Page 90 of The Bartender's Baby

My heart ached as I replayed the hurt in her eyes when I had called her frigid in a moment of frustration. I didn’t mean it.She had hurt me, calling me needy, which I was sure she hadn’t meant either. But goddamn, that was the one thing to knock me down. Straight back to when I was a kid, crying and emotional, my parents arguing, feeling entirely inadequate all over again.

It didn’t excuse anything, but I was upset, and I knew she was upset.

The irony was neither one of us wanted to argue, neither one of us wanted to hurt the other. I could tell from how she winced and curled in on herself. She would never purposely say anything to cause me harm. We were both just…learning how to be new parents with shorter tempers than usual from too little sleep and not enough time together.

Tabby had experienced so much pain already; it was a miracle she trusted me at all. Even now, after everything we had been through together, she struggled to say those three little words that I so desperately longed to hear.

Sure, she’d said them once, but Iwasneedy. I was a needy bastard who didn’t want to share and required all her attention. She was mine. I was hers. And that’s all there was to it.

I huffed, rubbing my temples. This wasn’t even that big of a deal. We would have a few conversations about this and hopefully put the issue to bed, but with how much stress we were under, it felt bigger than it really was.

It wasn’t like I didn’t believe she loved me.

This was only our insecurities making us assholes.

“Fuck me,” I murmured, checking the time on my cell phone. After two in the morning. George would be waking up soon for his middle-of-the-night feeding. I hoped Tabby had gotten some sleep.

God, I was such a dick. I shouldn’t have left her. She was probably still up, never having gone to bed. She’d told me one night she had trouble sleeping without me next to her.

I was such an asshole.

I should be at home. I should’ve just talked it out tonight. But here I was in my fucking office like a coward.

Crack.

I whirled around in my chair, my brooding thoughts interrupted by the loud sound. I frowned, listening closer. More popping and crackling noises, like electricity arcing. And there was an acrid, burned smell in the air too now. My hackles rose. Something was very wrong.

I hurried out from the cramped office toward the front of the bar. The smell grew stronger, and thin wisps of smoke began wafting through the air vents above. A feeling of dread settled in my gut.

A snap sounded directly above me, and I reflexively covered my head, even though nothing fell. “Shit,” I muttered, realizing what was happening. “Fire.”

I had been told that I needed a new HVAC system here. That this one was old and I’d probably have to replace the insulation as well. But I’d kept pushing it off and pushing it off.

It was only a minor inconvenience with the heating and cooling.

But this was no minor inconvenience anymore.

This was my livelihood literally up in flames.

Adrenaline flooded my system instantly. I had to get out of here, fast.

I sprinted for the front door, fumbling to pull my phone out of my pocket with one hand, intent on calling 9-1-1. Flames were already spreading through the ceiling. The thick smoke choked my lungs and burned my eyes.

Thank god Bran had left when he did.

As I neared the front entrance, a flaming plank crashed down in front of me, blocking my nearest escape route. The fire roared to life, consuming the wooden beams with ravenous ferocity.

Panic surged through me, and I pivoted, looking for another way out. I scrambled toward the back exit, but with the thick smoke, I had trouble seeing and breathing. I pulled my shirt over my mouth and nose, coughing violently. The heat was unbearable.

The sharp crash of another beam collapsing came from behind me, and pain flared in my leg. I yelped, falling to the floor, bending to see a fiery piece of something lodged in my pant leg.

All those lessons in elementary school came back to me. I stopped, dropped, and rolled for my life, gasping for air through the searing pain in my leg.

I had to get the fuck out of here.

I had to get back to Tabby, to the baby.

My eyes stung, tears forming from the smoke and whatever the hell had happened with my leg.

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