Chapter 35
THIRTY-FIVE
SAVANNAH
I follow Mr. Holt into what Brodie’s mom called the fancy room, my head unable to think about anything other than how Brodie doesn’t want me here.
He held me. Kissed me. And then told me to leave.
I blink, taking in the room, all my energy feeling like it’s been siphoned away.
Where the rest of the house is lived in and homely, in here it’s formal. A cabinet full of china ornaments runs along the far wall. The cream carpet and couch are spotless. And the wallpaper is all-out fussy flowers, a time capsule from another era.
Mr. Holt perches in an upright armchair. “Thank you for agreeing to talk with me. This won’t take long and then you can get back to Brodie.”
I just catch my whimper, making a strangled sound instead. “Brodie doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore, sir, and I don’t blame him. My dad did a number on him today.”
Choosing the couch, I sit at a right angle to Mr. Holt. Settling, I run my hands over my face, so grateful Nix made me wash off my makeup from lunch because otherwise I’d look like the walking dead.
Mr. Holt shakes his head. “Don’t worry about Brodie. His brothers will knock some sense into him.”
I attempt a polite smile while doing everything I can to not let his words ignite even the tiniest sliver of hope inside me. Luckily, after what feels like the longest day in my entire life, I’m too drained for hope. Or anything else for that matter.
“Savannah, I want to talk to you about your mom.”
Okay, maybe not quite drained enough.
I get a jolt of shock that hits deep in my guts. “Why do you want to talk about my mom?”
“Because I think she’s the key to everything that’s happening here.” His hand wrestles with his hair, just like Brodie.
My heart clambers into my throat. “I don’t understand.”
“Savannah, I was the lieutenant in charge at the fire that killed your mom.”
His words are so far from what I’m expecting him to say that it takes me a long moment to process them. As a result, I sit staring. Silent. Unblinking. A rabbit trapped in headlamps. Brodie’s dad was in charge? At the scene? “Sorry, what?”
“How much do you know about the fire from when you were a kid? Is it something your father ever talks about?”
“Uh, well, I pieced together what I could. Dad never spoke about it when I was young, and when I got older, he refused to answer my questions. I did some research, but there were very little details reported beyond what I’d already worked out.
Mom died. A firefighter died. And once I began my firefighter training, I worked out that there had likely been flashover. ”
Mr. Holt nods. The movement stiff. “You’re right, it was flashover. A textbook case. The inquest afterward found the cause to be an electrical fault in the main bedroom.”
“Mom and Dad’s room?”
“Yes. Meaning there was no way we were getting your mom out alive that night.”
It feels like everything stops dead, my body frozen in time. “What do you mean?”
“Just that. As I’m sure your training has taught you, flashover is always catastrophic and instant. And it began in your mom’s room.”
“But what if I’d managed to get in there before you arrived? I could have done something. Woken her. Made her move. Gotten her away from the fire.”
His hands clench against his knees. “Savannah, you were just a kid. There was nothing you could have done.”
“But I tried. Her door was stuck. Wouldn’t open.”
“Because that’s where your mother’s body was located.”
I struggle to breathe. “I couldn’t get in because my mom’s body was blocking the door?”
He nods.
“So she was trying to escape and collapsed?”
“Probably. And because of that, she saved you. It was likely the room was already reaching flashover conditions. High heat. Thermal radiation. The accumulation of unburned gases.” He clears his throat, his voice gaining authority, the firefighter in him shining through.
“As you know, any sudden influx of oxygen accelerates combustion, and when all combustible materials in a room simultaneously reach their ignition temperature, the result is flashover. This is why we’re trained to use door control. My probie that night did not.”
I remain passive on the outside, but internally I’ve devolved into a mess, desperately scrambling to make sense of everything Mr. Holt’s telling me.
“I want you to know that even fifteen years later, not a day goes by when I don’t think about that night. I’m so sorry we weren’t able to rescue your mom, but I’m also so proud we were able to rescue you.”
I feel the tears hot on my cheeks before I’m even aware I’m crying. And then the couch dips behind me and a strong pair of arms wrap around my waist.
Brodie.
Turning toward him, I bury my face against his chest, savoring his familiarity like it’s giving me life. My body shakes, the sobs coming from somewhere deep, the sheer extremes of the day leaving me unable to do anything other than collapse.
There was nothing I could have done.
Nothing could have prevented Mom’s death.
And Brodie’s here. Right here. Holding me as tightly as I’m holding him.
Time passes. I hear Mr. Holt move away, the door opening and closing behind him with a soft click.
I remain in Brodie’s arms as he gently rocks me, his mouth pressing kisses to the top of my head, his hands stroking my arms, my back, my legs.
Eventually, he stills and I realize I’ve climbed fully into his lap.
I go to move away, but he holds me firm.
Our eyes meet.
