Chapter 14 The night of the fire #2
I’m used to this kind of biting comments from these two. And I refuse to feel bad about working hard. Granted, more than half of the money I have comes from my late husband’s estate. But the other half is from good old-fashioned hard work and dedication.
So many times, I offered to help them out financially. Only for them to refuse and throw some kind of snide remark my way. And I’m over it. They have crossed a line this time. Getting involved with an MLM is one thing. But this??
“It doesn’t matter what you meant,” I bite out, heat rising. “It matters what you’ve done.”
Pete stares, pointed. “What do you plan to do with all of this?”
“I should go to the police,” I state firmly but then sigh. “But the last thing I want is for Maggie to lose her parents. So, I came here to offer help. I won’t say anything about what I found out if you put a stop to this right now. No questions asked.”
Pete slams his hand against the wall. “NO!” I flinch.
I’m stunned at his outburst, but also his refusal to consider that what he is doing is immoral is something I can’t get past. Is he so blinded by greed? “No?” Shock courses through me at his stubbornness.
“You heard me.” He closes the distance slowly, each step deliberate. Cold eyes rip into me. Unblinking. Like he’s already decided the ending to this little argument. “And now, you’re not going anywhere,” he hisses.
An amused chuckle leaves my lips. “I’m not going anywhere?” Mockingly, I throw his words back at him. “Are you serious, Pete? You can’t keep me here. You sound like a crazy person.”
I take a second and really study this man.
My brother. The only other person on the planet who remembers my parents when they were young and our grandparents before they passed.
The one who would secretly flush my mom’s gross beef stew down the toilet for me so that I didn’t have to sit at the table all night.
My brother, who covered for me when I snuck out to meet my boyfriend when I was fifteen.
Somewhere along the way, life’s hardened him. He’s different. I’ve known that for a while now, and maybe I was too afraid to notice. But at this moment, I see him. I really see him. And I don’t like the dishonest and scary person staring back at me.
My only sibling and I stand off in this house. A house paid for with tainted money and greed. I refuse to be here for another second. I’m done. Frantically, I bend to pick up the papers.
Jenny finally speaks up. “Let her go, honey.” Reaching for each paper, I keep my eyes glued to the table.
She sounds so sad. And defeated.
Who knows? Maybe she’s done living this lie. It can’t be easy. The deceit. But her feelings are the least of my worries right now. I’ve gotta get out of here and decide on my next move.
In a split second, my brother yanks my arm, hard. His masculine grip tightens like nothing I’ve ever experienced as his fingers dig into my flesh. “Diane, stop! Let’s sit down and talk about this.”
Oh, now he wants to talk after he threatened to keep me here. Yeah, okay. Not happening.
Twisting my arm, I attempt to get out of his grasp, but his grip only tightens. His meaty fingers dig in more, the pressure sharp and painful.
“Let me go!” I snap, full of both fear and anger.
He doesn’t.
The tension snaps. It’s electric with panic. He pins me with a look; his jaw hardens as my first, clumsy tug at his grip does nothing. I yank back again, but his hold only tightens. Fear heats my palms.
Desperate, I drag my nails across his skin. Sharp and frantic. Anything to make him loosen his fingers so I can get the heck out of this house.
Crimson red streaks appear on his forearm. He stumbles back and yelps, freeing me while jerking his arm away.
And knocking the candle over in the process. It wobbles and then topples off the mantle. Wax splatters, and in an instant, the flame catches on the edge of the curtain.
The scent of cinnamon thickens as Jenny screams. My pulse spikes, and horror roots me to the spot for half a second before I see it. Flames racing across the room, faster than anything I’ve ever seen. My stomach drops.
“Get water!” I shout, snatching up a throw blanket and beating at the fire, but it’s useless. All I did was make it worse. The flames leap wildly, devouring the drapes in seconds, turning them to ash before crawling across the floor, hungry for more.
“Jenny, where is the extinguisher?!” Pete screams while opening the hall closest. They scramble, searching.
Abandoning the blanket, and passing Pete and Jenny, I run to the kitchen. Desperation fills me as I open a cabinet and find a bucket. I throw it under the faucet and turn it on.
