Chapter 23
CHAPTER 23
S omething pulled Sky from her sleep. What? A sound? A smell?
It was nearly impossible to open her eyes, exhaustion trying to pull her back under, but she frowned on her next inhale.
What was that? Smoke?
A crackling noise had her eyes shooting open. Then she saw the light. Bright light from the doorway.
She shot up to a sitting position, and the world narrowed to the flames. Bright, angry flames that, even from her bed, she could see engulfed her hallway.
Fear and panic and shock snapped over her skin, making her breaths come faster and her heart thump harder.
Charlie!
She glanced around the room.
“Charlie?” she called.
He wasn’t there.
The fear turned into something else. Something stronger and so visceral that she could feel it with every part of her body.
She jumped out of bed and grabbed her phone. The call had barely rung before the operator picked up.
“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”
“There’s a fire in my house! A big one. I need the fire department here as quickly as possible.” She rattled off her address before hanging up, not even waiting for the lady over the line to respond.
She moved toward the doorway, coughs starting to rack her chest.
Her stomach dropped. It wasn’t just her hall that was enveloped in flames. It was everything. There was no way through!
The ice in her veins competed with the heat around her.
If Charlie wasn’t with her, he’d likely be in the laundry room with his food and water bowl. Her gaze flew to her bedroom window. There was an external window in the laundry. She could access the room from outside. It was locked but she could break the glass.
She slammed her bedroom door closed, grabbed a towel from her bathroom and sprinted toward her bedroom window. Cool, fresh air blew into the room the second she got it open, sending goose bumps running over her arms.
She jumped out, the grass cold beneath her feet. Then she ran, sprinting around her house, ignoring the air that burned as it whipped in and out of her already sore lungs. When she reached the laundry window at the back of her house, the panic almost swallowed her.
The kitchen was completely alight, and the flames were close to the laundry room. Too close.
Desperately, she searched the ground around her for something—anything that could break the glass. A large rock lay at the edge of her yard.
She sprinted toward it. It was heavy. So heavy she needed two hands to lift the thing.
Good. The heavier the better.
When she reached the laundry again, she lifted the rock above her head and smashed it against the window. The glass shattered, a few small fragments flying back and cutting into her skin.
She ignored the little stabs of pain and used the rock to clear the shards of glass around the edges. Then she spread the towel on the bottom of the window and climbed inside. A few sharp edges still cut into her skin, but she was so focused on Charlie she barely felt the scrapes.
She hit the floor inside the laundry, pieces of glass cutting into her feet—only to stop. Where was he? There was no laundry room door, but surely he wouldn’t have run out into the fire?
The smoke was thick, burning her lungs more with each cough. She dropped to her knees, ignoring the sear of glass cutting into them.
There was a gap between her washer and dryer…and that was where she found Charlie. He’d burrowed right to the back.
Thank God!
“Charlie, come on, boy, I need you to come out.”
He whimpered, his little limbs trembling as he pushed himself farther back.
“Charlie, honey. I can get you out. Trust me.” She kept her voice soft and gentle, coaxing him.
He took a small step forward.
“Yes, that’s it, honey, keep coming.”
A little closer. His legs shook, but he continued to move forward until finally he was in her arms.
Tears stung her eyes as she cuddled him against her chest. He was okay. Now they had to get out.
She stood and was about to turn toward the window—only to stop at the sight of the figure in her kitchen. A large, dark figure.
Becket.
She frowned. That didn’t make sense. She was in Cheyenne.
But he was there…standing in the middle of the flames, not moving.
“Becket! Get out!”
But even as she cried the words, she knew there was nowhere for him to go. Flames surrounded him. He was stuck. Stuck in her house in the middle of a blazing fire.
“Becket—”
“You did this.” He didn’t yell, but somehow his words carried over the flames, punching right into her. “You knew you weren’t safe to be around, yet you allowed me to stay. You killed me. Just like you killed Charlie.”
She stumbled back, only to gasp when she realized her arms were empty.
“Charlie?”
