Calculated Risk (Triumph Over Adversity #1) - Lynn Shannon Page 0,42

rubbed her fingers, as if they were stiff. “I don’t understand. Where is she? Chloe would never leave the door to her house unlocked, even if she was in a hurry. Safety is very important—”

A whoosh came from the living room. Jason’s heart stuttered and then took off as a familiar sound reached his ears.

Fire.

He grabbed Addison’s hand and ran into the hallway. Smoke assaulted his senses. The entire main living area was ablaze. The flames transfixed him, transporting him back to Afghanistan and the bombing.

Jason’s scars burned, the pain unreasonable and unrelenting. He screamed. His knees hit the floor as he collapsed to the ground.

Twenty-Three

The fire was terrifying, but the screams coming from Jason were more so. He was having a flashback. Addison dropped to her knees beside him, shaking his shoulder, shouting to be heard over the smoke detector’s warning siren. “Jason.”

He ignored her, lost in the memory and trapped in his mind. Heat from the flames poured over Addison. The entire living room was on fire, including the area in front of the entrance. They were trapped in the apartment.

The scent of gasoline assaulted her nose, erasing any doubt that this was a planned attack on her. Or Chloe. They still didn’t know where her client was.

“Jason.”

She shook his shoulder more forcefully this time. Again he didn’t respond except to howl in pain. The sound sank into her with fierce claws. She’d never heard anything like it. Somewhere inside, her heart was breaking for Jason and what he’d been through. What he was suffering from, even now. But there was no time to waste. The flames were growing by the second and the smoke was getting thicker. They couldn’t stay put.

Addison ran into the bathroom and grabbed the towel hanging on the bathtub. She soaked the fabric with water. A hasty search of the bathroom yielded two more towels. She wet those as well before going back into the hall.

Jason was still on the ground, clutching his shoulder. His eyes were staring some place she couldn’t see. His face was contorted with pain and grief. Reliving the death of his fellow Marines? That’s what it looked like.

She touched his face with the wet towel, hoping it would shock him back into the present. “Jason, it’s Addison. You need to get up. Now.”

No response. The flames were hotter, and the smoke burned Addison’s lungs. She could try dragging Jason but doubted she had the upper body strength. Her mind raced as she tried to remember tips about suffering from PTSD. She’d had her own bouts with it after her divorce. Most of the advice was self-directed. Take deep breaths, remind yourself that you're safe, focus on the five senses in the surrounding space.

None of that was helpful at the moment.

Addison’s hand tightened around the wet towel. Her father was a fan of military movies, the kind with drill sergeant’s barking out orders. If Addison couldn’t reach Jason by being herself, maybe she could by being someone else.

“Gonzalez, snap out of it.” Addison yelled the commands. “Get to your feet, Marine. Move it!”

Jason blinked. His eyes landed on her face, and she recognized the minute he actually returned to the present. The haze in his gaze cleared.

She tugged on his arm. “Let’s go.”

He shot to his feet, grabbed her hand, and pulled her into the master bedroom. Addison slammed the door behind them. The buzzing from the apartment’s smoke alarm faded. She shoved the wet towels into the cracks at the bottom and top of the door. It wasn’t much against the thick smoke, but it was better than nothing.

Glass shattered. She turned in time to see Jason pull his hand—covered in his jacket—back from the window. He knocked out the rest of the shards before leaning out.

Addison raced to his side. Fresh air poured into the room and she drew it into her lungs. “Is there a fire escape?”

“No.” Jason screamed for help, his voice weakened by the smoke inhalation.

Addison joined his efforts. No one appeared in the alley. The location was off the main road, and most of the people living in the apartments were at work. Smoke thickened in the bedroom, and despite the fresh air, Addison started coughing. The heat from the fire increased the room temperature at an alarming rate.

Would they die from the smoke? Or from the flames?

Her gaze darted over the bedroom. “Maybe Chloe has a fire ladder.”

“She doesn’t. I already checked the closet and under the bed.” Jason turned to face