Chapter 3
Three
Forcing herself to tear her gaze away from the rippling flames covering the ceiling, she turned her back on the not-going-anywhere hinges.
Charlie figured it’d be best to rejoin the others in the main coffee shop, where hopefully the fire wasn’t as well-developed.
If it was, she’d suggest to Bennett that it might be time for his Plan B—B for Blow a hole in the wall big enough for them to escape through.
Crouched as low as she could go and still walk, she took one step.
With a crash, a flaming chunk of ceiling fell to the floor. Flames shot up in front of her, and she leapt backward away from it, her back hitting the door. She turned her face away, throwing her arms up in front of her as embers stung any exposed skin.
Peeking through her upraised arms, she groaned. “You’re in a pickle now, Charlie.”
The ceiling and entire wall on her right was on fire, and black smoke filled the air, making it hard to see anything except the too-bright flames.
The smoldering pile of ceiling tiles on the floor created the impression of a ring of fire in front of her, especially as the flames on the ceiling started to lick down the left wall, as well.
“Okay, so what do you do with a ring of fire?” she muttered to herself, her voice raspy.
Pressing back against the door, she took as deep a breath as she could without setting off a coughing fit and then sprinted forward.
The heat was intense, growing hotter the closer she drew to the fiery ring, but she pushed on, launching herself forward and up, sailing over the remains of the ceiling and landing on the other side—right on another pile of flaming debris.
“Ouch, ow, ow!” she yelped, hopping to another spot on the floor that was still hot, but at least wasn’t actively on fire.
“What are you doing?”
Charlie froze. Those growled words definitely didn’t come from inside her head. Before she could figure out who was in the smoke-darkened hallway with her, she was swept off her feet and deposited none-too-gently over a pair of broad shoulders.
“What?” she squawked—or tried to, at least. All she managed was a hoarse rasp.
“What’re you doing, jumping into a fire?” The owner of the shoulders demanded.
“I wasn’t jumping into a fire,” she managed to croak in her defense. “I jumped through the ring of fire. Like Evel Knievel.”
He snorted. “More like a badly trained circus poodle.”
Suddenly, the shoulders, the voice, the crankiness, and the bunker coat her cheek was currently mashed against all came together in a light-bulb moment of recognition. “Kieran? What are you doing in here?”
“Saving your ass.”
“I already saved my ass,” she corrected him, wanting to push herself up and insist that she walk, but by the way her legs were trembling, she was a little worried that she wouldn’t be able to stand on her own, so she kept quiet—about that at least.
His only answer was another snort, which she distinctly heard despite it being muffled by his SCBA gear. He charged through the front room, and she peered through the smoke.
“Are Fifi, Bennett, and Lou already out?”
“Right after we got the door open. They didn’t jump into fires and make things difficult.”
“I didn’t—” The rest of her indignant response was lost in a flurry of coughing, and Kieran picked up the pace, running through the door and not slowing down once they were outside.
Hands reached for her to help her off her undignified perch, but Kieran’s snarled “I’ve got her” made the hands withdraw.
They’re worried he might bite them. If she hadn’t still been coughing, she would’ve laughed at that thought.
“Charlie!” Fifi’s voice rose above the babble of other people and loud thrum of the fire engine.
Kieran placed her on her feet and then helped her sit on the extended bumper of the fire truck. Fifi, her face pale, rushed over to her with Bennett close behind. His poker face was ruined by the worried wrinkles between his eyebrows, and Charlie made a mental note to tease him later.
For now, she knew they needed reassurance. “I’m—mmmph.” Unfortunately, her “I’m fine” was interrupted by the oxygen mask that was jammed over her face.
When she turned a glare to Kieran—the holder of said oxygen mask—he just raised an imperious eyebrow and growled, “Breathe.”
“Oh, Charlie! Are you burned? Smoke inhalation? Of course you inhaled smoke. Why would you be getting oxygen if you didn’t?
I’m so sorry! We should’ve stayed together in the front.
” Fifi’s eyes were wide and watery, and the sign of impending tears made Charlie up the scowl she’d fixed on the man who was keeping her from reassuring her worried sister.
Since talking was out for her at the moment, Charlie gave Kieran’s arm a punch.
Instead of reacting, he just continued giving her a flat stare with just the hint of a snarl. His lack of a flinch was extra infuriating, since her punching hand hurt now.
