Burn Page 2

  I back away with my legs trembling so hard that my knees are knocking together. The only other door to this closet is locked from the outside.

  I do what I remember from some random class I took in some random grade and tear my button-down off. I don’t even give myself enough time to undo the buttons. They pop off as I tear the cheap, worn fabric from my shoulders and roll it up to shove under the crack in the door.

  I always thought I’d die a virgin, but I thought I’d die an old virgin. I wouldn’t die a virgin because I’d died too young. I’d die a virgin because I wouldn’t be able to shake off whatever it is about me that makes me man-repellant and I’d die alone in my house with a menagerie of cats.

  Now I know I’ve got the virgin part down.

  I’m going to die a twenty-year-old virgin.

  I keep stepping backwards until my ass is against the wall. Fear and adrenaline wrack through me as I watch the ceiling start to peel and burn and fall down around me. I get down on the floor, cowering in the corner as the smoke rushes toward me like a tidal wave.

  One-by-one the sprinklers on the ceiling start erupting, bathing the room in erratic sprays of water. It does a little to dampen the smoke, but I know from the water pressure in the toilet and how the tap only gives you drips and drops of brown water that whatever’s in the pipes in the ceiling isn’t going to last long.

  I hold my breath until my lungs feel like they’re about to burst. And then I can’t help but suck in a lung-full of hot, black smoke.

  3

  Flint

  As I walk toward her car, I picture her driving with the wind curling through her hair and a smile on her face.

  I get in and get acquainted with her. There’s a peace sign air freshener dangling from the rear-view mirror. A hula woman with bobbling hips is attached to the dashboard. I swallow thickly as I tap her on the head to get those hips moving.

  Her hips are going to be moving just like that by the time I’m done with her.

  In the bed, with my hands on her ass and spreading her open so I can feast my eyes on her pretty little pink parts. On the white sand beach of Hawaii where we’re taking our honeymoon and she’s smiling ear-to-ear next to the spit-roast pig while the hula ladies entertain her. I picture her joining in with them with just her grass skirt and triangle bikini top, but the idea of anyone besides me seeing those hips is making my head spin with raging possessiveness.

  I’ll rip my Hawaiian shirt off my back and wrap her up in it, drag her back to our hotel suite caveman-style and make sure my obsession is kept safe from the prying, dirty eyes of any other man.

  I’ll feed her pineapple slices and pina coladas until she’s had her fill, and then we’ll work it off with my cock slicing through her as I toss her around the hotel room, fucking her on every surface and kissing and licking every single inch of her.

  I will give her anything she wants. Everything she wants.

  I’ll lay the entire world at her feet. I know it as well as I know that my heart’s beating faster and faster as my gaze moves around her car, taking everything in.

  Being sealed inside here with her scent is making my cock rage. It’s unreal. I take a deep breath and her scent competes with the blaze still churning behind me.

  They should let that place just burn down to the fucking ground.

  If there’s one thing for sure, she is never setting foot in there ever again.

  I start the car and hit the button to turn on the radio. There’s some hippy-dippy shit playing on the classic rock station. I never liked rock and roll. I like classical and jazz. But I’ll buy earplugs and take her to an Eric Clapton concert if that’s what she wants.

  I’ll buy front-row tickets. I’ll get her a backstage pass. Clapton is a good-looking guy, and if she wants him to sign something for her, I’ll let him. It’ll hurt to let him talk to her and see how fucking beautiful and sweet she is, but if she wants it, I’ll make an exception for the god of rock if it pleases her.

  I hit the radio button again and look at the cardboard box on the passenger seat. It’s filled with textbooks on coding and computer science. I swallow thickly as I take one of the books out.

  It doesn’t look like any of these books have been opened, let alone read.

  I dig deeper into the box and find a black hoodie and a cell phone. Poor girl’s still using a flip phone. There are dozens of missed calls and two voicemails from numbers that aren’t stored. I flip the phone open and hit the button to listen to the voicemail.

  It’s a man’s voice, and I feel my fist curl around the phone so hard that I hear and feel the plastic start to crack in my hand.

  Cindy? Cindy, it’s me. You better get your fucking ass home. You better -

  I slam the phone shut. I don’t need to hear this shit. Better? He isn’t the boss of her. He can go take a fucking hike.

  If it’s her boyfriend, that’s fucking over now. He doesn’t get to talk to her like that. No one gets to talk to her like that.

  She takes orders from no man but me from now on. And when she takes orders from me, it’s for her own good, her own pleasure, her own purposes.

  Like get on your knees. Open up that pretty pink mouth. Spread your legs and let me see the most perfect thing on god’s green earth.

  She does what I say, and she does it because I know what’s good for her.

  Whoever - or whatever circumstances - were making decisions for her up until today is over. Whatever lead her to working in this dump is now a speck in her rearview mirror. I know she wouldn’t have chosen to work in this place if it were up to her, and from now on, she only does what she wants.

  She’s mine now, and that means she will be taken care of. She is my priority. Not my top priority, my only priority. She belongs to me and that means everything she ever wants or needs is taken care of. I exist for her and her alone. Every second without her is a second that I’m wasting not fulfilling my purpose.

