Nash Brothers Box Set - Carrie Aarons Page 0,109

see anyone, I just have to go on instinct.

As I walk, the floorboards under my boots are literally melting. I feel the give of them with my weight. It’s the human equivalent of walking on eggshells. In front of me, I feel something move, and I bend, reaching out with my gloves. A hand fumbles for me, and I can’t even see a face, but I immediately crouch, trying to scoop whoever this is up.

And then the world commences to crumble around me, flames swallowing my body whole.

The last thing I see is a vision of Lily, her arms extended toward me, mouthing the words I love you.

17

Lily

From somewhere within the darkness of my bedroom, something buzzes.

I flip over, burying my head beneath the covers and throwing my leg over the enormous body pillow I sleep with. It’s probably a text from a friend out at the Goat right now, having a drink. Or maybe it’s an update from Facebook or one of my news apps. Either way, I’d made a plan to come to bed early tonight, and I was wiped.

In about three minutes, I’d be snoring into my white ruffled sheets.

The phone vibrates again, and I sigh. I’m on the verge of that dreamy peacefulness, that point where you’re right on the edge of sleep and nothing has ever felt so relaxing. But my cell has knocked me out of that alternate state of reality, and now I’m staring up at the ceiling in the darkness, debating whether I should pick the darn thing up.

I know if I do, the light will pierce my eyes, and I’ll have to shield them. I’ll end up bopping all over social media, and in another hour, I’ll glance at the clock and chastise myself for even giving in to the addictive piece of technology in the first place.

Weak, that’s what I am. Because I scoot over in bed, reaching for my nightstand, and turn my phone over. When I do, I squint at the screen.

Three text messages from Presley. Hmm, that’s odd.

Not because we don’t text all the time, but we don’t ever really talk at night. She usually reserves that time for Keaton and has never been much of a technology girl since I’ve met her. Her nose isn’t permanently pressed to the screen like the rest of us.

Punching in my password, I flick my thumb over the messages app and open them up to read.

Presley: Hey, do you hear those sirens?

Presley: Oh, never mind, Keaton just got a call from Bowen. There has been a fire on the outskirts of town. They think it might be the meth house.

Her texts are about ten minutes apart, and now that I really strain my ears, I can hear the sirens blaring somewhere in the distance. A fire … at the meth house. The one they saved Fletcher from almost a year ago, I remember the story. The local police had been trying to nab those guys for months, and now it looked like they’d gone and done their job for them.

I shouldn’t think like that, but those men were evil. I’d heard about what they’d said to Presley, what they’d done to Fletcher. Who knows how many more poor souls they’d enticed and trapped with their drugs? It was a morally corrupt business they were into, and any karma that came their way was deserved.

Even so, I sent a quick prayer up for everyone at the scene, for them to be safe from the fire.

Lily: Have you heard anything else? How bad is it? Is anyone hurt?

Sitting up, my foot begins to jiggle. The nervous energy travels all the way up my body, and into my hands, which shake slightly where I hold the phone. I click out of the message and scroll through some social media feeds, just biding time and trying not to worry. Presley isn’t answering, and I’m not sure why, but some sixth sense tells me something is wrong.

It takes Presley another forty minutes to answer me, and by that point, all the lights in my bedroom are on and I’m pacing.

Presley: There was an explosion, Bowen got called in to help. The house collapsed, not sure who was inside. That’s everything I know. Try to update you as my news comes in.

Dread swamps me, sending a cold sweat slicking down my back. I wasn’t with Bowen when he trained to be a firefighter, but it doesn’t mean I didn’t know he was doing it. While I