Chapter 18
Grady smiled to himself as he sat back and watched a couple of the guys in the firehouse, Beckett Clark and Archer, play Ping-Pong. The ball made its unique clicking noise every time it bounced on the table's surface or a hollow smack when one of the guys hit the ball with his paddle.
The last weeks Grady had spent with Chelsea had been amazing. She was wholesome, genuine, loving, and compassionate, and she just happened to be as beautiful on the outside as she was on the inside. All those gorgeous curves… He couldn’t wait to get his hands on them again.
Something whacked Grady in the shoulder, knocking him out of his daydreams.
“Whatever you’re thinking about, it must be pretty damned good,” Beckett said as he caught the Ping-Pong ball he’d just hit Grady with. “You’re smiling like you just got laid by half the Green Bay Packers cheerleaders.”
“Better.” Grady got to his feet. “Every one of them.”
Archer snorted. “Dating Chelsea has you walking around like you’ve discovered a way to get to Mars in a VW Bug.”
Beckett laughed, and Grady shook his head. “Chelsea is something else.” He couldn’t help smiling again.
The alarm blasted throughout the firehouse. Over the intercom, the dispatcher’s voice informed them that there was a fire at the specified address.
The location was the house on the right side of Grady’s.
“Shit.” Grady hurried to get into his gear as his heart slammed against his breastbone.
“That’s next to my place, Kyra’s home.” He thought about his Dalmatian.
“I hope to hell Kyra’s all right and that Carla picked Spot up already to take him to doggie daycare.
” He’d been running late this morning and had asked the woman who lived in the house to the left of his, Carla, to take him.
She was a great neighbor, and they often traded favors.
Archer frowned as he and Grady climbed into the cab with the rest of the crew. “No doubt she took him,” Archer said.
Grady nodded, but said nothing as they strapped in. The men around him joked with each other on their way to the fire, similar to how soldiers often liked to keep things light when they went on a mission.
The closer they got to his neighborhood, the faster Grady’s pulse raced. When they reached the site, he saw his own home was on fire as well as the one to the right. His heart slammed against his breastbone.
He was the first out of the truck.
Smoke billowed from three homes. “Captain.” Grady jogged over to Captain Gerry Spencer. “A woman lives at the address we were called to, on the right. My home is to the left, and my dog might be there if my friend didn’t take him to daycare.”
“Spot?” The captain shouted out orders, then turned back to Grady. “I’m sending Roberts and Elliott with you.”
Grady nodded. In moments, he, Archer, and Cord Elliott headed up the stairs to Grady’s home. The dog’s continuous barking could now be heard over the thunder of the fire and the creaking structure. Grady’s heart jumped into overdrive. Spot.
When he reached his front door, Grady slammed his boot against the door jam. Spot’s barking grew louder. The lock gave way, and the door swung open.
Smoke rolled out, and Grady immediately caught sight of the Dalmatian through the haze.
Spot continued to bark, rather than run to Grady.
“Come on, boy.” He went to scoop up the dog. Spot bolted to the kitchen instead. Grady shouted at him and ran after him.
Grady almost tripped over a body. His heart nearly stopped when he saw it was the woman who planned to take Spot to daycare.
“Carla.” He bent and put his fingers to her carotid artery. Her pulse was faint, but she was alive. Grady scooped her up, and a cell phone slipped from her hand and thumped on the floor.
The sound of a 9-1-1 operator could be heard coming over the line. “Ma’am. Are you with me?” Carla had succumbed to the smoke before she had a chance to get herself and Spot out of the house.
Grady ignored the phone. The roar of the fire grew louder throughout the house as he ran for the door.
Archer took Carla from Grady and started out of the house at a jog.
Grady looked at the Dalmatian and pointed to the parking lot. “Go to the truck.”
Spot knew exactly what to do when Grady gave the order, but the dog didn’t move. He stayed close to Grady, as if he intended to play the part of a faithful firefighter dog.
Grady bolted out of the house, Spot at his side.
A scream tore from Kyra’s house, along with shouts of, “Help me!”
Grady shot his gaze to Cord and pointed to where Kyra leaned out of a top-floor window. She had a coughing fit and leaned on the windowsill with one hand. Flames engulfed the top floor.
Grady and Cord hurried toward Kyra’s end of the house, Spot following. Two other firefighters had already gone inside, but may not have heard Kyra’s screams as they searched the home.
Grady didn’t have time to take the Dalmatian to the street, and the dog was smart. He’d saved Carla’s life.
The fire roared as firefighters worked to extinguish the flames with powerful fire hoses, while others searched the house.
