Chapter 38
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Izzy
Emotions create a choke point on the highway of my thoughts. I stood there. That son of a bitch tried to take my son, and I did nothing. No, I shook and used every ounce of strength not to kill him but no action.
But as soon as my family came swarming in, I let them take control. It was like I was too weak and pathetic to stand up for him. Or maybe it was the baby gazelle thing, where the herd bands together to support one. But how did the injured baby gazelle feel about that? Sure, it survived the jaws of the croc, but still, it wears those scars as a constant reminder of its fuck up.
But what really got me was Drew thinking no one wanted him.
I did that.
I kept him away from his family, running under the stupid assumption that some batshit old woman spoke for everyone. That little lack of communication was my fault. And for years, it was the two of us.
And I thought I was enough. But as soon as we got here, he shifted, changed, opened up. He didn’t know what he missed until he got it.
Then there’s Lance. I know he has feelings for me. But nothing prepared me for how I felt as he held me, consoling Drew, checking on Nonna. He’s not a part of the Four Families. He knew when to step aside and let us take control. And I didn’t know how much I needed him there until he walked away.
When I saw my ex, I had no feelings besides anger. But for Lance there was a swell and rising of love.
Shit.
I felt loved. I am loved. Not just by my family, but by Lance, too.
I sit in my car, letting the feeling and realization hit me. Lance loves me. He loves Drew. He even loves my insane family. I never thought it would be something I would come close to. Now that I have it, shit…I didn’t know how good it could be.
Okay, time to make a new plan.
Make sure Lance is on board, and we are feeling the same thing. Check with Alana to see if there’s any special paperwork we need to fill out. Sit and have a conversation with Drew. Confirm this is something he wants too.
For the first time, things are starting to fall into place. Like this is the life I’m supposed to have.
I left Drew and Ian in school. The thought of pulling them out and getting ice cream crossed my mind, but instead I promised a sleepover this weekend, which seemed to appease the boys. This also gives Ian and Drew a chance to talk to a counselor.
I’ll report to Alana what happened. I’ll probably need to give a witness statement and this way we can go to the school as a unified front.
The roar of a screech dragon shakes my car. No. That can’t be right. Not right at all. It has to be something else.
The air changes, more electric, with a sense of stillness. A new dread forms in my stomach.
Turning down the street by the Mastodon office, my brain can’t register what I’m seeing. The parking lot is covered in snowflakes. No, that can’t be either. It’s glass. And plumes of black smoke billow from the back of the building. Everything smells like charred wood.
I’m out of the car before I realize it. I don’t even remember stopping it. I rush over to where Macie cowers behind one of the Mastodon SUVs. Besides some cuts and bruises, she seems fine. She’s on the phone. “There was an explosion about sixty seconds ago.” She grabs my arm and says, “Yes, there are people inside.”
Oh shit.
No.
“Who?”
“Lance and Alana,” she says to me, but she’s still talking to whoever is on the other end of the line. “The fire department is still seven minutes away.”
What? Seven minutes.
No.
No more baby gazelle. No more living alone. I didn’t spend the last ten years alone to find happiness for it to vanish. Absolutely not.
I sprint toward the building’s entrance. No one tells you how loud a fire can be. The aged wood creaks and screams as it’s consumed. The fire is on the upper levels, somewhere. That’s good. Right?
The front door is falling off its hinges, one barrier down. So far the bottom floor is damaged but maneuverable. “LANCE! Alana!” No sound.
The lobby is empty. No one is on the couches or in the waiting room. No sounds from the bathroom. The bottom is all clear. Up. Go up.
As soon as I start up the stairs, the smoke starts billowing down. “LANCE!”
Somewhere there’s a snap and shattering sound as the support beams give way. Floor two, this is where the guys have their desks. Cubical block: a clear line of sight. I call out, “Is anyone here?” I pause to listen, but the fire is so loud it would likely drown out any reply if someone did hear me. Above me, the ceiling shakes. No, not good. I could run across the room and check every spot, but that could take forever. And I don’t have that kind of time.