“Before you say anything…” He swallows. “You need to know about your dad, Savannah. I love you so much, but he’ll come for everything important to you if I don’t walk away. I can’t—”
“You still love me despite everything that’s happened?” I cling to his shirt, pressing my hands against his pecs as if they can charge me up and restore everything the day has broken.
His eyes rove over me and his hands find their way to my face, rhythmically stroking my cheek and down to my jaw. “I will never stop loving—”
I don’t wait for him to finish, launching myself at him.
“I thought I’d lost you again. I didn’t know how I was going to survive.
” I press my mouth to his. Kissing him hard.
Almost brutal. Unleashing a million pent-up feelings.
“We can talk later. You don’t need to worry about Dad.
I spoke to him. It will all…” I hold his face, kissing him again.
“Please. I need you, Brodie. We’re a team, remember? ”
Wrapping my arms around him, I claw frantically at his hair, desperate to take every ounce of him.
And then the momentum shifts. His thigh muscles knot and tense under me, pushing my legs wide as his mouth finds mine, his tongue plunging deep.
Suddenly, it’s both of us fighting for ownership.
Our bodies rocking against one another. Knowing what we—
“Jeez, you two. Get a room,” Springer’s voice calls out from the doorway, yanking us apart. And just in time as Brodie’s mother comes hustling in.
I scoot off Brodie, grappling with my tee to straighten out the crumples.
Brodie clears his throat. “What’s up?”
“It’s late. I’ve set things up for you all to stay the night.” Mrs. Holt remains in the doorway. “Savannah will sleep in your old room. Nix can be in Brock’s. You and Brock are bunking with Brad. I’ve given him the inflatable beds to make up.”
Brodie rolls his eyes. “Mom. I’m twenty-five. You can’t seriously expect me to sleep—”
“Nice try, but no. My roof, my rules.”
“But—”
“Dude.” Springer shoots a shut the fuck up look at Brodie.
I stifle a chuckle by pretending to yawn.
“Right. That’s settled. I’m making us all some fancy hot chocolate, then it’s lights out. Whatever you two still need to… discuss… you can save it for tomorrow.” Mrs. Holt waves vaguely in the direction of the two of us and then marches out.
Springer smirks. “You two all okay then?”
I don’t know what he said to Brodie outside, but I’m guessing Mr. Holt’s right and he knocked some sense into his little brother. This time, in a good way.
I step over to him, pulling him into a hug. “Thank you. I mean it.”
He lets me hug him for a moment longer and then shrugs me off, color in his cheeks again. “It’s fine. But don’t go all fucking soft on me, East.” He glances over at Brodie. “You good, little bro, or do you need longer for your boner to go down?”
“I’m all good. Seeing Savannah hugging you helped on that front.” Brodie stands, straightening out his jeans. “What I’m not happy about is Mom treating me like I’m—”
“Bro, if you don’t want to be treated like a kid, stop having a hissy fit. Wait for Mom to go to bed and then sneak into your room. She already knows that’s exactly what you’ll do. You know Mom. As long as she can tell herself she’s done the right thing, she’s good.”
“Ah, the wisdom of the older brother.” I grin.
“Exactly. At least someone appreciates me.” Springer disappears back through the door.
I turn to Brodie. “You okay?”
“Yeah. I think so.”
Whispers of the day cling to me, swirling in my subconscious and battling for me to hear them. “Did you know about your dad? That he attended the fire?”
“First I heard was with your dad this morning.”
“My dad knows?”
“Yeah.”
“How? What did he say?”
Brodie sighs. “He was so insistent on keeping us apart and it just didn’t make sense.
Not this time around. So I pushed him to tell me why he hates me so much.
That’s when he told me about my dad and the fire.
” He shrugs. “After I left his hotel, I went to the library, and after a fair bit of digging, I located the report from the hearing. Ended up here. Dad had no idea the little girl was you.” Brodie falters, his voice cracking.
“It all made sense at last. It’s not that there’s something wrong with me.
Or that I’m not good enough for you. It’s actually got nothing to do with me. ”
Fresh tears fall from my eyes. “I’m so sorry for everything my dad’s put you through. If I’d known… I should have protected you. Put a stop to it all.”
“Savannah, no. Nothing here is your fault.” He kisses the top of my head. “But we do need to talk more. Especially about what your dad threatened to do.”
“I know, but later. Please. I don’t want to think about him anymore.”
“You sure? His warnings felt real, Sav. I’m worried for you. For your job.”
“Look, when I saw Dad at lunch something changed between the two of us. I don’t really know how best to describe it, but when I found out what he’s been doing…
” I take a sip of air. “It was like the power shifted between us.” Pulling Brodie close, I hold him tight.
“I honestly don’t think he’s going to act on whatever he threatened, but if he does, I know we have a better chance at handling it side by side. ”
There’s still so much to unpick. So many threads to make sense of. So many things I need to share and questions I need answers to.
But it can all wait.
We’re what matters.
And, despite everything that’s been hurled at us, we’re still together.