Chapter 18
Palmer
Iwoke with a start.
My head snapped up; my eyes darted around the unfamiliar room, heart thudding. For a moment, I couldn’t remember where I was. I squinted at the light, my body bent in an uncomfortable position.
Then I saw Roman.
He was lying on the bed beside me, closer than I remembered. He must have shifted toward me; his face was only inches away. The warm brush of his breath ghosted over our entwined hands.
I was still sitting on the floor beside the bed, fully dressed, my side pressed awkwardly against the mattress. My neck throbbed when I moved, a dull ache spreading down my spine from sleeping at the wrong angle.
I should have gone to my room hours ago.
The lamp cast a soft glow across the room. Roman’s features were softer in sleep; his dark hair fell across his forehead, and my fingers ached to push it back.
But I didn’t. I needed to get out of here before I actually did something embarrassing like that.
Carefully, I tried to slide my hand out of his.
His fingers tightened instantly.
Biting my lower lip, I stared down at our hands. It would be so easy to stay. To sit here a little longer and pretend this quiet moment meant something more than it did.
I had to go.
Slowly, I twisted my wrist and tried again, easing my hand back. Roman’s grip was stubborn even in sleep, but eventually his fingers loosened enough for me to pull away.
The moment I slipped free, Roman shifted.
My stomach dropped as his eyes fluttered open, heavy and unfocused. I winced.
“Sorry,” I murmured.
He blinked at me, groggy and disoriented.
“Where are you going?” His voice was a low rasp.
The sound of it made the muscles low in my stomach coil.
“I-I should go to my own room,” I stammered.
His brows pulled together, as if he were about to argue. I thought he might tell me to stay.
He didn’t, though I lingered for a beat, waiting.
When nothing came, I cleared my throat and pushed myself to my feet. My body protested, stiff and sore. “I’ll check on you in the morning.”
Roman didn’t move. He watched me quietly from the bed, his expression hazy with sleep.
My gaze lingered on him. He was still in his work clothes.
A small frown pulled at my lips. “You should change into something more comfortable,” I said gently.
Before I could give myself time to second-guess the decision, I turned and walked toward the door.
My hand closed around the knob when his voice stopped me.
“Good night, Golden.”
Heat rushed straight to my face. That ridiculous nickname.
I’d thought he would forget about it once the fever faded.
“Good night.”
The first pale light of dawn bled across the snow as I cradled my tea in both hands, letting the warmth seep into my cold fingers.
Since leaving Roman’s room, I hadn’t slept at all.
I stared out the kitchen window at the backyard, barely seeing it as turmoil ravaged my mind.
The memory of Roman’s hand against my cheek, and the way his voice had dropped when he called me Golden replayed in my mind. I couldn’t focus on sleep when I saw nothing but his fevered gaze dragging over me every time I closed my eyes.
I swallowed hard, setting my mug down on the counter even harder. I tugged at the sleeves of my sweater without thinking, pulling them down over my palms.
Under the fabric, my scars felt heavy and impossible to ignore. Shame prickled hot under my skin.
Even if Roman ever wanted me, he had no idea what I really looked like beneath layers of fabric. He didn’t know about the twisted, raised skin that webbed across my arms and legs. There was no way he’d find that attractive.
A pang of sorrow pierced through me.
Why did things suddenly feel so much more complicated?
I sighed. Perhaps when Roman was better, and the fever was long gone, he’d forget all about those moments in his bedroom.
A sharp, irritated meow broke through my thoughts.
I glanced down at Phantom batting furiously at the back door, his tiny paws scrabbling on the wood.
A small, reluctant smile tugged at my lips.
I set my mug on the counter and crossed the kitchen in stockinged feet, unlocking the back door and cracking it open. Cold air rushed in, biting at my skin.
“Go on,” I murmured.
Phantom darted outside without hesitation, his gray tail flicking as he disappeared into the woods. He liked to roam a bit a couple of times a day. Roman and I probably wouldn’t go to the gym later, so it was good for him to burn off some energy now.
