by Lisa Lace
“Victor’s not one for empty threats.”
“He hasn’t threatened you, has he?”
“What do you call the notes?”
Carla frowned. “He’s a stalker. Obviously psychotic…But what’s his end game? What does he want from you?”
“God knows. He just won’t let me go.”
I hadn’t even told Victor I was leaving him when I’d made up my mind last year. I’d just packed my bags and left while he was at work. I just knew that telling him to his face would have been a disaster. He’d have never just let me walk away, so I’d crept away like a thief in the night. That would have wounded his ego.
I leaned forward and told Carla more of the story. “When I first filed a restraining order against Victor, he went insane. He slashed the tires on my car. He made threats to my family. He’d stand outside my sister’s house, screaming that I was a whore who was going to pay.”
“Oh my God, that’s awful.”
“I reported the damage to the police. They said there was no proof it was him. They wouldn’t offer me any kind of protection. They wouldn’t arrest him. They said there was no hard evidence to tie him to the damage. I reported him when he started harassing my family, but the police said my family didn’t have a restraining order against him, and they couldn’t do anything unless they had an order in place. When they called the police on Victor, he’d always be gone by the time they showed up. We just couldn’t get him caught in the act. Nothing could be done. I bet he feels invincible.”
“I’ve told you before, honey: this ain’t Johnstone. Nobody gives a damn who Victor is. He’s no big shot here. If he’s breaking the law, he’ll be arrested. No special favors.”
“If that were true, then maybe it would be a good thing if he showed up. An easy way to get him arrested. I just don’t think it’s going to be that easy.”
“Hopefully, he won’t show up at all,” Carla said. “Hopefully he’s just trying to push your buttons and shake you up. Hopefully, he’ll just go away when he realizes you’re not going anywhere…you’re not going anywhere, are you?”
I shook my head. “No. Not this time.”
I heard the words, but I still felt doubtful. Inside me was a deep instinct to run. Inside my mind, a globe was spinning, throwing out options of all the places in the world I could escape to. I fought against that instinct to stay in Brayford, where my life was; where Nate was.
“What did Nate say about it all?”
“He’s worried about me. Furious at Victor.” I sighed and took another sip of wine. “I wish he was here tonight. He put an extra lock on my door.”
Carla smiled. “I told you he cares.”
“I know. I’m very lucky to have him. I just hope this doesn’t get too much for him. I’m praying that Victor will just go away, or fuck up and finally get arrested.” I set down my glass. “I worry about Nate, too. I worry about where his next call will take him. Funny enough, I never used to worry when Victor was on duty. It was a blessed relief when he wasn’t around.”
“You do worry about them,” Carla empathized. “I worry about Sam constantly. You just have to trust that they’re well-trained and they know what they’re doing. They’re a smart crew; they’re good at their jobs.”
“I just don’t know how I’m ever going to fall asleep tonight.”
“My offer stands, sweetie. You can stay here. I can set up the sofa for you.”
I smiled but shook my head. “Thanks, Carla. That’s really sweet of you, but I think I’ll go back eventually. After all, you’re only down the hall if I need you, right?”
“That’s right.”
I didn’t want to stay at Carla’s, just in case Victor was watching; just in case he knew exactly where I was. Just in case his violence affected Carla. I would never put her in harm’s way. I would stay, I would finish my wine, and I would hope that an evening with a good friend and a few drinks would be enough to help me sleep.
Carla put on a girlie movie, and we settled back with our wine to watch it. The cheesy rom-com and the drink helped take the edge off, but I still felt uneasy. I stayed for as long as I could, but as it reached the early hours of the morning, Carla was beat and drifted off on the sofa.
I gently shook her awake. “I’m off, Carla. Thanks for letting me stay.”
Her eyes wearily opened. “Are you sure? You can stay if you want.”
“Thanks, Carla. But I’m gonna get out of your hair.”
“Come by to the coffee shop tomorrow.”
“I will.”
I returned to my apartment. It seemed incredibly dark inside. Incredibly quiet. Incredible alone. I closed the door behind me and bolted it twice. Then, I rushed to my bedroom and shut that door behind me, too. I drew the drapes and then sat on the edge of my mattress, staring at the closed bedroom door.
I took a few deep breaths to calm myself down. I felt petrified. What if Victor was watching me right now? What if he was already in the apartment?
I told myself to calm down. There was no way he was in the apartment.
Still, I felt I had to be sure. I crept cautiously out of my room and went around room by room, switching on the lights. Once all the shadows were chased away, and I was convinced that Victor wasn’t inside, I returned to my room. I still left all the lights on.
As promised, I gave Nate a call.
“Jenna?”
“Hi, Nate.”
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah. I was just calling to let you know I was back in my apartment.”
“Okay. Did you lock the door?”
“Yes.”
“Both bolts?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. And did everything feel all right? Nothing seemed out of place?”
“No. I just did a sweep. All the lights are on.”
“Good. Okay. Well, I don’t want you to worry tonight. As long as that door is bolted, Victor won’t be able to come inside, so get yourself in bed and get some sleep. I’ll call you when I finish my shift.”
“All right. Thanks, Nate.”
There was a pause on the end of the line for a moment. We both knew there was nothing left to say, but neither of us wanted to say goodnight. Once the phone was hung up, we both knew that the distance between us would feel too much.
“I love you.”
That brought a smile to my face and let my heart flutter. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath in, letting the power of those words strengthen me. “I love you, too.”
“Sleep tight, Jenna.”
“Night, Nate.”
I hung up and felt so incredibly alone. At the same time, I felt better for having heard Nate’s voice.