“I don’t think you should be punching the arm that saved you,” Fifi said, her eyebrows high and startled as she looked back and forth between Charlie and Kieran.
“I mean, the man carried you out of a burning building and is currently giving you first aid. Maybe wait a few minutes before beating him up?”
To Charlie’s relief, her sister at least no longer looked like she was about to cry, so she was grateful to the ass in front of her for that.
Now he just needed to take off her oxygen mask so she could tell her sister that she’d been in the middle of saving herself when her unrequested—and unnecessary—rescue took place.
From his scowl, he wasn’t about to let her tell him off anytime soon, so she settled back against the cool metal of the truck and plotted her revenge.
If the stories were right, it was best served cold anyway—not that she’d know, since she was always too impatient to wait.
Right now, she just needed to find out if Lou was okay, so she gave her sister a questioning look.
Fifi settled on the bumper next to her. “Lou’s fine too.”
Charlie was grateful that her sister was a fair hand at reading her mind.
“Callum hugged her for a solid five minutes and is currently making her sit still so the paramedics can check her out.” Fifi nodded toward the ambulance, where Lou—a long-suffering look of strained patience on her face—was indeed being examined while Callum hovered.
Still muted by the mask, Charlie gave a thumbs-up to express her relief that no one had been hurt. Pointing toward the still-flaming building, she then lifted her hands in an exaggerated shrug, hoping Fifi’s charades skills were still on point.
“They don’t know yet,” Fifi answered her unspoken question.
“Either that, or they’re not telling. The sheriff was trying to get a statement from me and B, but we were too worried about you to pay much attention to her questions.
She’ll be back around, I’m sure.” Fifi turned her head as she examined the growing crowd, and then finally gestured toward a woman in a sheriff department uniform striding toward them. “Incoming, in fact.”
Charlie hated law enforcement interviews. She was suddenly grateful for Kieran’s overzealous application of first aid.
“Charlotte Pax?” the sheriff asked, focusing on her with a laser intensity that made Charlie feel instantly and undeservedly guilty. “Sheriff Summers. I have some questions for you.”
Trying to look as pitiful as possible, Charlie gestured toward the oxygen mask, giving the sheriff huge I-wish-I-could-help-but-I’m-incapacitated-after-nearly-dying eyes.
Kieran, that contrary beast, started to pull the oxygen mask away.
Grabbing his hand, Charlie jerked the mask back against her face, sending him a threatening glare.
His eyebrow and the corner of his mouth quirked up in a smirk, but he kept the oxygen mask in place. “Later, Sheriff,” he grumbled. “I’m treating her for smoke inhalation.”
The sheriff eyed them flatly, making Charlie fairly certain that Summers had caught the interplay, but she continued giving her best innocent-and-dumb expression until the sheriff turned to her sister. “Felicity Pax. Tell me why we’re lucky enough to have you visiting again so soon?”
Fifi hopped off the bumper and stood next to Bennett, leaning against him.
Charlie appreciated her sister’s effort to get the sheriff’s attention off her.
Batting her eyelashes at her new husband, who looked as amused as a boulder-made-human could look, Fifi said sweetly, “We never got a honeymoon. What better place to spend it than Simpson, where we fell in love?”
Summers gave the couple a sour look. “You brought your sister with you on your honeymoon?”
Fifi didn’t miss a beat. “He knew when he married me that my sister and I are a package deal.”
The sheriff’s eyebrows shot up, and even Kieran gave Charlie a startled glance.
“Um…not a second-wife type of package deal,” Fifi quickly corrected, sending Bennett a panicked look.
When he just smirked at her, she turned her flustered gaze on Charlie, who shrugged helplessly, grateful for the oxygen mask for the second time in as many minutes.
“I just…really like spending time with my sister.”
“On your honeymoon.” Summers’s voice was flat.
“Well…sure.” Fifi was looking positively desperate for a save now. “All this free time…what better way to use it than for Bennett to get to know a member of his new family?” Her voice rose in the end, making it even more obvious that she knew exactly how ridiculous her explanation was.
Kieran’s grunt sounded like it might actually be related to a laugh—not a sibling, but maybe a cousin?
Or a laugh’s second cousin? With him holding the mask on her face, Charlie couldn’t turn her head, so she rolled her eyes toward him instead, wanting to see what a laughing Kieran looked like.
His scowl was still in place, however, so apparently slightly amused Kieran was indistinguishable from cranky Kieran.