“He’s gone,” Becket said.
Her head shot up.
Becket lifted a shoulder. “You let us get close. You killed us.”
She turned, searching. “Charlie? Where are you?”
“Sky? Can you hear me?”
“Where is he?”
“Sky…”
The next time she looked up, Becket was gone.
She screamed.
* * *
A loud whimper pierced the air, and Becket’s eyes shot open. Beside him, Sky’s head thrashed from side to side, her chest rising and falling with quick, shallow breaths, but her eyes were closed.
She was having a bad dream. He’d seen lots of nightmares before. Some guys in the military had suffered from pretty bad ones and this looked identical.
“Sky?”
Nothing. Her head continued to toss and her breathing grew more erratic by the second.
He pushed up into a sitting position. “Sky…can you hear me?”
Fear cut across her features and she frowned in her sleep.
“ Sky .” He called her name with a bit more force.
If possible, her chest heaved faster—and she screamed.
Fuck .
He gripped her arms and gently shook her. “Wake up, Peaches. Now .”
Her eyes popped open, and the mix of panic and terror and just sheer fucking darkness on her face gutted him.
“Becket?” Her voice was a pained whisper.
“Yeah, honey, it’s me.”
Slowly, she pushed up, her arms trembling, while she scanned him from head to waist. “You’re okay.”
His brows twitched. “I’m okay.”
She looked around the room. “I’m in Amber Ridge.”
“Where were you a second ago?”
Her gaze flew back to him, and he could have sworn he saw ghosts in her eyes. “Cheyenne. It was the night my home caught on fire. I had to climb out of my window, then break the laundry window to get Charlie out.”
The thought of her breaking back into a house that was on fire made his skin crawl. “Do you dream about that night often?”
“I used to. Especially after Charlie passed away. But usually the nightmare follows the night exactly.”
“It didn’t this time?”
“No, this time…” She frowned, something he couldn’t place passing through her expression. Something that made his stomach drop. She lowered her head into her hands. “I’m sorry.”
“Why are you sorry?”
“I woke you with a silly dream and—”
“Hey. It’s not silly. It’s something that happened to you. Something that still affects you. What can I do to help?”
“Can you get me some water?”
“Sure.”
Becket leaned over and pressed a firm kiss to her temple before climbing out of bed. Even when he got downstairs, his chest was still too tight. He could barely breathe. He hated that she’d been caught in a fire. That she’d had to escape then reenter to save her dog, only for Charlie to die less than a week later. And he hated that the event stayed with her. That she had nightmares about it.
Had this nightmare been caused by the small grease fire in the kitchen a couple of mornings ago?
He filled a glass with water.
There was something about the way she’d looked at him though. She’d been relieved when she’d first seen him, but then that fear returned to her eyes. Why? And how had her dream been different than usual?
He took the water back up the stairs, only to stop at the doorway. Sky was still sitting on the bed, sheets pulled up around her chest, but she was looking out the window, an intense frown carved into her brow.
She was so deep in thought, she didn’t hear him come in.
“Hey.”
She jolted and turned to face him. “Hey.”
He perched beside her on the bed. “Are you doing okay?”
She nodded. He didn’t believe her for a second.
He brushed a lock of hair from her cheek. “Sky. You can talk to me.”
Her brows flickered. “Thank you.”
Becket sighed. He wished she’d talk to him. But he couldn’t force her. He just had to hope that when she was ready, she’d open up about her nightmares and flashbacks.
“Let’s get some rest,” he said gently.
She nodded and sipped her water. When she curled back up under the blankets, she was right on the edge of the mattress. He could have laughed. There was an entire bed between his side and hers. No way were they staying like that.
He turned off the light, and the second he was beneath the sheets, he curved an arm around her waist and pulled her back against him. At first she was tense. Then he kissed the back of her neck, and whispered, “Sleep. You’re safe.”
A second passed, and she relaxed into him. But he still didn’t feel okay. Something was going on in her mind that she didn’t feel she could share. He needed to know what…and he needed to know soon.