Page 19 of Inferno

Inferno walks around the Jetta, and I take my cell out of my purse.

“What are you doing?”

“Calling the police.”

He looks like he wants to argue with me, and he even opens and closes his mouth several times like a damn fish out of water. But he says nothing as he nods.

It only takes several minutes for an officer to arrive, and as soon as the squad car enters the parking lot, Inferno mysteriously disappears. I don’t give it much thought as I make a report and answer all of the officer’s questions.

“Sorry about that,” Inferno states when he comes back outside seconds after the cop leaves.

I shrug. “Don’t worry about it. You’re on the clock.”

“Not anymore, I’m not,” he informs me. “I wanted to finish up real fast so I can take you home.”

“Take me home?”

“Gotta get there somehow, right?”

I lift my cell and shake it. “I was just gonna call an Uber.”

Inferno smiles, and I swear the night sky lights up like it’s high noon. “Save your money. I don’t mind giving you a ride.”

“I, well…”

He lifts his hands in a gesture meant to reassure me. “I don’t bite. And it’s just a ride.”

He’s right. I’m being ridiculous. It’s not as if he’s a total stranger.

“Yeah, okay.”

Making sure my car is locked, I wait while Inferno locks the building, and then follow him to his motorcycle. I’ve never been on one, but I’ve always wanted to.

Something to cross off my bucket list I suppose.

Inferno hands me a helmet and helps me get it situated on my head. He grins as he taps the top of it.

“Cute.”

I groan. “Just what every girl wants to hear… that she’s cute.”

“Beautiful,” he says, but he sounds more like a question than a statement.

“That’s a little better.”

“Now, once we get going, I’m gonna need you to hold on tight, okay?”

Every single one of my synapses trigger my internal alarms, and I’m thrust back in time.

I’m gonna need you to hold your breath, okay?

I don’t know if it’s being trapped in the helmet like I was trapped in the fire, or if it’s my memories finally putting all the puzzle pieces together, but the similar phrasing sends me stumbling backward.

“Emmy?” Inferno asks, concern and confusion filling his dark eyes.

I yank the helmet off my head and toss it at him. “Y-you… but…” Scrubbing my hands over my face, I silently pray that this is all a dream, and I’ll wake up at any second. When Inferno remains in front of me, I can’t help but wonder if I’m finally cracking. “You’re dead.”

Inferno’s face pales, but he quickly recovers. “Clearly, I’m not.”