Chapter 1 #2
He grunts. "Small town. Word travels fast. Just try not to cause any trouble. Silver Lake's a nice, quiet place. We'd like to keep it that way."
My mouth falls open. "Wow. I just got here and you're already treating me like a walking disaster. That's some top-tier hospitality you've got there."
He shrugs like my opinion means nothing. "Seen it before. City girls come up here thinking it'll fix all their problems. Then they cause more trouble than they solve."
I narrow my eyes, irritation flaring hot.
"Oh, I'm sorry, did I accidentally sign up for the town welcome committee's asshole division?
Newsflash: I don't need your approval or your unsolicited life advice.
I'm perfectly capable of minding my own business without ruining your precious quiet town, you giant walking asshole. "
He stares me down, jaw tight. "Whatever you say, Red. Just stay out of trouble." Then he turns and walks away without another word, his broad back rigid with annoyance as he disappears down the next aisle.
My cheeks burn with a mix of irritation and something else I refuse to name. "Get it together, Sadie," I mutter to myself as I push my cart forward. "You just escaped a stalker. The last thing you need is to waste brain cells on the local mountain grump."
But I can't shake the weight of those eyes as I finish shopping and load my bags into the car.
The whole drive to the cabin, I keep catching myself glancing in the rearview mirror, not because I expect to see the grumpy firefighter, but because old habits die hard.
Four months of looking over my shoulder doesn't just disappear overnight.
But Ryan isn't here. He doesn't know where I am.
I'm safe.
Ten minutes later, I pull up to the cabin, and it's even better than the pictures.
Tucked right against the lake with a wide front porch, big windows that let in plenty of natural light, and a stone chimney that promises cozy nights by the fire.
I haul my suitcase and groceries inside, the wooden floors creaking warmly under my boots.
The place smells like cedar and fresh mountain air, absolutely perfect for unwinding and finally leaving all the bullshit behind.
I set the bags down in the kitchen and let out a long breath. For the first time in four months, the knot in my stomach loosens. This is going to be good. I can feel it.
I take my time unpacking, humming to myself as I put away the food and arrange my few toiletries in the bathroom.
I change into comfy leggings and an oversized flannel, letting my long auburn hair fall loose down my back.
Then I build a fire in the fireplace, proud as hell when it catches right away, and pour myself a generous glass of wine.
Sinking onto the couch with my phone, I start doom scrolling.
For the first time in months, I can finally breathe without worrying about Ryan constantly watching me.
I'm halfway through my second glass of wine, legs tucked under me, when I smell smoke. Like the idiot I apparently am, I take another sniff to confirm, and immediately start coughing.
I set the wine glass down and shoot to my feet, scanning the room for the source. Black tendrils of smoke curl from under the bedroom door. Then the fire alarm screams overhead. My heart slams against my ribs and I'm officially freaking out.
"Shit, shit, shit." I grab my phone off the coffee table and bolt for the front door, coughing harder as smoke fills the living room and invades my lungs.
My eyes are already stinging and watering.
Orange flames lick greedily up the walls, moving faster than I ever thought possible.
The heat pushes against my skin, so intense I know if I don't get out soon, I'm about to be a roasted potato.
I reach the door and grab the deadbolt, but the metal is already scorching. "Ow...fuck!" I yelp as it burns my palm, yanking my hand back.
I pull my flannel sleeve down over my fingers and try again, gripping the lock through the fabric. It won't budge. The mechanism feels stuck, swollen from the heat. I twist harder, panic rising sharp in my throat. "Come on, come on, open you stupid piece of shit!"
The smoke is getting thicker by the second.
Every breath burns. I'm coughing harder now, deep hacking coughs that make my chest ache.
My head feels fuzzy. Shit, what was that thing we learned in school?
Stop, drop, and roll? No wait, that's only if I'm on fire.
What the hell am I supposed to do if I'm not on fire but everything around me is?
I slam my shoulder against the door, but it doesn't budge.
Did I really expect it would? I've got no upper body strength, or lower body strength for that matter.
I should probably fix that and finally start working out.
Wrong time, Sadie, wrong fucking time. The heat is unbearable now and all I can hear is the fire roaring around me, closing in.
My vision blurs through streaming tears and I can barely see.
Then I hear it. Sirens. Faint at first, then louder, cutting through the night.
Thank God. I don't know how they got here so fast, but I'm not questioning it.
I start banging on the door with my good hand, the one that isn't burned.
"I'm in here!" I shout, my voice hoarse and cracking. "Help! Please!"
I keep pounding on the wood, desperate for them to hear me. "I can't get the door open! The deadbolt's stuck!"
Heavy footsteps thunder on the other side, followed by a deep, commanding voice. "Get back from the door! Move away now!"
The front door explodes inward with a deafening crack. A massive figure in turnout gear fills the frame, helmet low, face streaked with soot. "Out! Now!" he barks.
I stumble back, eyes watering. "I can get out myself…”
He doesn't waste time. One second I'm standing, the next a strong arm bands around my thighs and I'm hauled up and over his shoulder like I weigh nothing.
My full breasts press against his back, my curvy hips trapped against solid muscle.
The world tilts violently as he strides into the cold night air.
Terror still surges through me, but underneath it rolls a wave of pure relief. Thank God. I'm alive. I'm actually getting out of here alive.
He carries me across the yard and sets me down a safe distance from the burning cabin. I sway on my feet, coughing hard, my legs shaky beneath me. The cool night air shocks my overheated skin.
"Is there anyone else in there?" he asks urgently, his eyes scanning my face.
I shake my head, still coughing. "No… just me."
"Pets?"
"No. There's no one."
He gives me a quick nod, then immediately turns and runs back toward the cabin to join the rest of his crew.
I stand there catching my breath and finally take in the scene around me.
A firetruck sits at an angle in the driveway, lights flashing red and white across the trees.
An ambulance idles nearby with its back doors open.
There's also a black truck with "Silver Lake Fire Chief" printed on the side.