Page 43 of Light My Fire Three Times
“Livvy!” Jesse’s voice rings out, his gaze locking onto me, his expression filled with that protective, furious concern that’s both maddening and comforting all at once.
I don’t know what to say, but before I can even open my mouth, Karl’s moving toward the house like he owns the damn thing, pushing through the others to get a closer look at the smoke still pouring from the windows.
“Damn it,” he mutters, his usual cocky demeanor gone, replaced with something a little less playful and a lot more serious. “This is bad.”
But it’s Leo who reaches out to me first. “Olivia, you hurt?”
I shake my head, but my throat feels dry, and I can’t form the words to reassure him. I want to tell them it’s fine, that it’s under control, but I know it’s not. I know it’s anything but fine.
Before I can say anything, Jesse turns sharply, barking orders to the crew arriving behind him. “Get those hoses set up! You, move that ladder… now!”
He’s in full firefighting mode, commanding and directing them, his focus on the house. It’s the side of him I rarely see, and as much as it should make me feel safe, it only makes my heart race faster.
“Jesse, no—” I try to shout, but my words break when I see him move toward the house.
Without hesitation, he charges toward the house, his boots pounding against the ground. The firemen around him move like clockwork, but Jesse? He’s the center of it all, coordinating every step.
“Get that line hooked up! Move fast!” His voice booms over the chaos, cutting through the haze.
I feel the panic surge in my chest, rising like a tidal wave, threatening to overtake me.
I want to move, to go after him, to stop him, but my feet are cemented to the porch. I can only watch as he disappears into the inferno, the heat of it radiating toward me even from this distance.
Karl and Leo have already pushed their way through the front door, disappearing into the dark, smoke-filled house.
I barely catch a glimpse of Karl, his hand brushing past mine as he mutters something I can’t hear over the roar of the fire.
Something about getting the flames under control: his voice is low, steady, but I can’t focus.
My eyes lock on Jesse’s silhouette through the smoke, his figure barely visible as he orders the others into position. I know he’s doing what he was born to do, but I can’t shake the feeling of helplessness crawling under my skin.
The firemen move like a well-oiled machine, darting in and out of the house, hauling equipment, shouting commands over the crackling flames.
I hear glass shattering as the heat pushes through the windows, and I wince at the sound. The whole house is a hellish landscape of orange and black, a blistering furnace that’s swallowing everything in its path.
I can’t breathe. I can’t think. I stand there on the porch, feeling like I’m frozen in time, unable to move as the scene unfolds in front of me.
Everything’s a blur. The fire, the men, the fear, all of it swirling together until it’s too much to hold on to. The thought that my house might be gone…
EverythingI’ve worked for, built here.
Before I can fully grasp what’s happening, the flames surge. A violent crackle rips through the air, and I see a piece of the roof give way.
The whole front side of the house explodes in a burst of heat, sending embers flying like sparks from a bonfire. The sound is deafening, with the crackling, breaking wood, and roaring flames all blending into one overwhelming noise.
Shit.
I take a step back instinctively, my feet slipping in the wet grass, my body frozen with fear as I watch the flames eat away at everything.
The fire seems to rage harder now, as if it’s angry, determined to destroy. The heat intensifies, and I feel the fire’s pull, even from this distance. I can see the blaze roaring in the windows, licking the sky, as if it’s trying to swallow the entire world.
The other men, the ones whom I don’t even know, charge in to help me.
I’m so freaking grateful, but the fear is sickening.
But eventually, the flames die down. The firefighters are managing to control the spread, but it’s clear that the damage is severe. Too severe. I don’t know how it will be repaired. The whole place smells like smoke, and the windows are shattered; the roof has caved in where the fire raged.
I swallow hard, trying to push down the lump in my throat.