Kyra saw Grady and Cord coming toward her home.
The roof above her creaked, wood popping, and something crashed next to her.
She cut her gaze in that direction with a terrified expression.
“Hang on, Kyra.” Grady shouted the words, but the noise of the raging inferno drowned them out.
Grady, Cord, and Spot reached her door. Grady shouted at Spot to get back, and this time the dog listened. Grady hurried through the doorframe, splintered from the other firefighters who’d already entered the home.
Flames filled Grady’s view.
Before Grady could start forward, Spot bounded through a gap in the flames and into the house.
“Shit.” Grady stepped toward the door as he glanced at Cord. “Let’s get Kyra.”
And let’s get Spot.
Grady put on his oxygen mask, then dodged through the same gap Spot had slipped through. The ceiling had collapsed in the living room, landing on the tile floor and consuming the furniture. But the stairs were still free of flames. Spot barked from the landing above them.
Grady and Cord hurried up the stairs. Smoke shrouded everything. When they reached the landing, Spot went left and into the room where Kyra had been yelling from. They rushed after Spot and entered the room.
Through the smoke, Grady saw a female slumped on the floor beside the window, Spot at the tall woman’s side. “Kyra!” She didn’t move.
He looked for some way around the fire to get to her. To the right, closest to the window, was a space so far untouched by the fire.
Cord said, “You’ll never get to her in time. This whole building is going to go.”
“I will.” Grady glanced over his shoulder. “Three minutes, in and out.”
Cord nodded right before Grady plunged into the fire, moving as fast as he could to the area yet to be ravaged by flames.
His heart thundered, but his mind was clear. He reached Kyra and Spot. The Dalmatian barked as Grady scooped up Kyra, who moaned. Her eyelids fluttered as she choked on more smoke.
He turned to head back in the direction they had just come.
Flames consumed everything in the room. Debris rained down a moment before another beam crashed through the massive hole in the ceiling, shaking the floor.
The floor was starting to give in. It creaked and groaned.
Grady swept his gaze one more time around the area in front of him. A beam that had crashed through the ceiling rested against one wall. The angle of the beam left just enough space to duck through. Spot barked and led the way.
Grady carried Kyra in his arms. He reached the beam and dropped to his knees to crawl beneath it, moving her in front of him as he push-crawled.
The heat was nearly overwhelming. Grady scrambled out from beneath the beam, picked up Kyra, and eased her over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold. He saw the open door and Cord through a wall of flames.
A thought went through his mind over and over. I have to get back to Chelsea. I can’t leave her alone like her husband did.
He admitted something to himself that he hadn’t before.
I love Chelsea.
I will get home to her.
Grady’s heart thundered, yet he was calm at the same time. No way was he going to end up trapped in a fire and not save Kyra and Spot.
The ceiling shuddered and groaned. Grady ran in the only direction he could—for the door.
He emerged from the flames and, with relief, handed Kyra off to Cord. Spot stood just in front of Grady, barking as if telling him to hurry.
A yawning roar, and the ceiling collapsed.
Flaming debris fell just as a beam slammed onto Grady’s legs and drove him to the floor.
Grady’s vision blurred as his mask ripped away from his face, and all air was knocked from him.
Smoke crowded his lungs, and he choked, his eyes watering. He tried to crawl forward, but pain screamed through him. His legs were not only trapped beneath the beam, but they were probably broken as well, including his ankle.
“Fuck.” He could barely choke out the word. The room grew hotter, the smoke denser.
“Hold on.” Archer crouched in front of Grady a moment before he disappeared from sight.
Archer worked to shove the beam off Grady’s legs, and he bit back a shout from the excruciating pain.
The smoke was so thick, that Grady came closer and closer to losing consciousness.
Another firefighter entered the room. Grady could only tell it was Beckett by the name patch sewn onto his gear.
“You need to get out of here,” he shouted at Archer and Beckett. “This place is going to go.”
“Shut the fuck up and let us do our job,” Archer shouted.
Spot tugged on Grady’s sleeve, and he almost gave a delirious laugh at the seriousness in the dog’s actions and the growls coming from his throat.
“It’s okay, boy.” Grady had a coughing fit before he spoke to Spot again. “They’ll get this damned thing off of me and we’ll make it out.”
The room vibrated. The floor made an ominous sound.
Beckett and Archer shoved the beam off of Grady’s legs, and he almost screamed and blacked out from the pain.
The men grasped him by the arms.
“Legs are broken,” Grady managed to get out. His thoughts flashed to Chelsea again.
“We’ve got you,” Archer said, voice muffled by his mask.
They dragged him out of the room just as the floor behind them caved in.