Caught in the Flames (25 page)

“You did it!” Alicia’s face lights up and her jaw drops open.

We both stand as Jill comes racing back.

“You forget where the kitchen was?”

“No! Hadda pee. And then I got this fucking amazing idea! No shit. It was one of those moments where the lightbulb appears and you just know it’s divine intervention.”

“I don’t think that’s how divine—”

“Look!” Jill shouts. She produces a bottle of Bacardi from behind her back.

Alicia scowls. “Honey, I think you’ve had enough—”

“Not for me! For the fire!” And before we can protest she pours it onto the growing blaze. The flames follow the liquor up to Jill’s hand and we all scream. Thankfully, she drops the bottle and jumps back. The fire roars. Alicia and I grab Jill and scurry back a few more paces.

An explosive
pop
causes the three of us to scream again. I’m pretty sure the bottle burst.
Great!
Now I have glass shards all over my lawn. I blow out a breath.

“Shit. Rum and fire don’t mix. Ya think there’d be a warning label,” Jill complains.

“I have a feeling you didn’t check the label.” I cringe as the fire cracks and licks the sky. Damn it. We’ll be out here all night waiting this thing out.

“So, we getting this burning ceremony started or what?” Alicia bounces on her toes.

“Yes!” Jill scrambles for her bag. “First, we have the offending magnum size condoms.” She removes a sleeve. “I thought cocks that giant only existed in fairytales. May my vag not be forever ruined for much smaller love sticks!” With her proclamation she tosses them into the flames. “Your turn, Callie!”

“That’s it? We built this inferno for you to burn five fucking condoms?” I’m upset we started a bonfire when a trip to the dumpster would do. And clearly Jill’s been reading pornographic fairytales.

“They’re magnum!” Jill screeches as if that explains it all. “And I have more. I just want you to go next.”

“Fine.” I pull out the clothes. “This is all I have.” I move to toss them in the blaze.

“Wait!” Jill screams.

“What?” I don’t drop them just yet.

“You can’t just burn them. You have to say something first. Presentation, Callie. It’s all in the presentation.”

She’s so dramatic tonight. I shake my head and play along, just for Jill, and also because the smoke is beginning to burn my eyes and this exhibition needs to end soon.

“Okay, this was the last outfit he left in my laundry basket. It’s all the evidence I have that we were even together. And I fucking hate him. And I hate that I miss him. And I hate that some nights it takes everything I can to not pull these stupid dirty clothes out of my closet and breathe them in.”
Oh, God.
My chest rises and the familiar ache returns. Tears stream down my cheeks, my eyes burn, and I don’t fight it.
Damn it
. There’s really something to this.

“Fuck you, Chase Matthews! I hope you miss this T-shirt every fucking day!” I scream my lungs out and pitch the clothing into the flames. The material burns slow and steady as the fire devours it, and Alicia and Jill hug me from each side.

“I’m so sorry,” Alicia says in a voice just above a whisper.

“That was beautiful,” Jill chokes out, and I’m not sure if she says it that way because she’s crying or because the smoke’s getting to her, too. Jill goes back to her bag and pulls something out, but holds it behind her back.

“And now, for my last item, which the man who shall not be named wore on regular occasion. He left this in my car. I think it rolled out of his overnight bag and now he will
never
get it back.” She holds high a can of Axe body spray, and in the same second Alicia and I realize it’s an aerosol can we scream
No!
But it’s too late. Jill flings it into the fire and Alicia and I grab her by the arms and run, as fast as we can toward the house.

Pop! Boom!

I glance over my shoulder to find flames lick across my lawn, over the fence, and into the neighbors’. The blare of sirens fills the night air.

“Shit!” I scream. “Get her inside,” I yell to Alicia, and unload Jill who has become a wailing mess. I leave them and race ahead, straight to the laundry room where I have one household size fire extinguisher. I scan the instructions, pop off the safety seal and rush back, passing Alicia and Jill in the living room on my way outside.