Another ear-splitting crack. The smoke fills the room like a deadly fog. Leave, there’s nothing here.
“Help!”
A sign of life. Hope. I turn and head toward the stairs one more time.
There I see lumpy masses in the smoky haze. Coughing and heaving. “I’m here to help!” I scream, but the smoke fills my lungs.
“Izzy?”
The mass is two people. Arms around each other, huddled together. My heart stops when I see the blood pouring off her face. Alana is holding most of Lance’s weight, his head is down, and he’s limp.
Don’t ask if he’s alive. The answer could be something you don’t want to hear. I step forward to grab his other arm.
Alana coughs, putting her hand up. “Wait, I don’t know if the stairs can hold all of us.”
Speed matters now. The smoke will kill us as fast as a fall. “You’ll get down faster if I help.”
Alana lurches forward, and I grab Lance’s right side. He’s dead weight and heavy as fuck. “You okay?”
She doesn’t answer.
I can feel the rise and fall of Lance’s chest. Alive. But for how long? We’re halfway down the second flight when burning wood rains on us. The roof is about to give way. I’ve never struggled to breathe in my life before now.
A plank falls, and Alana blocks it with her arm, protecting Lance’s head. There’s a cracking sound. Is it her arm or the wood? Either way, she yells and coughs. Second landing and still more stairs to go.
There’s a cough next to my ear. “Lance?”
We lumber down the next flight, dragging him behind. “Izzy?” he whispers. “Don’t be mad.”
“I’m not mad, but if you could help a little, that would be great.”
“Come on, we need your help. We won’t make it without you,” Alana coaxes as sparks and broken bits of wood fall on us.
As if her words are magic, Lance moves his legs, taking on some of the weight. It’s an awkward descent, but it’s enough to almost double our speed.
The third story comes crashing down on the second floor as we reach the last landing. The smell of burning plastic and its toxic chemicals compete with the smoke for my attention. But I focus on one step at a time.
The building rips apart much faster than I thought it would, torn apart like some god ripping the seams on a dress. The air is hazy, harder to see through, but beams of light cut through the smoke. Go. Go toward the light.
“We’re here!” I yell as the light gets larger and brighter. I don’t know who’s grabbing me, but Lance’s weight is off my shoulders. I’m not sure if my feet are touching the ground anymore, but someone is getting us out.
It’s an explosion of white light and slightly cleaner air. “Miss, are you okay?” Yellow. Plastic. Helmet. My brain can only process so many words. I cough until my stomach hurts, heaving the entire way.
In the light, I can see the damage.
Blood pours like a river from Alana’s left side. The deep red and the black char contrasts with the paleness of her skin. The firefighters and EMTs grab her to give her medical attention, but she pushes them off. “Macie!”
Macie, still clutching a black box in her hand, runs over to Alana. Words of concern flood out of her mouth, but Alana stops them. “I’m fine. Once I get to the hospital, they’re going to diagnose me with a concussion, which means several weeks of a brain break.”
The assistant nods and taps her phone. “Go.”
“Sell all the safehouses, the locations are compromised. Call the insurance companies and don’t let Hadeon help.”
Macie’s like a bobble head with every instruction. “Is that it?”
“No. Feed Midge, call Lance’s mom, and get as much help as you need, but trust no one.” Another coughing attack grips hers. I reach for Alana’s crumbling body. She blinks up at me. “Thank you. Tell your family, ‘The Deviant is coming.’”
Well, that’s never a good phrase, ever.
Alana watches me like she’s making a decision. “Macie,” she calls out.
“Yeah.”
“You can trust Izzy.”
I guess running into a burning building scores you a few brownie points.
Once the commands are issued, Alana allows the medical team to examine her. The EMTs ask me a ton of questions while giving me oxygen. Someone gives me a blanket as I sit on the side of the ambulance. Lance is already on a stretcher. He’s also bleeding, but it’s his arm and back that’s a mess. “Is he okay?” I ask, but no one answers me.
I want to scream and run to his side, but he’s already loaded up, and there’s some douchey firefighter in my way.
The sirens sing as they drive away with the only man I’ve ever loved.