Page 13 of Fire

“Thank you for the call, Mrs. Weathers.”

“Have a nice day, Miss Cole.”

I hear a bright, “Bye Mommy! See you soon!” before the call ends. I keep the phone pressed to my ear as I pause in front of my car. My hands are full and my keys are in my purse. I shift, trying to manage everything so I can put my phone away and unlock my car when the handles rip off two bags at once. Cans, eggs, a gallon of milk, they crash to the pavement while I stagger back, barely catching my phone before I trip over a pack of pudding cups and fall on my ass.

My teeth clack together. Pain shoots up my spine.

I hear the condescension in Julian’s voice, reminding me that I can’t do anything without him propping me up. I smell the charred wood of Nell’s room. The smoke billowing out her door. The nurse. My parents. The broken eggs spilling across the pavement. Thunder rattles my bones.

I can’t breathe.

My lips tingle.

My eyes burn.

My chest heaves.

I can’t…

I can’t…

How am I…?

What am I gonna…?

Oh my God, what’s gonna happen to me?

Get yourself together, you stupid idiot! Julian’s voice or mine, who knows, but it’s in my head and that’s the last straw.

I push up on my hands and knees, gathering my groceries as tears stream down my cheeks.

My name echoes across the parking lot. A deep voice that feels like home. I smile reflexively, suddenly certain everything is going to be okay, only to look up and find Micah Hutton coming my way.

CHAPTER FIVE

Micah

The clatter of cans hitting the ground pulls me up short as I hop out of my truck into a fucking humid ass day. There’s a storm on the horizon and it looks apocalyptic.

“That sucks,” I murmur, craning my neck to see whoever dropped a week’s worth of food in the parking lot. Most of it is probably salvageable, but no one likes picking groceries off the pavement. Even in September, concrete gets hot in the Keys.

I lean on my truck, pulling my phone out of my pocket to shoot Tucker a text.

I’ll be at your house in a few.

Tucker

Sure, sure. Threaten the injured guy

Guess I’ll look for someone else who needs bags full of toys and food for his family then

How long can I take advantage of your misplaced guilt before I start being the asshole in this situation?

A choked sob comes from somewhere in the parking lot. Feminine. Small. I furrow my brows as wind rips the sound away, then give my attention back to my conversation with Tucker.

Start? Dude. You’ve always been the asshole

The phone goes back in my pocket, and I head for the store before the rain unleashes holy hell. Rounding the corner, I find a woman on her hands and knees, wiping tears from her cheeks as she gathers scattered groceries off the pavement. A can rolls my way and I stop it with a foot at the same time my brain puts together the pieces of the picture in front of me.

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