Page 18 of Burn for You

I twisted and rattled the door handle, but it remained firmly shut. That didn’t make sense. The lock was on the inside. It shouldn’t be stuck either.

The scent of smoke was stronger now, erasing any doubt that I’d been imagining it. I whirled around, searching the bathroom for anything I could use to pry the door open. Hair pins, a brush, a comb, a curling iron, shampoo, lotion, toothpaste…

None of it would do any good.

My heart hammered against my ribs and panic began to cloud my vision. No window, a blocked door, and no way out.

What the hell was happening right now?

Thick tendrils of smoke began to seep underneath the bathroom door. I grabbed my pajamas, yanking them back on. I shoved the towel under the faucet until it was damp then pressed it to my nose and mouth.

My phone. I needed my phone to call for help.

I scanned the counter. Where had I left it?

Then I remembered.

It was still on the nightstand. I’d put it there after I texted Seth.

I froze and stared at the door, kicking myself. My phone was less than six feet away, and there was nothing I could do to get to it.

A black cloud of smoke boiled overhead. My eyes watered, blurring my vision. Despite the damp towel pressed to my face, it couldn’t completely block out the effects of the smoke. My lungs burned and my throat felt like it had been stripped raw.

Desperate now, I shoved my shoulder against the door. There was no way I could break it down, but maybe a neighbor might hear me.

“Help!” I yelled.

The door washot. I could barely touch it.

Fire.

The one word blazed in my brain with horror. My house was on fire. And I was trapped inside. A fit of coughing wracked my body so hard that it felt like I was choking. I could barely see anything through the smoke now, and the heat emanating from the door made beads of sweat trickle down my spine.

I’m going to die in here.

No. I couldn’t—wouldn’t—give up. I met the whole damn fire department on Saturday night. They would come for me. I just had to hold out until they showed up.

Cranking the shower on to full blast, I hoped the water would tamp down some of the smoke. I huddled under the water’s icy spray, hugging my knees to my chest in an attempt to escape the oppressive heat. The flicker of firelight teased at the gap under the door.

Taking refuge under the shower wouldn’t be enough to survive the fire if it reached this far, but I was fresh out of options.

Distantly, I heard the wail of sirens. Relief flooded through me.

What felt like a lifetime later, the muffled sound of voices emanated through my house.

“Fire department! Is anyone here?”

I yelled as loud as I could, breaking off into another fit of coughing and wheezing. Darkness clouded the edges of my vision and it hurt to breathe. My chest felt tight and my skin was greasy from the smoke.

Then the door swung open and a firefighter stood on the threshold, covered head to toe in gear.

“Marlee?”

Seth’s voice, muffled by the mask covering his face. But I recognized those warm brown eyes.

A strangled sob tore from my throat at the sight of him. I felt like a small child as I held my arms out, practically as helpless as a baby. He dropped to his knees next to the tub, stripped off his mask, and placed it over my face.

“Breathe, sweetheart,” he said. “I’ve got you. It’s going to be okay.”

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