Page 45 of Bragg's Match

Brody wraps an arm around my shoulders. “Whatever it is, it’ll be okay.” He kisses my hair and I lean into him.

Time slows to a crawl during the ride from the refuge to my house. I’m strangling Brody’s hand but he doesn’t complain.

“Brace yourselves,” River says as we turn the corner into my street.

Brace ourselves for what? I don’t get the chance to ask the question before I see it. Smoke. Fire. The street full of emergency vehicles.

“Whoa!” Brody catches me as I try to jump out of the golf cart. “Wait until we come to a stop.”

“Come to a stop?” I shriek. “My house is on fire. Who gives a flying flute about coming to a stop?”

“Not your house,” River mutters as he parks.

I jump out but Brody keeps hold of my hand to stop me from running away.

River steps in front of us. “I didn’t lie. It’s not your house.”

My shoulders drop as I blow out a breath in relief. “Not my house. Thank goodness. Whose house is it? I hope it’s not my neighbor’s house. Saffron can’t get around very well.” I gasp. “Oh no. Is Saffron okay?”

“Saffron is fine. And her house isn’t on fire.”

I try to peek past River, but he’s more than a foot taller than me. Being short sucks sometimes. “Whose house is it? You said it wasn’t my house. Were you lying?”

He drags a hand down his face. “It wasn’t a house. We managed to save the house.”

“Save the house. Wasn’t a house? What do you— No! No! No! No!” I sprint for my house. My backyard to be precise.

It can’t be. My pottery shed can’t be on fire. It can’t be. I can’t lose my pottery shed. I can’t. I round my house and come to a screeching halt. My pottery shed is no more. The only thing remaining is the blackened ground where I used to make my art.

“NO!”

I fall to my knees and Brody scoops me up. He cradles me in his arms as I whale my fists against his chest.

“This isn’t fair! I’ve lost everything! What am I going to do?”

I burst into tears and Brody holds me close as he rocks me back and forth. He doesn’t speak, merely embraces me as the tears flow down my cheeks, and I cling to him. He feels strong. As if he can protect me from the world.

When the tears slow and I’m left hiccupping, he pushes my hair out of my face and palms my neck. “River wants to talk to us. You up for it?”

“What choice do I have?” I pout.

“If you don’t want to talk to him now, I’ll tell him to leave. He can come back later.”

I blow out a breath. This isn’t me. Soleil isn’t a pouter. “No. Let’s get this over with.”

He lifts me from his lap before standing and offering me his hand. I frown as I notice the soot and grass stains on his suit.

“I ruined your suit.”

He shrugs. “No big deal. It’s just clothing.”

“Just clothing? Suits aren’t cheap. I’ll have it cleaned or buy you a new one.”

His jaw clenches. “You aren’t buying me a fucking suit.”

“But you don’t have another suit and I’ve ruined this one.”

“You didn’t ruin it. We’ll discuss this later.”

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