  Until today, my purpose was fighting fires. Starting today, my purpose is fighting whatever keeps us apart. And then when Cindy is by my side, my purpose will be keeping her happy. Spoiled.

  Cindy. My lady. My lady bug.

  Bug.

  Warmth spreads through my chest.

  Bug is the woman I can’t live without.

  I shake my head to get myself back to reality. I have things I need to take care of here. I toss the phone back into the cardboard box and pull her hoodie to my nose with a long, deep groan. The scent of lemon and peppermint bathe my synapses in golden glory and make my hard cock weep with precum.

  I consider stroking my steel-hard cock with this hoodie shoved up against my nose but I’m in full view of the strip and all of my colleagues and I can’t have anyone seeing what will be an intimate moment for me and Bug.

  I reach over and pop open the glove compartment. Her registration paperwork and license are in here. I grab the license and trace the corner with my thumb before stroking my thumb across her portrait.

  She just turned twenty, and she lives on the wrong side of town.

  Lived on the wrong side of town.

  Now, she lives with me.

  I slip the license into my back pocket and feel my chest burn with equal emotions pulling me in two different directions. I grab her phone again and call up the number that left the voicemail.

  “Cindy,” the man who left the voicemail says, “where the hell are you?”

  I don’t reply. I let him take a few breaths.

  “Cindy, you know I don’t like it when you fuck around with me. I need you to bring home a carton of smokes and a twenty-four pack. There’s money in the safe in the back and I swear to god if there’s anything missing the next time I check you’re gonna wish you’d been in that car with your mother.”

  I swallow thickly and feel my veins pump with energy. I think they might just burst out of my body. I grip the steering wheel so tight that my knuckles are bone-white and I squeeze the phone with so much goddamn anger that the plastic case cru
mbles in my hand.

  “This isn’t Cindy,” I growl into the phone, pulling it away from my ear.

  The guy on the other end starts yelling a string of obscenities and I shove my hand out the window, slamming the phone onto the ground.

  Her name isn’t Cindy anymore. It’s Bug. And she doesn’t belong to this piece of shit. She’s mine.

  When I step out of the car, I smash the phone with the heel of my heavy boot.

  It’s time to go catch my Bug.

  4

  Cindy (now Bug)

  When I come to in the hospital bed, it feels like my brain has been removed and replaced with a gallon of cement. I try to open my lips but they’re stuck closed and my tongue is glued to the roof of my mouth. I look at the bedside table and there’s one of those little dentist-office cups of water so I grab it and pry my lips open to take a sip.

  Everything’s spinning and bright. There’s a monitor beeping next to me and I lift my arms weakly to see bright red tubes sticking everywhere.

  The last thing I remember before I passed out was someone kicking the door down. And then a big, warm presence carrying me through the flames.

  And then him. The most handsome, damn sexy man I’ve ever laid eyes on. Big and brawny with dazzling eyes and a stern, hard jaw. I shiver as I slowly regain the memory of him throwing me over his shoulder and carrying me out of there.

  He was so strong and solid like a rock.

  I put my fingers to my lips. I’m still parched, and I don’t think the water did anything at all. I can barely even swallow. My throat feels as narrow as a paper straw and still equally as dry.

  The metal rings of the curtain around my hospital bed jingle and my heart flies into my throat.

  Is it him? Oh god, please let it be him.

  I don’t even know who he is. All I know is that I was slipping in and out of consciousness when he carried me to safety and that he was holding me so securely that I didn’t think I’d ever feel lost again.

  And that was all before he told me he’s taking me away.

  It’s what I was waiting for…I wasn’t looking for something. All along, something - someone - was looking for me.

  And he found me.

  My eyelids slid open when I felt his strong body lift me off that shitty linoleum floor. He looked away from me just as I was opening my eyes and I wanted him to look back down at me so we could meet, but he was too focused on getting me to safety.

  I couldn’t move. I could barely see, barely breathe, and I certainly couldn’t speak.

  But I felt like something in my body clicked into place. Something in my mind clicked into place.

  All along, I wasn’t looking for something. I was waiting to be found.

  And he found me.

  I felt the way he held me and gave me over to the paramedics. For a moment after I was placed on the gurney, I thought it was his bed. I expected to open my eyes to wake up inside a dream. To open my eyes and see my man’s arms wrapped tight around me.

  Then I opened them and got something better. I wasn’t dreaming. It was real.

  He let out a ferocious roar when they made me leave him. I would have jumped out of the ambulance and thrown myself down at his feet if I’d been physically strong enough. The next best thing was tossing him my keys. That car is practically like an appendage at this point.

  I don’t understand the feelings happening inside of me.

  I brace myself to see him again, but when the curtain is tugged aside, it’s not him.

  It’s a doctor. I feel my heart sink and all of the joy in my chest drain out of me.

  “Miss,” he says, swiping on a tablet. “Do you know where you are?”

  My shoulders fall and I feel like the serotonin faucet in my brain just got jammed up and rusted in an instant.

