtub.
We were on our sides, facing each other, in lukewarm water that offered little relief from the heat pressing down on us.
We pressed the wet blanket over our noses and mouths, but acrid smoke still clawed at my lungs with every breath.
"I can't breathe." Cassidy's hand pushed against my bare chest. "Xavier, I can't?—"
"Yes, you can." I pulled her closer, feeling her ribs expand and contract too fast. "Slow breaths. In through your nose, out through your mouth."
Her body trembled against mine. The woman who'd commanded those flames outside with absolute control was unraveling.
Smoke poured through gaps in the corrugated iron roof, growing darker and thicker with each second. The heat seared my eyeballs. Every blink felt like sandpaper. I wiped the wet blanket across my face, clearing away sweat and ash that drifted onto us like black snow.
Above us, the tin roof popped and shrieked. Metal expanding. Warping. Each sound was like a gunshot in the confined space.
A crack splintered across the window. Sharp as lightning. The glass spider-webbed but held.
Cassidy jerked in my arms. "Oh, God. Oh, God."
"Look at me." I brushed my hand down her bare arm. "Cassidy, look at me."
She tilted her head back. Her eyes searched mine. Wide. Terrified.
"We're going to make it," I said.
I had to believe that. I would never give up. We wouldn't give up.
On Annapurna Mountain, my climbing buddy Marcus had all the skills to survive the descent.
But somewhere above Camp Three, he’d stopped believing he could.
I saw it in his eyes. By morning, hypothermia had taken him.
He’d died right there, when I’d known he shouldn’t have.
Belief mattered. Sometimes, it was the only thing that got you through.
I wouldn't let that happen to Cassidy.
She trembled against me. "I can't breathe. I can't?—"
"Cassidy, listen to me." I tightened my arm around her.
"It's too hot. We're not?—"
"We are going to survive. I promise you. Now, put that blanket over your mouth."
Tears streamed down her cheeks as she pulled the blanket up.
"Good. Now, I want you to meditate. Pick one word and repeat it over and over. It'll calm your breathing."
"A word. What word?" Her voice was muffled against the wet blanket.
"Doesn't matter. Whatever feels right."
"What feels right?" She laughed, sharp and brittle. "How about fuck? Or shit? Or son of a bitch?" Her fingers dug into my hip hard enough to bruise.
"Try sunshine or flowers. Pecan pie."
My own word was simple. Survive. Survive. Survive.
"Do you have a pet?" I asked.
"What?"
"A pet. Something you love."
"Dogs. And my horse." Her voice cracked.
"What's your horse's name?"
"Jupiter."
"Perfect. Say that—Jupiter—over and over."
"Okay." Her breathing hitched.
“Do it,” I insisted.
“I am,” she yelled. “Fuck, you’re annoying.”
I chuckled, and as I squeezed her harder, her lips moved against my chest as she started the mantra. Jupiter. Jupiter. Jupiter.
Something massive slammed onto the roof directly above us.
The metallic boom was like a bomb going off. We both jolted, and water sloshed over the rim, flooding the floor.
"What the hell was that?" I pulled down the blanket and stared at the ceiling, expecting it to cave in.
Cassidy flinched. "Branches from that gum tree."
"Will the tree fall on us?"
"I hope not."
Another branch slammed into the roof. Dust and debris rained down on us. The corrugated iron groaned above us, metal screaming as it twisted in the heat.
Oh God, was that roof going to collapse?
Another thunderous impact hit the tin. Then another.
"Shit!" Cassidy's eyes went wide.
"Keep saying your word," I demanded. "Jupiter. Over and over."
Survive. Survive. Survive.
We had to survive.
Because if I was right, she was my sister. I'd never had a sibling before. I'd barely had parents—just two people who’d seen me as the heir to their empire, someone to mold and control. Someone who'd carry on their legacy of profit over people.
I'd spent my entire life being groomed for a role I’d never wanted. I’d been expected to laugh at the right jokes, marry the right person, and make the right connections. Everything calculated. Nothing real.
But sheltering in a bathtub with a woman I barely knew, facing death together—this felt more real than anything I'd experienced in my life.
Cassidy had captured my interest in a way no one ever had. She was smart, capable, fierce, and funny in a way that caught me off-guard.
It felt weird laughing with her. Yet also amazing.
Back home, laughter was practically a crime. If I was laughing, I wasn't taking my work seriously enough. I wasn't focused enough on quarterly reports, board meetings, and stock prices.
We had to live. I wanted to get to know her. I wanted to have a sister. Someone who existed outside the corporate world my parents had built. Someone who’d chosen the life she wanted instead of inheriting one she hated.
If we died here, I'd never get to tell her any of that.
If we died here, I'd never get to know if having a family might actually mean something.
The heat pressed down harder. Sweat stung my eyes. I gripped the wet blanket over my mouth.
Something dropped onto the door above us, and sharp, frantic scratching cut through the roar of the fire.
"What the hell's that?" I lifted my head, trying to see over the door above us, but I couldn’t move with Cassidy on my arm. More thuds hit the timber door.
Cassidy went rigid against me. "Ah, shit."
"What?"
The scratching grew louder. And then came high-pitched squeaking.
Something ran across the side of my waist above the waterline. I jerked hard. "What the fuck was that?"
"Mice." Cassidy's voice was too calm. "They're coming in."
"What? From where?"
"Gaps in the roof. They must've been in the tree."
Tiny claws scrambled up my ribs, my shoulder, racing toward my neck.
"Shit!" My skin crawled. I twisted, trying to shake them loose, but my left arm was trapped under Cassidy. "Get them off me."
"Xavier, calm down. They won't hurt you."
Another one ran across the back of my neck. Its tail dragged over my skin like a thick, wet thread.
"Fuck!"
