Page 243 of Wrong Pucking Jersey

All I know is the car is screeching to a stop.

That I’m out and tossing the car keys inside before closing the door of the white minivan and running toward the burning blaze.

Someone had screamed fire back at the Fundraiser Ball, and the massive television displayed the madness happening too close to home.

The dorms are on fire…

It shouldn’t be important to me.

It shouldn’t be a big deal because we’re all here at the ball, making connections and celebrating successful deals and sponsorships.

Yet the worse thing possible was thrown into my face.

All thanks to a text.

A text not sent by me.

A text that conned Wolfgang into thinking I was back at the dorms.

A single text that got my Baby Girl out of the safety of this event and right to the dorms.

That is now on fucking fire!

The mere idea of my girl, my Sweet Mikayla, being fucking near that thing sent my heart into overdrive.

I ran before I could think, my mouth moving, yet nothing processing as I grabbed the keys familiar to me and raced to the very car it belonged to.

By the time I heard Damien screaming for me, the engine was on, and I was speeding out of the parking lot to the road they were going to open after the weekend.

I broke a few caution and road-closed signs along the way, but a car is nothing but a tool.

It can be replaced.

My Mkaykay can’t be replaced.

Now I’m here.

The site of utter chaos.

Flashing lights are all along the sidelines of my tunnel vision, yet I can’t pull away from the burning structure as smoke seethes upward in a burning rage. People are crying. Others screaming for everyone to get as far away from the building as they can.

I know right there and then, I can’t follow such instructions.

They don’t apply to me.

In this moment of fear and adrenaline, I’m back in that mindset from years ago.

That space where I tap in and zone the world out and focus on the priority at hand.

I feel like I’m a firefighter once more, ready to rush into the burning building with all my gear and save those trapped inside before their home comes crashing down.

Only this is a building.

I can’t waste any more time as I run forward.

I’m throwing my suit jacket away, knowing it’ll only get in my way. My tie is next to slip from my collar. I quickly tuck it into my pocket, which has my handkerchief that I’d removed from my front pocket for safekeeping.

It’ll come in handy if the smoke gets too thick, but I need to race up the stairs before they’re clogged with nothing but smoke.

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