Page 97 of His Forced Bride
He shifts carefully, wincing as his ribs protest the movement and his hand presses against them.
"I was in the back office, updating the inventory sheets. Around three in the afternoon, I heard the front door chime. Normal sound, you know? Customers come and go all day."
"But these weren't customers."
I sigh, wishing there were something I could do.
But I sit quietly to listen as he continues.
"No."
His breathing grows shallow as he goes on.
"I walked out to greet them, and three men stood in the main display area. They wore black masks, the full-face type that covers everything."
"Balaclavas…" I say, and he nods.
"The first one carried a metal container of gasoline, I realized later. The second had some sort of device, maybe a timer. The third one just watched the door."
Pyotr's eyes grow distant.
"They acted like they'd done this before. And they knew exactly where to pour the accelerant for maximum destruction."
He winces again and lays his head on the pillow.
"Did they say anything to you?"
"The one watching the door told me to get out or burn with the building, but I didn't realize what was happening until one of them set a charge."
Pyotr's eyes hold terror in them, staring blankly at my face.
My stomach turns.
"But you didn't leave immediately."
"I couldn't."
His voice cracks slightly.
"I thought about all the hours we spent arranging those displays, all the pieces from the new collection.
I tried to grab what I could from the nearest rack."
His head shakes and then drops.
"That's when you got hurt."
My heart aches for him, but there's nothing I can do to take back what happened.
Rage forms in my chest in a tight ball that feels like I've swallowed a rock.
"The fire spread so fast… A rack fell over and pinned my arm briefly. I managed to get free, but not before…"
He gestures to his bandaged limb.
I reach out and squeeze his uninjured hand.
"I'm so sorry, Pyotr. This should never have happened to you, to any of you."