“Fuck!” The fire is growing. The night air that was calm to begin with now carries a gusty breeze that scatters tiny flames throughout the yard. The bonfire still burns brightest so I move closer to aim for that first. Relief fills my veins as the flames begin to quench at the frothy foam. But that’s temporary because I run out before it’s fully extinguished.

“Damn it!”

The flashing lights, the rumble of the truck, and the cease of the truck’s wails fill my senses. I’m rendered immobile. Men in full turnout gear invade my yard and spray water at the flames. It’s chaos and overwhelming for what feels like only seconds.

“Ma’am, are you okay?” someone says at my right. “Ma’am?” His gloved hands grip my arms and shake me out of my daze.

“What?” I huff and bristle away from his touch and then lift my gaze.

“Callie?” He seems surprised, but I don’t recognize him immediately. I think it’s because I’m terrified of discovering Chase amongst this sea of firefighters.

“Ash?” I remember his name only because Ashley’s a stupid name for a boy.

His lips quirk up at the corner. “Have a little fire pit trouble?” He nods to the spot of now charred dirt. It’s a horrible sight, along with the dozen smaller areas scattered across what
was
a lush green lawn.

“We were holding an exorcism,” I explain.

“We?” His brows lift. I glance up to the window where Alicia peers through the pane. God only knows what Jill’s up to in my house. Of course, they’re no use at the moment.

“Yeah, my friends and I. It got a little out of hand. Who called you?”

“We received several calls. What exactly were you trying to remove other than a well-manicured lawn?”

“You ask a lot of questions for a rookie,” I retort. He laughs.

“Oh, I’m no booter. Now, answer the question. What was this about?”

“Being done with firemen,” I say, and his brow lifts in question. “Counterproductive, I know. Is this an investigation or can I go inside now?”

“I may need to ask you some follow-up questions,” he states, and I glance around the yard again. Thankfully, it doesn’t seem Chase is working tonight, or maybe he didn’t want to come on the call. Whatever. I’m relieved this is not the moment I have to face my ex. I’m not ready for that, especially after starting a fire in my own fucking yard.

“Ask one of the guys at the station if you need my number. They all can get it, I’m sure.” I roll my eyes and turn on my heel. Chin held high, I march back inside with all the dignity I can muster and slam the door.

“I’m sorry, Callie,” Alicia says from where she leans against the sofa. We both glance down to where Jill snores. I don’t know what Alicia’s apologizing for—the fire tonight? The night at the bar with Chase? Really, I’m so exhausted at this moment it doesn’t even matter. “Want me to take her home?”

“No, it’s fine. Just leave her. She can sleep it off here and I’ll take her home tomorrow.”

“Well, I guess I . . . um . . . I’ll go now. I’m sorry for the way this night ended but it was really nice to hang out with you and Jilly like old times.” Her voice is full of hope and maybe some nervousness as well.

“Yeah. Me, too. I know what you mean.”

She gestures toward the front door and I follow her to the entryway. She grips the door handle and pauses a moment. She studies the tips of her shoes and it’s quiet but for the sound of our breathing.

“I checked myself into an outpatient program a few weeks ago. For alcoholics. I’m still not sure that’s what I am, but I guess that’s what most people say who have a problem. I only know that the way I hurt you . . . my behavior . . . I never want to do that again. Thank you for giving me another chance. I’m sorry, Callie.”

Moisture gathers behind my eyelids and I blink it back.

“Good night, Callie.” Still not meeting my gaze, she pulls open the door and steps outside.

“Good night, Alicia.”

I love Target.

Target therapy. It’s just what I need today. After having the entire fucking station in my yard last night I need something to help ground me. I’ll head over to Kiki’s later, but I’m too wound up and restless. I need to walk around, and what better place than aisle after aisle of pleasantly displayed household items, makeup, shoes, clothing, and groceries.

Last night I didn’t want to see any firemen, let alone Chase. I was trying to absolve myself from everything fire related. Though looking back, a fire might’ve been the worst way to go about that. Still, it sounded like a good idea when Jill and Alicia showed up.

