Page 16 of Choosing Forever
She nods and snuggles into my hold like there’s nowhere else she’d rather be, and I know that right here, right now, there isn’t anywhere better for her.
For either of us.
6
PRESENT
DELANEY
Blaring sirens wake me.
I lurch up from the . . . couch? My heart pounds as I take in the room, realizing that I must have fallen asleep working again. When I turn my head to the front window, the pain in my neck zaps down my spine, and the papers in my lap fall to the floor. Massaging the knot growing beneath my skin, I push to my feet and feel my stomach drop at the red lights flashing down the street.
It’s loud, almost to the point my eardrums ache as I stand in front of the window and gawk out at the street. My neighbours are doing the same, some outright standing on their front porches and on the sidewalk. There’s no such thing as discretion in Cherry Peak.
Inhaling, I snap my eyes to the crack I left open in the window. The fire is close enough that the scent of it is floating inside, thick and strong.
The heavy cardigan and fluffy slippers I’m still wearing are warm enough, so I go outside to the front step, joining my nosey neighbours. Smoke burns the back of my throat when I breathein, glancing down the street in the direction of the flashing red lights. The two Cherry Peak fire engines are barely visible, but there’s no mistaking where they’re heading. Giant plumes of black smoke fill the sky above the flickers of orange flames in the direction of the town sign.
Where the drive-in sits.
Panic sets in as I grip the thin metal railing, my fingers going numb. The older couple across the street from me have the sides of their robes clenched tightly in their hands as they stare at the smoke. In a blink, I’m rushing back into the house.
I grab my car keys and don’t waste time searching for proper shoes before heading back outside and toward my car. The engine cranks, and then I’m tearing down the street. Silence makes my anxiety worse, but I keep the radio off, my focus set on the road ahead of me.
The drive-in isn’t popular anymore. Nobody goes there but teenagers looking for a spot to smoke weed and drink before they’re eighteen. That wasn’t always the case, though. Not for me.
I can’t—itcan’t disappear. Not yet.
The end of the road is closed off ahead of me. Not only is it the easiest way out of town, but it’s also the only way to access the drive-in. It’s impossible to get a proper breath when I make it past the last of the buildings in town and get my first real view of the fire. Of the roaring flames and thick smoke filling the sky.
I tighten my hold on the steering wheel and slow down, a piece of my soul chipping off and floating away at the scene that unfolds up ahead.
The projection room is crumbling, half of the building already collapsed while the rest of it burns the brightest. The few RCMP officers we have in town are managing the road blockage, and I swallow thickly when I park behind the first cruiser blocking my lane of the road.
Moving slowly, I park my car and step outside without bothering to turn it off. One of the officers is already headed my wayby the time I get my bearings. The wall of smoke is so close now that I cough to clear my throat.
“You can’t be here, Ms. Brooks. Especially not outside with this smoke,” he says, already lifting an arm to usher me back into the car.
I take a closer look at him, trying to figure out where we must have met before. The name stitched onto his uniform doesn’t ring a bell, so I let it go, knowing I won’t be able to focus on that right now.
“What happened?” I ask, glancing over his shoulder at the scene behind him.
The fire engine parked sideways between the drive-in and the police cruiser blocks off a lot of my view, and that only makes me more frustrated. This place isn’t mine, but it feels like it is. Too many of my core memories were made here.
Watching it burn . . .
“We’re not sure yet. The fire started small, but the structure was already old and weak. For now, we need everyone to stay back. We’ve got the station working to contain as much of the fire as they can before it spreads to the woods.”
My chest lurches. It’s instinct to look for him.
From the moment I learned Darren had already started volunteering at the station, I began worrying with every blare of fire engine sirens despite knowing it was no longer my place to care. The thought of him running into fires has never felt right, and right now, it feels the worst it ever has.
Panic makes it hard to speak. “Is the entire station here?”
“Every available firefighter in Cherry Peak, and they’ve made a call for additional stations,” the officer says.
“Are you sure? Even volunteers?” I ramble, pivoting to the side.
