Page 23 of Steamy Dreamy Hearts

“Captain,” I whispered, even though inside I wanted to scream. Sob. Cry.

I sprang forward, ignoring his last order. Let him kick my butt. Let him give me my walking orders. I wasn’t going to wait. The fire—growing in size and heat all around me—was not going to wait.

The house was surrounded by a wall of fire. There would only be a small chance to get Captain Smack. I had less than five minutes to assess the chances of the house collapsing before I could do it. My brain immediately did the calculations of wherethe fire was, how old the house might be, and how I’d exit once inside.

“Captain,” I yelled into the radio.

Only static. Panicked, I flung the radio down and raced into the house.

It was pitch-black inside, no way to see.

“Captain Smack!” I shouted. “Please!”

Answer me, I prayed. Smack could not be dead. He had to be okay. Erin could not become an orphan. I could not lose my captain.

Emotions all jumbled together as I went deeper into the house. Somewhere in the living room, maybe. It was so fucking dark.

I bumped into a couch and pivoted right. My gear felt like weights as I trudged an inch forward. Then I bumped into something that wasnota piece of furniture.

I crawled on my hands and knees to him. I pushed away any terror, and my training took over. Locating him, I bent to check his airways. Thank God, Smack was breathing. Without hesitation, I scooped him up and over my shoulder. I juggled his weight and moved, backtracking on instinct, blinded by smoke, then groped for the front door, kicking away any debris, stumbling to remain upright.

The handle was warm in my grasp, but I turned it, and suddenly—light, air.

I found my speed, rushing with him away. Like a football player might sack somebody, I charged with Smack in my arms toward the clearing. The house was aflame moments later.

Smack and I were far enough away from the flames now. Still, my heart slammed against my ribs.

“Are you all right?” I rasped.

“Yeah.” He coughed. “My mask wasn’t fitting right, and the smoke—but you got me out in time.”

As soon as he answered, instead of being reassured, I fell apart.

Memories chased me like ghosts. The day I took another chance, boldly tackling a gas fire. Only that day went all wrong, the fire too big. Unlike today, I misjudged how much time I’d had. The roar had been so loud as the fire found me. It all happened so fast. I couldn’t save myself.

I thought it was my end.

My breath became a wheeze. I’d survived that fire, but barely. My body trembled with uncontrollable shakes and quakes. In my mind, I was still staring down a huge flame that was going to consume me.

Smack’s eyes narrowed. “Caleb?”

“What?”

“I’ve been calling your name for like five minutes. Did you get hurt helping me? It was damn risky of you.” He ran a hand over me, checking for injuries.

“Fine,” I gasped. “Just aftereffects…” I tried to stop my dark thoughts as I was on the edge of panic. Not because I was in danger, but the memory of the other time—it loomed large.

“Flashback,” I croaked. “It’s dumb, I’m sorry?—”

“Just breathe,” Smack said.

My muscles stiffened, and I braced myself, waiting for him to tell me that I was a fool for reacting like this whennothingbad had occurred. But the smell inside the house today, the moldy smell, mixed with the other fire. Only those flames had been like a funnel cloud.

“Fuck,” I said in a small voice. I tried to smile, my mouth wobbling. “I don’t know why—sometimes… I’m sorry.”

He rubbed my back. “I’m here. Right here.”

“I’m okay now.” I quaked. And it was almost true. His touch made it all right. Better, at least.

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