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A thick plume of smoke gushed out when I rushed in.

It felt just like I was stepping into a furnace.

Seth was there, screaming at me to stay. Not to move.

But there was no chance of him stopping me.

Lifting my shirt to cover my mouth and nose, I edged in, following the smoke that was coming from somewhere in the kitchen like a target.

I made it to the swinging door. My eyes burned when I pushed it open, every inch of me swallowed by the heat.

An inferno.

I refused to let it become our hell.

“Rynna!” I shouted. Beside me, an avalanche of metal clattered to the floor, and I jumped back, dodging it two seconds before I became a pile of rubble right along with it.

God. It was so fucking hot. So hot, I swore I could feel my skin melting from my bones. But I pushed forward, adrenalin thrumming through me like a bullet. I screamed again, “Rynna!”

It was faint, barely discernable. But I heard something rise above the thunder. A foreign sound just to my right. Or maybe it was just some kind of sixth sense. An acute kind of awareness. A need inside that became my greatest strength.

Blindly, I fumbled that way, dropping to my knees, teeth gritted against the flames.

My hands, they searched, running over everything like the diner was written in Braille. Each bump and dip telling me to hurry. That every second that passed brought me closer to running out of time.

Then my hand, it ran over something solid but soft. Something sweet.

And I was struck with so much goddamned relief, because it was my girls huddled at the foot of the back door. Rynna was slamming a pot against the floor, guiding me.

I tried to push the heavy metal door open, but it was wedged shut, surely why Rynna hadn’t been able to get out.

I felt like my lungs were exploding, but I gathered all of me. All my love. Every devotion. Every hope.

I reared back and kicked it.

When it didn’t give, I kicked it again.

It burst open.

I wanted to shout in victory. In hope. I rushed, grasping Rynna from behind, my little girl still in the safety of her arms. I dragged them out onto the pavement of the back lot, as far as I could get them away from the fire, before I collapsed to my knees beside them.

I choked and coughed while around me voices shouted and sirens blared.

Someone was on a radio, calling for help in the back lot, three victims down.

But the only thing I could focus on was their ash-covered faces. Frankie clutched in Rynna’s arms. I didn’t want to touch them, worried I’d cause more damage, but I was certain my baby girl wasn’t breathing.

My already failing heart stalled.

Oh God, please, no.

Rynna dragged in violent, choked breaths, eyes wide, no coherency in their depths.

“Help!” I screamed. “Somebody help.”

Footsteps pounded around me, rushing in. Someone pulled me away. I fought to get back to them, but hands were on me, restraining. “Let them take care of them, man. You’ve got to let them take care of them.” Seth’s voice was grit in my ear.

I slumped forward, dropping back to my knees.

Fireman and paramedics swarmed. Working. A controlled, frantic storm.

My world spun, and one was in front of me, taking my pulse and asking me questions, if I was in pain or if I was having trouble breathing.

He just had no idea all my breaths were wrapped up in them. That I’d gladly give mine. Every breath. Every heartbeat. Everything. Just as long as they were okay.

I sat hunched over in the hard plastic chair, elbows on my knees, exhaustion in my bones. People hustled on the other side of the door that’d been wedged open a crack. But inside this room? Time had stopped. Nothing less than a mind-altering waiting game.

Dimness floated on the feigned peace, and that steady beeping of the monitor lulled me into a sense of security I was praying wasn’t faulty.

“You should go get some rest, man.”

I jumped when the muted voice hit me from behind. I scrubbed a hand over my face, trying to clear the daze, and shifted to look over my shoulder.

Kale stood there in his scrubs. Dude looked just about as weary as I felt. Since the second we’d rushed through the emergency room doors, he’d been running nonstop, making sure every test possible had been run on my daughter. Ensuring nothing was missed.

He’d been up all night and all of today.

“Think it’s probably you who should be taking a break,” I told him.

He let a smirk ridge his mouth. “Nah, I’m basically a super hero. Can’t keep me down. ”

Cocky asshole.

A light chuckle rumbled from my tongue. “That so?”

“Come on, look at me, you know it is.” He was all affable grins.


Tags: A.L. Jackson Fight for Me Romance