Chapter 30
Casey
Declan tries to drop me off back at the house first, but I tell him that if he so much as tries it, I’ll cut his fucking balls off. “I have to make sure Sheila’s okay.”
He’s not happy about it, but he drives fast and doesn’t argue.
I’m a knot of worry. This can’t be happening. Declan tells me what he knows, which isn’t much. His brother got word from Sheila’s guards that a fire broke out, but nobody knows if she’s alive or dead. Apparently, the blaze is pretty bad.
We hear the fire sirens and see the smoke from a few blocks off. Traffic tightens, and Declan has to slow down. He curses and swerves, hopping the curb at one point to get around a double-parked SUV before swinging into an open spot.
“Time to run,” he says, killing the engine.
We sprint down the sidewalk. It’s not easy in my work clothes, but I keep up the best I can.
My heart’s hammering, and god, I wish I worked out more, but I can’t stop.
Sheila might need me. I have to get there for her, even if I’m just going to be useless, dead weight.
We turn the corner onto my block, and Declan slows to a trot as the number of pedestrians and onlookers clogs all the available space.
“There’s already a fire engine here,” I say, pointing at where the red truck’s parked across from my old house.
Black smoke rolls into the air. Flames scream from the upper windows. The heat is terrible, even at a distance, and I can barely understand what I’m seeing.
It makes no sense.
This was my home. This place was my entire life up until recently. Sheila took me in here… she raised me here… all my important milestones happened under that roof.
Now it’s turning to ash.
Tears streak down my face. I stop dead in the middle of the street and stare, sobbing, chest heaving with pain.
Someone’s yelling at me, but I can barely hear.
Eventually, I feel Declan wrap his arms around me and pull me away from the fire cordon and onto the opposite sidewalk.
Men in heavy flameproof suits blast all the nearby buildings with water in a desperate attempt to keep the blaze from spreading.
“Baby, listen to me. It’s going to be okay. My people are here.”
I force myself to focus on Declan’s face. He’s all blurry from the tears. I wipe my eyes, but that barely helps. “Where’s Sheila?”
“One of the firemen says the building was empty. They went in a few minutes before we showed up.”
“She’s gone?”
“Somewhere. I don’t know. But we’re looking.” He grabs me by the shoulders. “You have to stay strong.”
I feel sick. I want to vomit on his shoes. But one thing keeps me going.
Sheila’s still out there.
And suddenly, an old memory occurs to me.
It’s hazy and distant, but I can still see my aunt sitting at her table, now surely burned to nothing, and tapping her knuckles to get my attention.
Just listen, I know it’s boring, but it might save your life.
If there’s ever a fire, you go out the back and into the alley.
Turn left, not right, you hear? You go left and you try to make it to where the cars are parked.
You run and you don’t stop. Do you hear me? Jump the fence and just go.
I grab at Declan’s wrist, tugging him back to the end of the block. “This way. I think I know where she is.”
He follows without arguing. I spot him gesturing at a few people in the crowd, and several figures fall in behind us.
I’m guessing Whelan guards, but I don’t know and don’t care.
I walk fast before it turns into a jog. I get around the corner and turn to where the narrow alley is between the yards in the back.
It’s weed-choked and overgrown, but there’s only one way in.
If Aunt Sheila turned right, she’d probably be dead. There’s no way through that side.
But if she followed her own plan…
The path is narrow. Declan tries to stop me, but I slip in through the brambles before he can get a good grip. “Damn it, Casey,” he snarls, following close. “You can’t get yourself killed on a hunch.”
“She’s here, she’s got to be here, if she got out—” I come to a stumbling halt. The yards ahead are burning, and the smoke is thick above us, but through the haze, I spot them.
Two bodies.
I scream and lunge forward. One person’s on the ground, not moving. The other’s behind them, on their knees. I shove aside weeds and choking vines and throw myself at Aunt Sheila.
She catches me in her arms. She feels so thin and weak down there on the ground. Her clothes are singed and covered in ash and sweat. She smells like a campfire.
“I tried to get him out,” she says and hacks a cough. “I couldn’t just leave him here. I tried…” She trails off, staring down at the body at her feet.
“I know him,” Declan says, looking over my shoulder. “He was your guard.”
Aunt Sheila nods. I’m so relieved she’s alive it’s like a punch to the throat. I barely register the unmoving corpse at our feet. But he’s young, in his early twenties, and there’s blood all over the place.
“He attacked without warning.” Aunt Sheila leans against the knotty fence.
“Didn’t say anything. Didn’t seem upset or angry.
All calm and composed. He started shooting the boys outside and killed two of them.
Jonathan came in through the front injured and angry.
He shot back, but he was already hit. He dragged me to the back door, and he’s the only reason I’m still alive.
That man followed, but Jonathan threw all my gas lines open, and as we got out the back door, he started shooting inside.
I guess that started the fire and kept that man away from us.
Jonathan collapsed when we got over the fence, and I’ve been trying to drag him out, but he’s just so heavy. He saved my life and now…”
She trails off. The horror of the situation settles heavy. I hug her tight, thankful she’s still here and feeling a little guilty for that.
“I’ve got him now.” Declan stoops down and takes the body by the arms. “We’ll take care of him. You two get out of here. My men are waiting at the exit.”
“Come on.” I help Aunt Sheila away.
“How bad is it?” She looks back over her shoulder at the smoke. “It’s all gone, isn’t it?”
“You’re alive.” I hug her tight and keep moving. “That’s all that matters.”
Declan follows, leaving a smear of blood from the corpse in our wake.