The Problem with Fire - M.E. Clayton Page 0,27

then opened my car door to get out. I left my purse and briefcase in the passenger seat just in case I needed to ball up my fists and smash Thomas in the face. I thought it’d be best if I were unrestricted as possible.

“What do you want, Thomas?” I asked rather rudely. I haven’t spoken to him since he’d accused me of spreading my legs for the neighborhood, and frankly, I wasn’t too keen on speaking to the jackass ever again. Also, Leta tutored students Mondays and Wednesday after school, so he wasn’t here for her.

He threw his hands up in surrender as he headed my way. “I’m not here to fight, Monroe,” he said, stopping only a couple of feet in front of me.

“Then what are you here for?” With Leta still in school like a lot of after-school activity kids, if there were ever an emergency concerning her, Thomas and I would both be notified.

“I figured enough time has passed where we could talk like grownups,” he answered, and my head jerked back.

“Grownups?” Oh, this was rich. “I’m not the one who showed up at your house, accusing you of sleeping with the entire neighborhood,” I retorted.

“Okay, okay,” he rushed out. “I can admit when I’m wrong, Monroe. I-”

“Oh, you can?” I interrupted snidely. “You can shit the fans, but not the players, Thomas. Quit blowing smoke up my ass and tell me what the hell you want.” Okay. Three days of out-of-your-mind-sex apparently did nothing for my disposition when it came to this buffoon.

“Look, Monroe,” he said, doing his best to keep his tone soothing. “Why don’t we go inside, so we can talk more privately?” But before I could tell him hell no, he added, “You can get out of your clothes, shower, and get comfortable while I get dinner ready.” My heart stopped in complete shock. “We can have a nice, civilized dinner and talk about Leta.”

He couldn’t be serious.

There’s no way he could be serious.

“I’m sorry, what?” I asked, not masking my shock at all.

“I said-” Both our phones chimed with notifications, and our eyes locked. It could be a complete coincidence, but there was only one reason both our phones would chime at the same time.

I dove into my car to grab my phone out of my purse as Thomas pulled his out of his back pocket. When I looked at the screen, my heart dropped. Opening my text messages, there was a notice and attached link.

Oh, God.

“There’s been a fire at the high school,” Thomas read, his voice tight.

I looked up at him and nothing else mattered in this moment. No matter how horrible he was to me, and no matter that he had dumped me like last week’s trash, I knew Thomas loved Leta. He adored her and I knew that.

He raced towards his car as I got back into mine. Doing my best to fight off the panic, I followed him towards Granger High School. With God blessing us the entire way, there’d been no red lights and minimal traffic. My heart felt like it was going to thump right out of my chest, my palms were sweaty, and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. It didn’t matter that I knew she was probably okay. If she were hurt somehow, we would have gotten a personal phone call and not a text. But as a parent, none of that logic mattered right now. I had to see Leta with my own two eyes for my brain, heart, and soul to compute that she was okay.

When we pulled up to the school, there were cars everywhere and I could see two firetrucks taking up all the parking in front of the school. I found the first available spot, which wasn’t a spot at all with how there were cars, kids, teachers, and parents littered everywhere, and barely had the car in park before I was jumping out, calling Leta’s name.

I was on the verge of a full-blown panic attack when Thomas’ hand grabbed me by the arm. When I looked up, he already had his phone pressed to his ear. “I’m calling her now.” I gave him a shaky nod and did my best to pull oxygen into my lungs.

My eyes darted around, and I was searching for my child with the desperation I’ve never felt before. “Oh, God…” I uttered, feeling the fear threatening to close in on me.

“We’re near the marker statue, Leta,” Thomas said into his phone,