Allison Brennan: Love me to death

“Sean, do you smell something?”

“Shh.” He had to concentrate or he’d miss the sound and feeling of the clicks.

One . A tumbler fell into place, and he turned the other way, all the way around, then listened very carefully …

Lucy freed herself from the handcuffs, then crawled over to Carolyn. “We’re leaving, Carolyn, and you’re coming with us. I won’t let him hurt you again.”

Sean focused on the lock … except he then smelled what Lucy had smelled.

He glanced up the stairs. Smoke billowed under the door. Then the lights went out. Lucy gasped and Carolyn whimpered.

“Sean, you have to get out-go-”

“Not without you.”

“Sean-” She left Carolyn and reached for his hand.

“Lucy, I’m not leaving.” He kissed her through the bars. “Now, shh, I need to listen.”

Now he heard the fire growing quickly above him as he concentrated on the tumbler.

Click .

He had the second number. He was focusing on the third when he heard rapid gunfire upstairs.

“I need a gun,” Lucy said.

“My ankle,” he directed.

He felt Lucy unholster his backup gun, and she aimed it at the door.

He had to go slow because if he missed the click, he would have to start all over. But the noise overhead interfered with his hearing.

Lucy watched the door, since Sean’s back was to it. She heard shouts and voices, then the door opened, smoke billowing into the basement from the kitchen. The crackle of the growing fire terrified her. She didn’t know how they were going to get out. She aimed her gun, praying it was SWAT or Kate or someone …

It was Miller. He was bleeding, but he aimed and fired his gun at the same time Lucy did. Something stung her ankle, but she didn’t stop pressing the trigger of the nine-millimeter until there were no more bullets. Miller stared at her as he fell back against the railing and tumbled down the staircase, landing with a dead thud she heard over the crackling of the fire.

She twisted around to check on Sean. He was sprawled on the ground.

“NO!”

The lock was open and she pulled it off the cage, pushed open the door, and crawled out.

“Sean, dammit! No!”

“I’m. Okay.” His voice was weak.

“Where are you hit?”

“Vest.” He sat up, not bleeding but obviously shaken and out of breath, then pulled Lucy into a tight hug.

Lucy stumbled over to where Miller had fallen down the stairs when she shot him. She pulled away his gun, even though it was obvious he was dead.

“We have to go,” Sean said. “Carolyn!”

The girl didn’t move, just stared, nearly catatonic.

“Is she hurt?”

Lucy crawled back into the cage.

“Carolyn, we have to go now .”

Carolyn shook her head.

“He’s dead! I killed him. Please, Carolyn. You don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. We have to go!”

Carolyn hesitated, and Lucy grabbed her under the arms and dragged her out. Carolyn cried out in pain, but Lucy didn’t stop. She knew the girl was injured, but getting her out of the burning house was paramount.

“Sean,” Lucy said, “can you carry her?”

“Can you walk?”

“Yes.” She didn’t know if she could. She touched her ankle and came away with blood. It hurt, but she thought she was only grazed. “Go, she’s really weak.”

Sean was obviously torn, but picked Carolyn up and draped her over his shoulder. Lucy pulled herself to her feet. She tried to walk, but her left leg crumbled beneath her. Sean turned around, panic in his expression.

“Go!” she said. “I’m coming.”

She crawled across the floor behind Sean. He went up the stairs and through the door. She was halfway up the stairs when the ceiling sagged above her and she screamed. The fire was so loud she knew no one could have heard her. The burning wood, the creaks and crackling-she coughed and reached for the railing to pull herself up. She hopped on her good foot, using the railing for support.

Fingers of flames reached through the open door. The wood railing, weakened by Miller’s fall, quickly caught fire. The stairs themselves creaked and she feared they’d collapse from the top, dropping her to the ground below with no way out.

At the top of the stairs, Sean emerged. He stepped onto the short landing and the stairs swayed dramatically. He stepped back.

“Lucy, hurry!”

She let go of the burning rail and crawled up the stairs as they swayed. She felt everything shift downward and she reached for Sean …

He grabbed her wrist as the staircase collapsed. He was coughing, his face black with soot, but he pulled her up, every muscle straining in his neck and arms. They collapsed on the kitchen floor, coughing. The heat from the flames devouring the house was intense.

“Luce,” Sean coughed as they slithered on their bellies through the smoky kitchen.

A figure dressed all in black came in. He wore a SWAT mask. He grabbed Lucy by the underarms and pulled her through the house and out the front door.

“Sean!” she cried.

“I’ll get him.”

Her eyes stung and she couldn’t see clearly, but she recognized that voice. Noah Armstrong. He ran up the stairs and into the burning house.

She stared, terrified she’d lose Sean, that Noah would die trying to save him. Miller must have used accelerant, and coupled with the age of the house and the old, dry wood, the fire had spread in minutes.

The roof caved in and the house seemed to shift as it swayed. She coughed, and Dillon was suddenly at her side, putting a portable oxygen mask over her face.

She took a couple of breaths, then pushed it aside.

“Lucy, you’re bleeding.”

“I’m okay.”

Dillon hugged her tightly.

“Sean-”

“Noah is getting him out. Are you really okay?”

She couldn’t answer. She stared at the door. Please, please!

The house continued to collapse in on itself.

Sean and Noah hadn’t come out.

“No,” she moaned. “No!”

Dillon hugged her, trying to shield her face, but she pushed him away. “Lucy-”

She’d been so cold in the basement; now she felt burned from the inside out.

The entire place was an inferno. Every plank of wood glowing in the hungry flames. Then the house crumbled as the weight of the second story forced the entire structure to collapse.

Her mouth dropped and she stared. Sean.

No. Oh, God, please .

Dillon squeezed her hand. “Lucy, you need medical attention. Please. You’re bleeding.”

She stared at the melting snow, saw drops of blood falling from her arm, her ankle, her head. Tears of blood, weeping over a loss she couldn’t comprehend. Hope for a normal future was severed by the cruelty of fate.

Kate knelt down. Lucy stared at her. “Why?” It was the timeless question she never had an answer for. And neither did Kate.

Dillon held both of them, but Lucy felt nothing. She was dying inside.

Hans ran over. “They got out the back!”

Lucy stared at him in disbelief. Was this an illusion? She’d seen the house collapse. “You’re sure?”

“I’m positive. Sean and Noah are fine. So is the girl you saved. She’s in the lifeline helicopter now.”

Two SWAT team members flanked Noah, who had his mask off, his face black with soot, and Sean, who now wore Noah’s mask, as they trudged through the melting snow toward the triage area in the driveway near the SWAT van. Dillon helped Lucy stand and she hobbled over to Sean.

He came right to her and held her tight.

Four Days Later

Lucy hobbled down the stairs, her left foot in a thick bandage, her right arm bandaged as well. The stitches underneath itched, but she couldn’t do anything about it.