Foreplay (The Ivy Chronicles #1)(77)

I woke to a faint popping sound.

Pushing up on the couch, it took me a moment to remember where I was. I coughed, covering my mouth as my waking brain struggled to grasp why the room was so gray. The lights of the Christmas tree sparkled through the opaque air.

Smoke.

My heart jumped to my throat. I vaulted to my feet and looked around wildly, trying to process what was happening.

I heard the pop again.

Fire.

The smoke billowed thickly from the kitchen. I hurried that way, peering within, thinking that I needed to hurry and put out whatever was burning.

That’s when I saw that the stove was engulfed in flames that were spreading to the cabinets. The heat reached me where I stood, singeing my face. I immediately forgot about trying to put out the fire myself. I didn’t even know if they had an extinguisher in the house.

The kids. They were my only thought as I rushed for the stairs, charging through the rising smoke. I coughed violently, remembering that in the event of a fire you should crawl on the floor where the smoke was least dense.

Except the girls were on the second floor. I had no choice. I was going up.

I scrambled up the stairs, gasping and coughing my way through the haze. The smoke alarm went off then, loud and shrill. I prayed it was actually wired to a system that alerted the authorities and not just a warning for the inhabitants of the house.

I ran into Madison’s room and grabbed the two-year-old. She resisted at first, groggy and confused from sleep. Holding her tight, I kept moving, talking so she could recognize my voice, “It’s me, Maddy. We’ve got to get out of the house.”

Sheridan was already awake from the alarm, sitting up in bed with eyes wide in her little face. “C’mon!” I grabbed her hand and pulled her after me. When we reached the top of the stairs, the fire was a living, breathing beast below, snarling for us.

Sheridan pulled back in fear. I tightened my grip on her small hand, determined not to lose her. “We have to do this. Don’t let go of my hand!”

Maybe it was the panic in my voice, but she stopped pulling away. Madison buried her face in my sweater and tightened her thin arms around my neck. Holding them tightly, I descended the stairs. Just a few more steps to the front door. We were going to make it!

Somehow I had the presence of mind to grab my bag off the table right beside the front door. Unbolting the lock, I hurled us out into the fresh air, leaving the heat and smoke behind.

I made it several yards away from the house before passing Madison to her sister. My eyes had teared so badly it was hard to see, but I managed to recover my phone from my bag. Over the girls’ sobs, I dialed 911. This far outside the city, I knew it was going to take them a while to get here. I only hoped there was something left of the house when they arrived.

I’d just finished giving the address to the operator when Sheridan screamed loud enough to give me a heart attack. I dropped to my knees on the cold ground and grabbed her arms. “What? What is it? Are you hurt?”

She pointed to the house. “Jazz! Jazz is in there!”

I looked in horror back at the burning house. Oh. God. The puppy. I just acted. I shoved the phone at Sheridan. “Wait here! I mean it. Stay with your sister. Help is coming.”

I sprinted back into the house, convinced that I could do this. There was still time. The laundry room was on the other side of the kitchen. I could reach it. I could save the dog.

Dropping to my knees, I began crawling through the smoke. I knew the floor plan well. Coughing, I reached the room quickly and had the cage door open in a flash.

The puppy whimpered but came to me readily. I stuffed him inside my sweatshirt. When I turned around, ready to crawl back out, the fire had spread even more, a great wall ahead of me. In the blink of an eye, it had consumed half the living room, eating up the walls like some kind of red-orange river.

Oh God. Was this it? I’d lived my whole life afraid to make a move because it might be the wrong one, and now I would die in a fire before I even turned twenty?

I’d said good-bye to Reece and kicked him out of my life for what? To end this way? No. Hell no.

I moved, dragging myself over the floor, choking for breath. I clawed one hand after the other. The puppy was still, a warm little body inside my sweatshirt, and I wondered dimly if it was too late for him. Had this all been for nothing?

My entire body felt like lead as I struggled through the black smoke. My head throbbed as I wheezed, my lungs withering, dying for a taste of oxygen. I turned my face, searching, suddenly confused. Which way was the door?

Oh God. So sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m not sure who the apology was for. Myself? Gram? My friends? Reece?

Reece.

Yes. I wished I could tell him I was sorry. Sorry about running. From us. From all he had offered me. That was my biggest sin, I realized. My greatest regret. Running from love. I’m the safest thing you’ll ever find. Suddenly I understood what he had been saying. He had cared about me. Maybe even loved me. He was the real thing. Better than any plan or fantasy I’d created in my head. And I’d pushed him away.

My arms gave out. I slumped to the carpet, collapsing on my side, still coughing, my chest tight and aching.

“Pepper!”

I flinched.

“Pepper!”

Cruel mind. Maybe this was my hell, to imagine Reece’s voice so close.

“Pepper!”

I forced my head up and peered through the haze. I made out the shape of someone through the smoke and flames. Just a glimpse and then he moved away. But I recognized that voice. Reece . . .