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But there was none of that.

Just me, lying in a very comfortable sun lounger, the sun beating down on my bare skin.

Something tightened around my hip.

I looked down.

It was a hand.

A man was gripping my hip.

And I was not lying on a super comfortable sun lounger. I was lying on a man. A man corded in lean muscle, obviously dozing if his closed eyes and even breathing were anything to go by.

How he could sleep with someone splayed on top of him, I had no idea.

But when I focused on his features, I had an exact idea of why he could sleep. Because this was a dream, and impossible things happened in dreams. Like me having enough money, free time and childcare to just lay on a beautiful beach.

And me lying on Lance with his arms around me, like it was some normal everyday thing.

Something stung the back of my neck.

The sun.

It was no longer warm.

It was hot.

Like uncomfortably hot.

My chest suddenly constricted and my lungs seized as I choked out a cough. My entire body rattled with the force of it, but the man below me didn’t move.

He was still in the dream.

I must have been too.

But why was I so damn hot.

And why couldn’t I breathe?

My eyes snapped open, I wracked my body with the force of the cough that had woken me up.

My eyelids stung with the bitter acrid smoke that was filling the room.

Something bright flickered outside my door.

Fire.

Oh my god.

The house was on fire.

My throat was closed up, eyes were swelling, I felt like acid was filling my stomach, but I moved.

I sprinted to Nathan’s room, trying to cover my mouth the best I could.

The visibility in the house was decaying quickly, but I could see a small form on his bed. I scooped him up, blankets and all, trying to cover his little mouth and nose the best I could while still giving him the opportunity to breathe. Oh my god, was he still breathing? How long had I been dreaming on a fucking beach while my son was inhaling the smoke from our house burning down?

I couldn’t think about that.

He was breathing because he had to be. I’d keep him breathing by getting us out.

It was a blur of smoke and flames, running the short distance from Nathan’s room to my front door. It seemed like it took a year, with tears running out of my stinging eyes, flames seeming to scorch layers of skin off my face.

I couldn’t breathe.

The heat was unbearable.

I could smell my hair burning. Maybe even my flesh.

I took no notice.

I got us to the front door, unlocked it with fumbling hands. Smoke alarms screeched, crazy beeping was coming from the security alarm. That could mean someone knew what was happening, someone was coming to save us.

If we waited, it would be too late. Something in me knew that. If I waited for someone to come and save my son and me, we’d die.

I would not die.

I covered my hand with Nathan’s blanket to turn the handle.

Nothing.

I tried again.

It wouldn’t budge.

I put my entire weight behind it and it moved a little, but something was jammed into it.

Heat licked at my back and I could feel the thin cotton of my tank burning off me.

I had to find another way out.

The back door off the kitchen was out of the question, since most of the kitchen was currently in flames.

My eyes went to the windows, my only options.

Most of them were small, we could fit through if I smashed them, because Luke and Keltan had put security locks on them so we couldn’t open them farther than a crack. If I smashed them, there would be a high chance of both Nathan and me getting cut. The one behind the sofa was larger and went straight into the flowerbed in our front yard.

I didn’t hesitate. I moved, jostling Nathan in my arms, finding my bowl of crystals and smashing the window by throwing the bowl and the crystals at it. Considering the bowl was fake marble, it did the job.

The sofa, which by some miracle was not on fire, so I managed to use it as a boost up to the window and out into the cool air that was rushing in and feeding the fire that was licking at my heels. I used my free arm to brush more glass away but didn’t waste time in making it a safe exit.

I jumped out, sharp pain erupting from my foot and arm.

It didn’t matter.

I landed on cool soil, my lungs seemed to be coated in blood, my throat thick in ash, my eyes soaked with acid, every blink agony.

I kept going until Nathan and I were safely out of the flames.

It was then I opened the bundle I was holding.


Tags: Anne Malcom Greenstone Security Romance