He wore his collar, and he never strayed far.
I closed the door with a shiver, wrapping my arms around myself as I stepped back into the warmth of the kitchen.
As I turned away from the door, something crunched under my heel.
I gasped and jumped back, lifting my foot. Another dead butterfly lay crumpled on the tile.
For a long moment, I simply stared at it.
Where was Phantom finding butterflies in the middle of winter?
A flicker of unease slid through me, but my head was already too crowded with thoughts of Roman, of last night, and of things I wasn’t ready to unpack.
With a small sigh, I crouched and carefully swept up the brittle remains with a paper towel, trying not to look at them too closely before tossing everything into the trash.
Outside, dawn continued to creep in. Inside, my heart was tangled and confused. I couldn’t allow myself to get attached here. That was my promise. My vow.
But it was becoming so much harder to keep. Every time Roman got close to me, every time Hailey looked at me with her sweet, trusting eyes—that promise felt like it was burning away.
It would be nothing but ash soon.
The kitchen was suddenly too small and tight, as if the walls were inching closer with every breath I took.
I needed space.
Without really thinking, I shoved my feet into my boots and yanked the back door open, stepping out into the frozen morning.
The bitter air sliced into my lungs, but the pain helped.
I dragged in another breath. Then another. Each exhale misted in front of me, white and trembling. The cold cleared my head enough that the panic loosened its grip.
It was going to be fine. I wasn’t falling for anyone. I wrapped my sweater tighter around myself and scanned the backyard for Phantom.
I didn’t see him, but his tiny footprints led toward the tree line.
Then my gaze tracked up, and my stomach dropped so violently I swayed.
Smoke, thick and black, rose into the dawn-lightened sky like a harbinger of destruction.
For a split second, my brain refused to process it. The world tilted as the smell hit me a heartbeat later. A burning, acrid stench dug its claws into my mind, ripping me back through time.
My vision blurred as memories crashed forward without warning: heat pressing against my skin, flames licking at walls, smoke stealing oxygen from my lungs.
Dizziness washed over me so hard I nearly went to my knees. I gripped the railing of the back porch, knuckles whitening.
I forced myself to breathe.
In.
Out.
The smoke was close. Too close. I blinked hard, forcing myself to focus past the trees.
The smoke rose from beyond them, from about where the Hearthstone office building stood. And Phantom’s little footprints were headed straight for it.
My breath left me in a broken gasp, and without thinking, I started to run. My boots pounded the frozen ground, snow crunching beneath each frantic step as my heart slammed against my sternum.
This could not be happening.
But the closer I got, the less room there was for denial. Dark smoke rolled upward in heavy waves.
I stopped short on the slope downward, slipping as the building finally came into view. A wave of heat rushed over me, and I forgot to breathe. The modern glass windows were smeared with soot; smoke poured from somewhere inside, but I didn’t see any visible flames from the back.
I needed to call Roman.
The thought hit me as something else registered: a sharp, desperate yowling penetrated through the sounds of the fire.
Phantom.
My gaze snapped toward the back door, the door we used every morning to go to the gym. The same door Phantom always clawed at as he waited for Roman and me to catch up and let him inside. That cat was obsessed with this place.
And one of the rear windows was busted open, giving him easy access inside.
I stepped closer to the building, fear prickling the back of my neck slick with sweat. The crying was constant and insistent and coming from right inside. My chest ached as I panted.
That stupid kitten was going to burn to death.
Hailey would be crushed.
Swallowing down my fear, I stepped even closer, trying to peer inside the shattered window. It was dark, but the smoke seemed to be coming from the front of the building. Still, fire spread fast and it wouldn’t be long until the entire structure was engulfed.
I reached for my phone, but found my pockets devastatingly empty. A vivid image of my phone sitting on the counter in the kitchen flashed through my mind. I was such an idiot.
