A Matter Of Justice (Grey Justice #4)(87)

As though they wanted to escape, too, heavy smoke and flames followed her. The ravenous fire ate up the walls. Light fixtures exploded, raining glass. Exhaustion and grief pulled at her. From the second-floor, through the haze of dense smoke, she could see the giant foyer and the front door. She could make it. She had too much to live for to stop now. Grey was somewhere waiting for her. She had to leave. Now.

Irelyn took a step, and something slammed into her, knocking her legs out from under her.

Dark hadn’t left after all. His red-rimmed eyes wild with fury, he glared down at her. “You bitch! You destroyed it all!”

She jumped to her feet and swung wide, her fist barely glancing off of his jaw. He pulled back and slammed his fist into her face. She felt herself falling, her arms wind-milling, looking to grasp on to anything. She landed on the hard marble surface of the first floor. She lay there, unable to move, unable to breathe. Dense smoke filled the air. She tried to cough, could find no air.

Her hazy, pain-filled mind told her this was a fitting ending. She had experienced agony here, but now she could be at peace. Hill House was no more.

She closed her eyes, imagined she heard Grey screaming her name, and she smiled.



Thick, black smoke filled the house, leaving no room for air. Grey held his breath. He couldn’t see much, but he’d been through this house enough times to figure things out. He ran, shouting her name. The heat was becoming intense, but that would not stop him. She was here. She had set this fire, he was sure of it. But where the hell was she?

“Over here!”

He could see almost nothing, but he followed the voice. Gallagher was on his knees beside a prone figure.

Irelyn.

His legs could not move fast enough. He had to get to her.

“We’ve got to get her out of here!” Gallagher shouted.

Lifting her in his arms, Grey started running. Gallagher and Jonah were in front of him, clearing away obstacles. He ran onto the porch and then down the steps. The instant he was clear, he placed her on the ground.

She was a bloody mess. Covered in cuts and scratches from head to toe. Her left leg was twisted at an odd, painful angle, indicating multiple fractures.

Dropping to his knees beside her, he checked her pulse, relieved to feel the beat. Grey opened his mouth, and nothing came out. He swallowed, tried again. “Irelyn? Baby?”

Nothing. He leaned over her, realized she wasn’t breathing. As Grey began CPR compressions, Gallagher kneeled down on the other side of her. They counted off thirty compressions together. Then, tilting her head back, Grey gave her mouth-to-mouth, keeping a careful watch on her chest. When it rose, he pulled away, was about to begin compressions again when he heard the sweetest sound he’d ever imagined. A cough.

“Irelyn?”

His heart stuttered when her eyelids flickered. She opened her mouth and then coughed violently.

“Take it easy, sweetheart. Help is on the way.”

“Grey,” she rasped.

Brushing her hair out of her face, he whispered, “Don’t try to talk. Everything’s going to be fine.”

“Always getting…into a bit of trouble, aren’t I?” Her voice was weak and raspy.

“You are that, my love.”

A faint smile tugged at her mouth. “Love it when you call me that.”

“It’s always been true, even when I was too stubborn to say the words.”

“Is it done?”

Grey raised his head and viewed the destruction. She had accomplished what she’d set out to do. Hill House was no more. The place where she’d known both pain and joy, where innocence was lost and the woman before him became a warrior.

“Yes, it’s done.”

“That’s good, then. ” She gasped, coughed, swallowed. “We…can be done with the past now, too.”

No, there was one more thing to do, but he would take care of that himself. “We’ll talk about that later.”

“I think I may need a little help getting up.”

Her face was coated with soot, grime, and blood. The red dress that had looked so lovely earlier hung in tatters. The cuts from all the glass that had exploded around her were too numerous to count. And he knew he had never seen anyone more beautiful or more precious. He loved her with endless abundance. His strong, courageous, beautiful warrior woman.

“Ambulance is here!” Jonah shouted.

Grey glanced up, spotted the vehicle zooming toward them. Though still worried, he felt almost weak with relief. If she was in any danger, the EMTs would know what to do.

Heavy footsteps ran toward him, and a voice said, “Step aside, sir.”

Releasing her hand, Grey jumped out of the way and allowed the medics to attend her. Noise from the firemen working to put out the flames sounded in the background, barely penetrating his consciousness. His entire focus was on Irelyn and the medics working on her.

“We need to get her to a hospital.”

Not bothering to see if they would protest, Grey ran with them as they rolled the gurney toward the ambulance and jumped inside with them. They were away in seconds, the siren blasting as they zoomed down the drive.

Her hand in his, Grey glanced out the back window to the burning house. Had Dark died in the fire? If he was still inside, he was dead now. But Grey was too well acquainted with evil to take the bastard’s death for granted. Evil never died easy.