  The doctor is handsome. More than handsome. And he may as well be invisible, because I don’t think anyone will ever compare to the man who saved me.

  I try to open my mouth to ask him where he is, but I can’t speak. My mouth is too dry. My throat is parched like the Sahara.

  “Nod if you know where you are,” the doctor says, coming around to pour some more water into the cup from the pitcher on the bedside table. I drink greedily and when he puts his hand on my shoulder I recoil from him.

  I nod quickly and soften a little. He didn’t do anything wrong. I should be more grateful.

  “Here, have some more,” he says. Doctor’s orders. I drink the rest of what’s in my cup and put it out for him to give me a refill.

  “Thank you,” I tell him when I can finally speak. “Where is the man who brought me here?”

  The doctor looks down at my chart again.

  “You came here in an ambulance with a few paramedics,” he replies, giving me a once-over. Then he tears his eyes away from me like I’m gross. I’m used to that. I just did’t think a doctor would have such crappy beside manner as to let himself show me how repellant I must be. Especially in my current state.

  “No,” I correct myself, my shoulders falling, “I mean, where is the man who saved me?”

  “I don’t know,” he says dismissively. “We’re going to keep you here for a few days. You’re dehydrated and we’d like to keep an eye on you.”

  “A few days?” I say as I deflate. I try to move to get up but between all of the tubes stuck in me and the pounding in my head I can barely move. I give my legs a final-ditch effort to swing over the side of the bed, but when I start moving, I get too dizzy to do it anymore and nausea sweeps through me, making me break out in a cold sweat.

  “Yes,” he says, “I’ll have a nurse come by in a few minutes. Is there anyone you’d like us to call for you?”

  I nod softly and gather my hands in my lap to show that I’m complying.

  But I can’t stay here for a few days, and there’s no one to call. I gulp. I am not calling Ray. He’s gonna be pissed enough at me for letting the shop burn down, and that’s if he doesn’t kill me. Best to let him learn that information on his own, so I resign myself to letting the inevitable happen without my help.

  As for my part, I don’t have health insurance and I have absolutely no way to pay for all of this. I have half of the insurance money from my mom’s accident squirreled away and I was supposed to be going to Hawaii with that money. It was my mom’s favorite place and we never got to go there together.

  I was going to take that money and go start a new life.

  Well…as soon as I’d saved up a little bit more.

  Okay, a lot more. That money was a start, but I wanted some education under my belt when I arrived on the islands so I’d be able to get a job where you actually get to sit down. I’ve worked in that pawn shop long enough to crave a job where I’m not on my feet all day.

  The realization that I need to get the hell out of here right now squares in my chest and I try again to get up, but again I’m too weak.

  I keep my eyes glued to the seam in the curtains, believing that any moment my man will come through.

  A nurse pokes her head into the room and I try to smile at her, but I can’t.

  Where is he? I close my eyes and imagine him being here with me right now, wrapping me up in his strong, warm embrace. I can’t get the idea out of my mind. I know he would take care of me. And, a fact I’m so sure of as I am that he’ll keep me safe, is that I would do anything for him.

  I don’t understand it, but I feel like we’re supposed to be together, and I think I left my heart behind when I tossed him my keys.

  A minute goes by. Five minutes go by. I feel my heart slowly deflate like a balloon and drift down to the pit of my stomach.

  When someone puts their hand around the curtain, this time I don’t get my hopes up.

  “Hello dear,” an older nurse says to me as she shuffles inside. “You didn’t have any identification on you. What’s your name?”

  I open my lips to try to speak but nothing comes out except for a little squeak.

  I’m scrambl
ing to give her a fake name when a machine several feet away starts to beep. I’m saved by the beep when the nurse rushes away, finger in the air. When I’m sure she’s gone, I muster all of the strength I have and yank the tubes out of me and tip-toe my way toward the curtain.

  I’m able to slip out of the hospital undetected into the warm California night. Palm trees are swaying and a silky breeze tangles through my hair. The buttons on my shirt are gone, so I wrap my arms around me as a group of pretty, thin club girls laugh as they pass me.

  The only reason Ray was keeping me around was so he’d have cheap labor to work at his stupid pawn shop. If it burned down, I’ll have to make money so I can pay rent to him. I already know it. I just hope the money he gets from his insurance will distract him long enough that I’ll be able to figure something out.

  As afraid I am of going back to Ray, I’m more afraid of not being with my man. It isn’t even a question.

  Suddenly I feel lost again.

  I look up into the sky, at the twinkling stars and the swaying palm trees, and say a prayer.

  Please find me. Please. I need you.

  5

  Flint

  My obsession is reaching a fever pitch so hot I could burst into flames.

  With my uniform on, I’m able to infiltrate the emergency room without being stopped. I muscle through the white-tiled hallway until I’m at a desk where a nurse is typing at a computer.

  “Where is she?” I grunt at her, slapping Bug’s driver license down on the desk.

  The nurse peers at the license and studies Bug’s picture.

  “Oh,” she says as my heart slams into my chest.