This is taking too long! I glance back, and the flames and the walls are engulfed, glowing orange and red as the fire eats everything it touches.
Panic surges inside me as smoke fills the space.
Fast. My throat tightens, and the cough that erupts out of me is uncontrollable.
Frantically, through the smoke, I search for my brother and sister-in-law.
Nothing we do is going to help. There’s only one thing we can do.
“We have to get out!” I yell over the crackling, popping and hissing from the inferno.
Pete sprints to the kitchen and whips open a drawer, yanking out a box, an envelope, and a money bag maybe. I don’t know.
Out of my periphery, Jenny dashes to the mudroom, grabbing a bag from a hook to help. Pete shoves everything inside. I guess they didn’t find the extinguisher. “I can’t leave this!” Sheer panic and despair paint his features. And Jenny is right by his side.
Is this what he has become? His house is going up in flames fast, and possessions are the only thing he’s thinking about. Not his wife. Not his sister. But stuff.
“Forget it! Leave it!” I yank Jenny’s wrist. “We have to move!”
But she jerks away and sprints back to the living room. To the fire. With her arm up, she covers her mouth and coughs through the smoke. She reaches for something on the mantel. A vase, followed by some more breakables. “Give me a minute!” she screams through a strangled cough.
The fire roars, loud and relentless. A hungry beast swallowing everything.
Thick black smoke surrounds us, increasing with each passing second.
My lungs burn, and it’s getting so much harder to breathe.
Terror and panic crash over me, flooding my chest. The heat from the flames is becoming too much.
It is too much.
I try one last time.
I beg.
I plea.
“Come on! Please!” Tears sting my eyes. Not just from the smoke, but from fear. And sadness.
My brother’s scream cuts through the black smoke and flames.
“Jenny, run upstairs and empty the safe!” he commands.
“Get the cash, and I’ll grab the file box.
We can’t leave that behind. Hurry!” He’s charging up the steps now, dragging the bag weighed down with more things they have added.
Jenny is sobbing, too far gone to listen to my pleas as she follows Pete to the second floor and they disappear from view.
I stumble back, choking as my vision blurs. The heat is unbearable. The entire room is the glow of fire spreading fast, devouring everything.
Covering my mouth with my shirt, I crouch down on all fours and attempt to get my bearings.
Surveying the surroundings, I realize my sole means of escape is the back porch sliding door.
The pathway there is narrow. And if I go now, I can make it.
The flames and smoke engulfing the first floor will consume me if I wait another second.
Rose’s face fills my mind, and pure adrenaline pushes me forward. I am not going to die in this house. I am not leaving my daughter!
Determination propels me as I crawl to my only means of escape.
I reach and grab the handle. Heat sizzles my flesh as I cry out, flipping my hand from the pain.
Without any time to think, I whip off my shirt and wrap it around my hand.
“I’m sorry,” I apologize, knowing Pete and Jenny won’t hear me.
“I’m so, so sorry.” Regret seeps into me, thick and suffocating like the smoke, leaving no room to breathe.
If I hadn’t come over, this would have never happened.
Now, in only my bra and jeans, I slide open the door and burst outside.
Instantly, fresh air fills my lungs. A coughing fit follows, and I sprint to the backyard, then collapse onto the cool grass.
But I don’t stay on the ground long. I leap up, throw my shirt back on, and make a beeline for the neighbor’s next door.
I find them already on the front lawn, mouths gaping open as thick black smoke pours out of the home. “Call 911!” I scream.
The woman hands me her phone. “Here. They are already on the line.”
I yank the phone from her and immediately start barking commands to the dispatcher.
“Hurry! You have to send help! My brother and his wife are inside. The whole house is burning!” I’m coughing like crazy, and it’s hard to breathe.
Then the dizziness starts. Everything blurs and spins around me.
Chaos envelopes the entire neighborhood.
The dispatcher says something, but I don’t hear her. “What?!” I yell into the phone.
Her reply doesn’t register because the last thing I hear is the crack of timber and Jenny’s scream that follows.
Glass shatters as the entire house erupts in a ball of flames.
The phone falls from my grasp and sinks into the lawn. The world narrows to heat and smoke as I drop to my knees.
Watching it burn.