Page 6 of Hot Touch
A roaring unhinged kind of panic started to set up place inside of me. This was it. This was how… I shook my head. My ears filled with sirens and the roaring of my own blood rushing through me. I glanced down at the crowd forming on the street.
Men and women in all sorts of uniforms. All of them walking back and forth. Some talking to each other, others speaking into walkie talkies. So many trucks and cars and ambulances. For there to be that many vehicles, it had to be bad.A bad fire.Not just some smoke that had appeared due to shoddy electrical work.
Panic didn’t wash through me; it took ahold of me.
Even if my building wasn’t big with two floors and only thirty units, seventeen on top and thirteen on the bottom floor, there were still a lot of people. A lot of doors to go to one by one.What if no one gets to mine?
Or worse, what if…
My eyes burned, and I felt wetness roll down my face.
What if…That short fleeting thought rushed through my head.What if…That’s as far as I let it go. Two words. That was enough of a road I didn’t want to go down for me because I dug deep.
This wasn’t how I was going to die.
I was going to get out of here. I had to. I hadn’t lived up until then. Not really. I was a twenty-six-year-old hardly-been-kissed woman who’d had sex one time.
I hadn’t done anything.
I’d lived and done things safe, always so safe, and boring. From my major in accounting to where I lived and how much I saved. And for what? My eyes burned almost as much as my lungs.
I had to get out.
I tried again and again, but the stupid, old window wouldn’t budge. It wouldn’t surprise me if it was because the stupid sills had been painted over and over through the years. God only knew how many layers of paint I was trying to cut through.Stupid, cheapskate landlord!
I pushed and pushed on that window with renewed strength, but it wouldn’t give.
If I didn’t get the window open… No! I couldn’t think that way!
When I got out of this, I would live. Not if but when. And I’d live to the fullest! I’d say yes to everything!Doing things is better than not doing things, Jackie’s words sing-songed in my head. I tried to swallow down the choked cries stuck inside my chest. I’d travel and meet all sorts of new people. Eat incredible food and fall in love.
Break it.I glanced around my room and picked up a pretty vase Liz had given me, filled with flowers for my birthday. It had been sweet, her way of trying to be there when she was in Colorado working at a children’s hospital in Denver.
I loved that vase.
It was heavy and made of concrete in such a unique shape. But at that moment, it was the first thing I knew, without a doubt, would break that glass. I ran toward it and took it in my hand, feeling its weight. Heavy and solid. It would help break it. It had to. I returned to the window and winced. I looked down at my legs. I was in nothing but short shorts, and if this window was as old as the apartment, I was more than positive the glass would shatter everywhere. Consequences be damned. I had to do it.What are a few cuts and scrapes anyhow, in the bigger scheme of things?
I lifted it up and winced. Crap, I never knew just how heavy this thing was! I shook the thought away, ready to swing it, when someone barged right through my bedroom door.
A man.
A tall one, judging by the way his head bent to step into my room, burst through my space. Not just any man, a fireman. I was saved! His face was covered by a mask and helmet and smoke, darkness at his back. It made my eyes sting all over again. My shoulders slumped forward.
I was safe.
I didn’t have to go through the window and pray the old fire escape wouldn’t collapse under me. But then a whole other thought crept in. If I had to go with him…
Would there be flames?
Actual fire surrounding us?
The tall man stepped forward and stopped suddenly. We stood a couple feet apart and just stared at each other for a heartbeat. I had no idea what happened. He didn’t say anything, not a word, but something enveloped me as I stared at him.
Broad shoulders, thick muscled body beneath the uniform. I couldn’t see him, couldn’t make out any of his features, not even the color of his eyes, but something came alive between us. My head tilted slightly, trying to figure out what it was, but before I could grasp it, someone called out behind him, and he shouted back.
“I got one!” His voice was deep, even muffled through his mask. “You okay?” he asked, breaking the silence between us. I nodded because I wasn’t sure if I could trust my voice in that moment. Or my knees not to buckle.
Someone was here.
