Page 26 of Burn for You

chapter eleven

MAY

“I’m fine.Look at her first.”

“Sir, we need to check out your hand,” a paramedic says from behind me while another grabs my arm under my elbow and leads me from Rafael’s car towards the ambulance.

The firefighters showed up within five minutes of Rafael’s call—perks of living in a small town, I guess—and all I could do was sit there and watch through the window as the one place that felt like my home went up in flames. I’ve never truly felt like I had a place I could call home, a place that felt right, like I belonged there. Nowhere except in the pages of a book. Not until this cottage. And now it’s gone.

I watched as the firefighters hosed gallons of water onto the fire, drowning my home. Maybe this is the universe's sick way of telling me I don’t deserve to have a place of my own, that maybe I don’t belong here after all.

“I don’t care,” Rafael spits, bringing my focus back to the moment. The paramedics arrived soon after the firefighters, and now that the cottage is singed to black on one side, they want to check us out.

“We have someone looking after your friend,she?—”

“She’s not my friend. She’s…”

I look over my shoulder to see him looking at me with such conflict in his eyes. I’ve never seen this look on him. Just like I’ve never seen the look he gave me in the house. I’ve never heard such words come off his tongue.

It’s alright. You’re alright, I’ve got you.

You’re safe. You’re safe.

“Okay, whatever she is to you, my friend is looking after her. You really need to let me get a look at that hand.”

As we sat waiting in his truck, I noticed the blisters forming on the palm of his hand. He must have burnt his palm when he opened the front door. That’s what I’m assuming, at least. He didn’t say anything about it. In fact, he hasn’t said much at all.

The paramedic that has his hand under my arm turns me around, helping me sit down, and I hate to admit I need his help. My body feels so weak, my legs feel like jelly in a bowl that is being shaken around, and my hands won’t stop trembling. I’m afraid if I tried to take a step on my own, I might collapse.

I catch Rafael’s gaze. I don’t try to use my eyes to convince him that I’m okay, because I think he knows I won’t be for a while. I don’t think he will be either.

“Stop fighting with the paramedic, Rafael,” I say before I cough.

Rafael takes an instinctive step forward. Two, before he’s in front of me, pushing the paramedic aside and crouching down before me.

His hands rest on the tops of my thighs as he inspects me, his eyes raking over every single inch of my skin, taking in the soot that I can feel in my hair, and that I’m sure is smudged across my face.

Our eyes meet, and I hold my breath. Something feels different all of a sudden, like this might be the thing that changes things between us. Because in this moment, I can’t feel anything other than gratitude towards Rafael.

I cough, forgetting to breathe when he’s this close to me. When I can feel his fingertips on the warm skin of my thighs.

“She’s inhaled so much smoke. You need to give her oxygen or something.”

The paramedic leans down next to him, getting on his level. “I was just about to give her a check over. If you move aside, I can do that for her.”

Rafael looks back at me, his eyes pleading, but I don’t know what for. A deep rumbling interrupts us and my eyes drift to where Marina’s bike rolls around the corner towards us.

When I look back at Rafael, he’s still looking at me, the sound not dragging his attention away from me. He blinks, as if clearing his mind before he stands, finally moving away, the paramedic filling his spot in front of me, and I can’t help but wish he’d stayed for a few seconds more.

“It lookslike most of the damage is in the kitchen,” the inspector says. “You’ve got the all-clear to get in there today. I’d say the damage will take around two months to get everything cleared away and then get your kitchen fixed up, but that’s just a guess. You’ll need to talk to a contractor about that.”

“Thank you,” Marina says, walking the guy over to his car.

I finally let out the breath I feel like I’ve been holding since last night. I close my eyes, but they snap open a second later. Every time I blink, I can see flames flaring in the darkness behind my eyes. Every time I swallow, I can taste fear and ash, and it burns as it goes down.

“What am I going to do?” I ask Isla, who’s standing next to me, surveying the damage. My voice is a bit more watery than I intended.

She wraps her arm around my side. “You know I wouldalways offer a room at Hotel Dolce, but we have been completely booked up since mid-August with Ferragosto and everything…”

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