Fall is finally here so I upgrade my usual outfit of a tank top and cutoff jeans to black leggings and an oversized tee. I’m sticking with my flip flops though, even if my toes are chilly. Seems a waste to not show off the only good thing that resulted from last night’s chaos—painted nails. It’s stupid, but every time I look down I feel pretty. The shiny, perfectly smooth pink finish catches my gaze with each step I take through the store.

I need to replace my fire extinguisher, and after last night I may buy two. I never again want to call for the fire department so I better prepare for the worst. It’s a struggle to deter from my usual path through the store and I’d really love to linger in the office supplies. A nice color coordinated notepad and sticky notes or a new package of pens would sweeten my mood. But first, fireman repellant.

I march toward the home necessities and cringe at the price tag. It’s not cheap being prepared. Oh, hell. Can I even put a price tag on the safety of my heart? I place the remaining four extinguishers in my red cart and turn toward bedding. Maybe it’s time for a change. I’m still using my spare set of sheets, but they’re so uncomfortable and don’t match my room. I can’t bring myself to change the covers back to the ones I shared with Chase, even if they’ve been washed three times. They don’t smell like him, but the pattern reminds me of his tatted skin sprawled across the bed, and I can almost feel the calluses of his fingers running across my naked flesh.
Fuck.

Yeah. I need a new set of sheets.

I’m assessing thread count when two teenage boys tear around the corner, bang my cart out of my hands, and almost knock me over.

“Whoa!” I jump out of the way. They proceed to race past me and round another corner. “Slow down!” I shout after the idiots and collect my cart. They’re long gone and probably didn’t listen anyway. “Stupid teenagers,” I mutter under my breath. I settle on a solid champagne colored fabric and add those to my growing purchases.

With a push, I steer back into the main walkway and consider whether to head toward the food at my right or clothing to my left. My stomach grumbles, but then I remember the candy I’ll have to pass to get to the pizza. I’m feeling unsettled, more than usual, and I’m not sure I can handle the temptation. I haven’t had one ounce of chocolate since breaking things off with Chase.

A scream pulls my attention to my left and I notice a rising cloud of smoke from the back corner of the store.
Fire!

“Oh, fuck me!” I glance down at the extinguishers in my cart. “Really?” I all but shout to no one in particular. Chaos and voices carry from that area of the store. Damn it. I can’t not help. I run with my cart as fast as I can in flip flops toward the commotion.

I push through the small crowd of people. Most are on their cell phones, no doubt alerting emergency personnel.
Shit. Can’t have that
. I better get a move on.

“Mommy!” A child wails and it’s then I realize the young boy of maybe four or five is trapped on the other side of the growing blaze. His mother sobs inconsolably and two strangers restrain her from darting into the licking flames. The spreading fire backs the child into a corner of the store with no alternative exit.

I don’t think; I act. Now an expert at unlocking the safety seal, I snap the plastic locks off all four extinguishers, point and aim. I pull my cart along, dampen the flames as I go, and try not to breathe. Smoke burns my eyes and lungs but the need to get to the boy overpowers any fear I have. It’s exhilarating, actually, watching the flames disappear step by quick and steady step. Heat pulses along my skin. My heart hammers in my chest.

“Gotcha,” I say after emptying two cans of foam. I snatch the scared child into my arms. He either understands I’m here to rescue him, or he’s so disoriented by fear that he wraps his little arms tightly around my waist. I turn to exit the way I came, only now, the smoke is thicker. I can’t even see the crowd through it, and I panic for a short second. Oh, God, is this it? Is this how I die, saving a child in Target? Attempting to play firefighter when I hate everything to do with those cocksuckers?

At least I’ll die a hero.

At that, the ringing of loud alarms fills my ears and wetness rains from above, clearing both my mind and the smoke.
Sprinkler system
. Of course. All large buildings have them. I probably didn’t have to go all renegade after all, but no one was helping this kid. I hunch over and use my body to shelter the little boy from the spray above.