Page 38 of Save Me

“Let me help.”

“The whole building is compromised. You can’t go in there.”

I want to, but looking up at the black smoke that has now doubled, I know he’s right. Still, my body is full of adrenaline. What am I going to do? I want to run. Fight. Do something.

Instead, I pace. Back and forth and back and forth, watching my life burn down to the ground.

It takes hours. And then I, along with all of my neighbors, am told we can’t go back into the building. That the safety is compromised. The building itself is still standing, but there are windows at the bottom that have blown out, and blackened char lines the window frames. The black char goes all the way up to my window, which is also blown out. The lining along the side of my apartment has crumpled and twisted from the heat. A rumor goes around that someone’s air conditioner caught fire and started it all. All because of a damn air conditioner.

I’m sitting in my car, staring at my dash, when my phone buzzes again. Absently, I look at it.

It’s almost seven, which means I should head to Micah’s house.

I drop my head back on the headrest, completely exhausted. The tears that I’ve been trying to hold in all day burn my eyes. What am I going to do? I wanted all that extra cash to get Arthur off my back. And now it won’t even cover half of the recovery costs. A new bed? New couch? New clothes, new food, new microwave, new everything??

For a minute, I give up. I let the tears fall, overwhelming me in their grief. Why can’t anything work for me? Why does everything bad happen all at once? Hotels are expensive. Super fucking expensive. Where am I going to stay?

And in this moment, I’m weak. I’m weak because I just want a hug and some fucking sleep. And maybe some cuddles from Princess.

Princess. That makes me wipe the tears from my eyes. Yes. I’ll go see Princess. The thought brings routine back to the chaos. It’ll be fine. I’ll see him, and then I’ll…I don’t know. Sleep in my car. Do whatever I have to to get rid of Arthur, find a new place, and be free once and for all.

So I pull up to Micah’s house and park in his double-wide driveway, getting out and going up the perfectly white concrete steps. I raise my hand to knock, stifling down the horrific impulse to cry.

And then, the door opens.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

“Oh, hey!” Micah’s there with a soft smile on his face, and that smile almost makes me break down right here. The weight of exhaustion and despair is so, so heavy. I close my eyes, trying to get rid of the mortifying hot tears.

Micah immediately sobers. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” I answer quickly, trying to cover up any vulnerability that might be on my face. But it’s hard, and my throat is tight.

“Come in.”

I don’t want to move. I want to stand here until I can get it together, but then I hear Princess’ nails on the floor as he tries to escape. I pop my eyes open to see Micah battling with the black and blue ball of fluff, Micah using his foot as a blockade, and Princess jumping over it like Free Willy.

Immediately, I bend down and scoop Princess up, who gives an outraged snort. As soon as his soft, warm body is in my arms, I relax. I press him close to my chest, giving a soft squeeze.

“Is everything okay?” Micah is in the hallway and has turned to face me. He has me trapped against the door with nowhere to go, and I feel that itchy desire to flee.

Micah’s gaze flits between mine, then he takes a step back. “Let’s sit in the kitchen.”

My face burns. What the hell is wrong with me? I know I could take Micah on in a fight. Why am I acting like this?

“It’s okay, everything is fine. You can go to your appointment.” I put Princess down.

Micah pulls out a stool and sits away from me in the corner where he isn’t blocking my exit. “Everything doesn’t look okay. And why do you smell like smoke?”

I glance at the island, where there are two milkshakes with M&Ms on top, which makes my heart race so hard that all I can hear is it thumping in my ears.

“Maddox?”

Those goddamn M&Ms. Everything I own is now gone, and yet all I can focus on is chocolate. My throat tightens, and then shame overwhelms me. I can’t cry in front of Micah. He’d jump on me like a bear on a wounded deer. I consider continuing to try to put him off, but Micah has a determined purse to his lips, and I know he won’t let it go until I give him something. So, I dig deep to find the anger to protect me and say in a monotone voice, “There was a fire.”

“What?”

“At my apartment.” If I show him I don’t care, he can’t use it against me.