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Her life in my hands.
Nothing would stop me.
Nothing.
Using every ounce of strength I had, I kicked the window three more times. When it finally shattered, I uttered a sharp roar and scrambled forward.
“I’m getting you out, baby. Hold on. Just hold on.”
“Va-leer-io,” she moaned, fighting to get to me.
“Just relax.” I reached across her, trying to unfasten the seatbelt. It was stuck. Jesus Christ. The heat was oppressive, the crowd forming suffocating.
I pulled and tugged, becoming frantic and furious.
“Use this, bro,” Gage said, the very Swiss Army knife I’d given him as a Christmas gift when he was a rough and tumble kid appearing in my line of sight.
There were no words.
There was no time.
“Get back. Get back!” someone was screaming.
“Sir. We got this,” a deep voice said.
“Like hell you do.” I sliced through the belt, gently tugging her closer.
The flames were getting close.
The smoke made it tough to breathe.
The sirens continued blaring, horns honking in every direction.
But I was focused.
Completely focused.
Echoes everywhere.
People yelling.
Smoke rising.
I managed to wrap one arm around her, carefully easing her from the seat. “I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you.”
“Get back! It’s going to blow.”
While I didn’t recognize the voice, it didn’t matter. I was scrambling, fighting to protect her while crawling away.
Flames had reached the back, near the gas tank.
Hands grabbed my arms, muffled voices screaming my name. As soon as I was pulled upward, I picked her up, cradling her against my chest. I turned, yelling into the sky as I willed my aching legs to move.
Move.
Move.
The explosion was horrific, the force driving me off my feet and while airborne, I managed to look down at her beautiful face.