"They're just scared," Cassidy said. "Same as us."
"That's not helping!" My voice cracked.
She slapped one off my shoulder. It landed in the water on the floor. But another replaced it, racing up my side. And another. There were too many. A dozen. Two dozen. Pouring into the bathroom like a living tide, scrambling for shelter from the smoke and flames.
They crawled over my head. Tangled in my hair. Their claws scraped over my scalp.
"Pull the blanket over us," Cassidy said. "Cover your head."
I yanked the wet blanket over my face. The fabric was heavy and suffocating, pressing against my nose and mouth. We huddled together in the darkness, breathing in each other's hot, panicked air.
But it was too late. The mice were already under the blanket with us.
One scurried across my chest, squeezed between our bodies. Tiny claws dug into my bare skin as it wriggled over my ribs. I jerked my free hand up to knock it away, and my knuckles cracked against Cassidy's chin.
"Shit! What are you doing?" Cassidy snapped.
"Sorry, that fucking mouse?—"
"Hey!" Her nails dug into my wrist hard enough to hurt. "What's your word?"
"What?"
"Your word, Xavier. Tell me your word."
"Survive." The word burst out of me, half-growl, half-plea.
She swiped a mouse off my hip, and it flew toward the end of the tub, where it fell into the water. "Let me hear it.”
The mouse paddled at the water, hooked onto my shoelaces, and climbed onto my leg.
“Fucking hell!”
“Xavier. Say your word. Now."
"Now, who's annoying?" Despite the hell surrounding us, I choked out a laugh. "Survive!"
"Jupiter!" she yelled back.
"Survive!" I shouted louder, the word scraping up my raw throat.
The fire roared louder, drowning out our voices. The heat intensified, and my skin above the waterline felt as if it were shrinking and tightening.
The window shuddered and Cassidy tilted her head back to see it through the gap. A sharp splintering crack cut across the glass.
"No. No. No." Cassidy's body went rigid against mine. "If that window blows, we're fucked."
Smoke billowed through the warped roof, thicker and blacker than before. It rolled across the ceiling like an oil slick. The temperature spiked again.
I squeezed my eyes shut and squeezed Cassidy tighter.
The roof groaned above us, longer this time, a tortured metallic shriek that went on and on, like the cottage itself was screaming.
"What's happening?" I yelled.
The corrugated iron buckled with a thunderous crack.
"Fuck!" Cassidy grabbed my arm. "I think it's going to—duck!"
The ceiling collapsed.
Metal and debris crashed down onto the bunk frame above us. The impact was deafening. Sheets of corrugated iron clattered onto the door and the floor.
The frame shuddered, and the door jolted sideways but held. Sparks exploded in every direction, hissing as they hit the water. The bathtub rang like a bell beneath us.
We both jolted, and water surged over the sides in a wave.
Mice scattered in every direction, squeaking in terror. Some darted into the water. Others disappeared into the smoke. Ash and embers rained down like hellfire, landing on the wet blanket and our exposed skin.
My heart hammered against my ribs. I couldn't get enough air. Each breath was fire in my lungs.
Cassidy’s bloodshot eyes met mine, wide with shock. Soot streaked her face, and a small burn mark bloomed red on her cheek.
"Are you okay?" My voice came out rough.
She nodded, breathing hard. "Thank God for that door." Her fingers still dug into my arm. "Are you?"
"Yeah. I'm okay." My throat felt like I'd swallowed glass. But I was alive.
Cassidy tilted her head back through the gap, and I did the same.
An orange glow filtered through a massive hole in the corrugated iron. What was left of the gum tree swayed above us, silhouetted against smoke that churned overhead like we were trapped in a tornado.
"The tree's not on fire," Cassidy said.
"I see that."
"I can't see any flames either."
"Me neither."
"We might be through the worst." She pushed the blanket down.
A mouse raced over my back, and I shuddered. "Good, because I don't know how much more of these mice I can handle."
As I rolled to flick a mouse off my arm, a heavy thud hit the door above us.
"What was that?"
Cassidy tilted her head back through the gap, and her eyes went wide. "You don't want to know."
"What?" I pressed back against the tub, trying to brace myself. "Tell me."
"A snake. It just dropped onto the door."
"What? Fuck! Are you sure?"
"Keep calm. I think it's a tree python. Harmless."
"You think? How big?"
"Big."
I strained to hear it, but the fire dominated everything, except my heart pounding in my ears.
A triangular head eased over the top end of the door, slithering into the gap near Cassidy's face. Slow and deliberate. The scaled body followed.
"Fuck. There it is."
The snake's scales gleamed in the orange light, each one distinct and terrifying.
Cassidy squeezed my wrist. "Relax. It's a python. Harmless."
"Oh, God. I can't. I have to?—"
"Don't move." Cassidy dug her nails into my skin. "Just let it do its thing."
The snake poured down over the rim of the tub between us. It was enormous. Its body was as thick as my forearm, muscles rippling beneath the scales.
"Shit," I hissed. "It's coming."
"Shhh." Cassidy was way too calm.
It lowered toward the water. Toward us.
Mice scattered along my side, squeaking as they fled.
The python's tongue flicked out, tasting the air. Tasting my fear. Its head swayed back and forth, hypnotic and deliberate, searching.
It lowered itself more, coiling and stretching, hovering over Cassidy's shoulder and face.
I thought my eyes would pop out of my head.
How the fuck is she staying calm?
The snake's body kept coming. Inch after inch after inch, sliding along Cassidy's shoulder, her arm, her hip. The weight of it pressed against us as it moved into the valley we created between us and used it as a path. I felt every muscle, every slither.
Its head dipped into the water between our legs.
Neither of us moved. Neither of us breathed.
It slithered into the water.
Then it vanished beneath the surface.