There wasn’t enough time to go back for it. I had to hope someone had called the fire in, or that Roman had somehow noticed.
But in the back of my mind, I knew it was too early. Most people weren’t awake yet.
Phantom cried again, and I couldn’t ignore him any longer. I rushed to the back door and typed in the code, flinging it open. Smoke curled up to the ceiling, and I crouched low in the doorway, staring desperately inside.
He couldn’t be far.
The haze of smoke and the smell turning my stomach all threatened to tear me back to that night in my dorm room. Warm air rushed over me, thick and bitter, but I fought the terror to focus on the silly kitten that Hailey loved with all her heart. I had to at least try.
“Phantom?” I called his name, praying to whoever would listen that the animal would come to me.
My throat started to close at the first hint of smoke, and I crouched even lower, pulling my shirt up over my mouth and nose. I coughed anyway.
Using a large landscaping rock, I wedged it under the heavy door until it stayed wide open. I wasn’t going to get stuck in there.
There was another frantic yowl, and it was close. Huddled as low to the floor as I could, I stepped into the back hallway, blinking through the fog of smoke that stung my eyes.
I didn’t have to go far inside before I caught sight of him.
Relief flooded me as the small, trembling fuzzy ball pressed up against one of the office doors in the hallway.
I shuffled closer, keeping low to the floor. The smoke thickened farther down the hallway.
We needed to get out of here immediately.
“It’s okay,” I rasped. “Come here. Phantom, come here, baby.”
He didn’t move. His body was low to the ground—tail puffed, ears flattened. Smoke swirled around him.
“It’s okay,” I whispered, inching forward.
Then something popped and crashed. The sound echoed off the walls like it was coming from every direction. I was startled, but so was that cat.
Phantom bolted.
He flew down the hallway, away from me and toward the thickening smoke. I panicked, following him without thinking, convinced I could catch him if I was fast enough.
I wasn’t.
The smoke smothered me as I moved farther in. It burned and blurred my vision.
Phantom stopped at the end of the hall where a metal door separated the offices from the front lobby.
He was trembling. Smoke poured from every little gap in the door, like it was holding back a torrent of flames.
If I could grab him fast enough, safety was a straight shot back through the rear exit.
My pulse thundered as I came up to the kitten. He had nowhere else to go and all I had to do was scoop him up—but my foot caught on something and I pitched forward.
I threw my hands out to catch myself. They closed around the lever of the metal door.
White-hot pain exploded through my palms.
I wrenched my hands away, but it was already too late. The damage had been done.
My palms throbbed. I stared at them through blurred, watering eyes. They were red and already swelling.
I scrambled backward, lungs aching and head spinning, as I fought the terror and pain. I suddenly couldn’t register where the kitten had gone.
“Phantom!” I choked. “Please—I can’t—I can’t—”
I was back in the dorm hallway.
Back in that heat.
Back in that smoke.
For one endless, horrible second, nothing but silence and heat answered.
“Please,” I whispered, the panic and the past thrashing within me. “Please come to me.”
A small, terrified blur shot out from somewhere to my right. Phantom collided with my knees, claws digging into my jeans as he tried to climb me. Relief shattered me.
I cradled him up against my chest, ignoring the way my palms screamed in protest. I shoved him under my sweater, holding him tight.
The hallway was darker now. Hotter.
I staggered toward the back door, half blind, coughing so hard I thought I might throw up. My legs were weak.
I rushed through the doorway into the freezing morning air.
The cold hit me like a slap.
I stumbled as far away from the fire as I could and collapsed into the snow, Phantom clutched to me.
Cold wetness soaked through my jeans. My burned hands pressed into the snow, making me gasp at the biting contrast of ice and blistering heat.
I rolled onto my side, dragging in greedy lungfuls of clean air.
Phantom wriggled and pressed closer, trembling.
I didn’t realize I was crying until I tasted salt on my lips.
Smoke billowed in a dark plume above the trees, and I stared at it, bleary-eyed and dizzy.
But I was alive.