I pull her along, more rough than I would be at another time, made clumsy with urgency. Once we reach the tree line, I can breathe again. We look a mess. We’re both covered in soot and mud. It streaks across our pale nightgowns. I’m shaking. Maybe because I’m afraid, but part of me also knows it’s cold out. It has to be under forty degrees, and we’re wearing light cotton that ends at our knees. I wish I’d thought to bring a jacket for Paige. She’s going to freeze to death before we get to safety. Or my phone to call for help.
Or the kitten, while we’re sending up useless prayers.
“Wait here,” I say, dashing to the old shed. It’s a little close to the house for safety, but I move quickly. There’s a tarp inside. When I get back to her, I wrap it around her body like a blanket. Not exactly comfortable, but it should keep more body heat inside and protect her from the wind.
A faint siren reaches me on the wind, and I look down across the water to the beachfront village. Red and white lights bounce off trees. I hope that’s coming for us. They can definitely see the flames from here. At least there’s help on the way, but it’s got to be fifteen minutes out to make it over the bridge and up the mountain.
There’s a crash from inside the house, and I flinch. Beau is inside there.
Paige stands there with the army green tarp wrapped around her. She looks extra pale beneath the heavy plastic and the streaks of mud, like some kind of fairy who fell down to earth. I’ve seen her with a hundred different expressions—playful and angry and curious. She stares at the house with a haunted resignation. This was how she looked when she found out her parents died. I wasn’t there, but I already know. This is soul-deep grief.
No. I won’t let her grow up without family. I won’t let Beau die, not on my watch. I’m the expendable one here. Not him.
I kneel down in front of her. “Wait here, understand? Right by this tree. Don’t go anywhere.” I want to tell her not to go anywhere except with me or with Uncle Beau, but the truth is she may not see either of us again. Don’t think like that. “Wait for the people in uniforms. They’re going to come in a big fire truck with lights and sirens.”
She gives me a solemn nod.
That’s all I need to turn around and rush into the house. Smoke hits me like a wall. It makes me stagger back. It’s so thick that the air is heavy and solid as I try to push through.
I’m disoriented. Dizzy. I barely know which way leads deeper into the house and which takes me outside again. It’s like a maze without walls. I could become lost in here, never finding Beau, never finding anything. There’s a shout, and I turn to the left.
The sitting room. It’s where we had drinks before the dinner party. Where Beau licked me after. Now it’s a disaster, the lush leather furniture covered in debris.
Beau’s trapped under a massive beam that looks twelve inches wide and twelve inches deep. It spans almost the entire room. It looks almost strong enough to hold up the second floor. At least it did before it fell down. He’s shouting something to me, but I can’t hear.
I make my way over, tripping a few times, burning myself on hot metal.
Everything is a blur, made hazy from tears in my eyes.
He shoves something small and warm in my hands. I’m taken back in time to when I first met him outside. The lights from his vehicle blinded me. The rain and mud made the world topsy turvy. He handed me a kitten back then and he hands me one now.
I hold her under one arm and pull with the other. It’s useless. If he couldn’t lift the beam himself, there’s no way I can do it—and especially not one-handed.
Indecision. Uncertainty. It paralyzes me. “Go,” he shouts. I can’t hear him over the blaze, or maybe that’s only my fear, but I can read his lips.
I’ve had an uneasy relationship with God since I can remember. He took my mother first. Then my father. How could someone all knowing, all seeing, allow what happened in my bedroom in my first foster home? It would be so much easier if I didn’t believe in him. Then I would not have to blame him. Now I pray to a God that forsook me long ago to hold on. To let Beau live another ten seconds, twenty seconds. The thirty seconds it takes me to run the kitten outside and push her into Paige’s waiting arms, her hoarse cry of relief echoing across the cliff.
Then I’m running back toward the house.
Fog and incessant drizzle have made the ground wet. My foot goes out from under me as if I’m tripping on a banana in a cartoon. I land hard on my face. That’s the irony of the rain here. It’s not enough to put out the fire. Only enough to make it hard to escape.
Debris blocks the entrance, but I climb my way over, wincing at splinters and burns. I’m not going to let Paige grow up without family, but if I’m honest, it’s about more than her. It’s about me. Somewhere along the past few months, I fell for Mr. Rochester.
It would break my heart to love him. It’s already broken.
I reach the living room. His face contorts in fury when he sees me. No explanation needed. I know he’s pissed at me for coming back inside the house. I couldn’t wait for the firefighters. Even ten minutes could be the difference between life and death.
With both hands I pull on the edge of the beam. It barely groans in answer.
I search the room for something to use as a lever, but there are only charred remains and a lovely gold-crusted lamp that I never even noticed before which has somehow remained upright. When I get close, Beau snatches me to his chest. He presses kisses over my forehead and cheeks. “Get the fuck out,” he growls, even as he kisses me more. It’s messy and elemental. We’re facing our mortality together. It’s more intimate than sex.
“Get out,” he says again, his fist in my hair, giving a little shake to punctuate his words.
“I can’t go without you,” I tell him, panting against his lips.
“You’ll die.”
“Maybe—” I don’t bother to explain with words. I only show him, pushing my legs beside his under the beam. Maybe if we can both push up at the same time, it will dislodge it.
It doesn’t move. I have even less impact than I did before.
It feels like trying to lean against a wall and knock it down. Useless.
He puts his forehead against mine. “I need to let you go. You said that before. And it was right. I need to let you go, Jane. You have to go.”
It’s a cage. A hallway that closes at both ends. I can’t leave him here to die. Not even to save myself. I stare at him as a kind of peace settles over me. There’s nothing to be afraid of once you decide to die. Is this how my father felt? My mother?
Is this how Paige’s parents felt?
He sees the answer written on my face.
His eyes widen. His nostrils flare. “No. No. You can’t make me watch you die, Jane. You can’t make me go through that.” He pushes me away. “I love you.”
“What?” He’s never said that to me before.
“I love you, goddamn you. Get the fuck out of here.”
I love you too. I want to tell him, but I don’t have the breath. Or the time.
There’s a shudder from the entire house. A groan.
I look up in time to see the ceiling cave in. A hand at the back of my head. It pushes me down. Strong arms shove me underneath his body. There’s a loud sound.