Page 52 of Burn for Me

I levelled a kick into the bag, a jangle greeting me. Time seemed to stop. The jingle sounded an awful lot like keys.

Glancing at Phoenix to ensure he slept, I knelt down and opened the bag. The phoenix clad gas mask sat at the top, worn and smoke stained. It sent a shiver through me, throwing me back to the night he took me.

Placing it on the floor, I raked through the bag until my fingers wrapped around the familiar metal shape of keys. Holding my breath, I extracted them from the bag and gripped them tightly. Adrenaline swooped through me,making my heart thunder as the keychain saying Old Bess glinted in the low lamp light.

The boat keys.

Could I figure out how to make it go? Could I get to someone who could help me?

I had to try.

Staying with Phoenix was confusing me. Making me desire things I had no business wanting.

I looked quietly through the rucksack, hoping to find a phone or some cash, but found neither. Damn it.

What I found were more tools of his trade. Pots withaccelerantwritten on the side in faded pen. Matches.

Were they the ones he used to burn my house down? To cover up for the devils crimes against me and my family?

Sweat slicked the back of my neck while my hands trembled, making the keys jingle.

Just go.

I ignored the urging of the little voice inside me, standing and opening the pot of strong smelling goop.

All it took was two minutes, and I’d spread it all around the bed. A moment of guilt clung onto me as I looked at the side of Phoenix’s scarred face. He’d escaped the fire once, and lost everything to it’s charring embrace.

My fingers slipped against the base of the match as I tore it from the book.

Was I any better than Massimo if I tried to torch Phoenix?

In the mirror on the dresser, I caught the faintest sight of the letters I’d tried to scrub from my skin. The backwards, barely visible BEG on my stomach.

‘Fuck you,’ I muttered.

The match hissed as I struck it against the textured strip, a flame sprinting into being.

I dropped it on the accelerant smeared bed covers, grabbed the keys, and ran down stairs.

On my way past the kitchen, I stuffed some snacks on the counter into a bag, and picked up the bowl of apples.

With the bedroom window glowing orange, I upended the bowl of apples on the ground as I headed for the boat.

‘Sorry, Muffin,’ I whispered. ‘I’ll miss you.’

TWENTY-SIX

Phoenix

The air cloyed in my mouth as I tossed on the bed, reaching out for Laura. A weight seemed to crush my chest with every breath. Turning my head, I willed myself to wake. Heat prickled across my skin, bubbling at the layer of sweat slicking my limbs together.

Fire.

The familiar crackle pulled me to consciousness with an abrupt bump.

I could barely open my eyes with the thick black smoke roiling around me, sinking its obsidian claws into me.

Laura.

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