I got into my pajamas and dove under the covers of my bed. I tucked the sheets up under my chin and curled into a ball. My eyes were itching from tiredness, and my body was relaxed from the wine, yet I still struggled to get to sleep.
I kept repeating comforting mantras in my mind: Carla is just down the hall. There are two bolts on the door. Nate will call me in the morning. Victor can’t get to you.
I repeated them over and over until, at last, I fell into an uneasy sleep.
The smell of smoke woke me up. Dark drifts of smoke were billowing under my bedroom door. I could hear the crackling of flames outside.
I sat up in bed and screamed. There was a fire in my apartment.
My eyes were already stinging and watering from the smoke. My lungs were filled with it, and I started to cough. I tried to remember what you were supposed to do when there was a fire, and I rolled out of bed and began to crawl along the carpet.
I rushed to the bedroom door without thinking and pulled it open. My instinct was to escape. I realized my mistake as soon as I pulled it open. The whole hall was in flames. Once I’d opened the door, I could smell gasoline. Gasoline?
The flames had already engulfed the hall. From the glimpse while I had the door open, I guessed that the fire had started at the entrance to my apartment, and had q
uickly spiraled up the hall.
The carpet was on fire, and the flames were peeling the paper off the walls. The smoke blinded me, and the heat seared my skin.
Choking, I slammed the door shut and ran to the other side of my room by the window. I was shaking and started to cry. Terror was making my limbs feel heavy. There was a ball in my throat. I felt like my thoughts were lost in the smoke, too. I could barely think straight. My whole mind was buzzing with fear. I couldn’t hold onto a single thought.
It took a moment to gather my senses enough to race for my cell on the bedside table. It was hard to make a decision about anything with the smoke blinding me and making me choke. With shaking hands, I dialed 911.
“911. What is your emergency?”
“My apartment is on fire! Help me! Please, help me!”
My voice came out as a piercing shriek when I screamed down the phone.
The operator remained calm. “Where are you, ma’am? I need the address.”
“I’m at Walton Apartments, Brayford.”
“All right, ma’am. I have you located. We’re sending help. Now, I’m going to need you to listen to me carefully and try and answer my questions, all right? I’m going to keep talking to you until help arrives.”
I was crying and shaking and nodded in response. It took me a moment to remember that I needed to reply. “Okay.”
“Where are you in the building, ma’am?”
“I’m in my bedroom.”
“And where is the fire?”
“In the hall.”
“Can you reach an exit?”
“No, I’m trapped.”
As soon as I said the words, the reality of the situation sank in, and I began to sob. I was trapped. Ahead of me were walls of fire. Behind me was a window with a five-story drop onto concrete. How was I going to survive this?
“Okay. I’m going to need you to shut any doors between you and the fire.”
I tried to push out the panic from my mind enough to answer the operator. “The door is shut.”
“Good. All right, now, I’m gonna need you to go to the window. Do you have a window in your room?”
“Yes.”
“All right. Go to the window and open it—just a little. Only open it enough that you can call out. Can you do that?”
I did as I was asked, and slid the window up just a fraction. “It’s open.”
“Stay by the window. When you see the fire engine, you’re gonna need to shout out. Which apartment are you in?”
“5D.”
“I’ll let dispatch know. Keep calm. What’s your name?”
“Jenna.”
“Okay, Jenna. Stay calm. How you doing?”
I was shaking too much to answer. The heat of the fire outside my door was building in my room. It was already sweltering, and the smoke was overwhelming. I felt my head begin to spin and I sunk down under the window.
“Where are they?”
“They’re on their way, Jenna. You’re doing great. They’re close. Really close. You should hear them soon. Stay on the line, now. Stay with me.”
It was getting hard to breathe. I was coughing so hard it felt like my lungs were being ripped out of my chest, and I folded at the middle. I could see the flames themselves now flickering under my door. Soon they would engulf the room, and me too if I didn’t do something.
I lifted myself to my knees and looked down at the street outside. Could I do it? Could I jump?
“Jenna? Are you still there?”
I kept clinging to my cell, but I didn’t answer. I was fixated on the ground below, and the choice I might have to make if those flames got any closer.
In that moment, I felt the loss of everything that could have been. A fulfilling career, a long relationship with Nate, my own kids; a happy life. It was all minutes away from being lost forever. I was moments away from the flames.
Could I jump? That was the question. The decision I would have to make. My fingers slid under the window pane, ready to lift it up; ready to sit on the sill and get one step closer to falling. Just as I was about to lift the frame and get ready to jump, I heard sirens and saw the fire engine come reeling around the corner.
Maybe it wasn’t too late…
I crouched down low and tried to keep breathing. I dared dash to my bed to grab a pillow, and I held it over my face to protect me from the smoke. I was suffocating. My eyes were stinging. My body was starting to feel heavy. My vision was starting to swim.
I heard the fire alarms of the building ringing. My hazy thoughts turned to Carla and the other residents. I felt my heart drop into my stomach—what if they didn’t make it?
Even with my head swimming and my thoughts confused, I knew one thing for sure: this was no accident. Victor had done this. I could smell the gasoline. The fire had started at my door. My life was dangling on the line because of his jealousy and mania. But how many other lives were on the line, too? I prayed for Carla. I prayed for them all.
I dragged myself onto my knees with the last of my strength. My throat and lungs were burning, but I summoned all the voice I could to scream out the window. I reached my arm out under the window pane to wave, careful not to open it any further in case the air fueled the flames.
The engine came to a stop on my street. Looking down, I could see that a crowd had gathered to watch the rescue. Behind me, the flames had caught the covers of my bed. The heat was so intense that it was starting to form waves. My skin was turning pink; not yet burning. But soon. If I wasn’t rescued in minutes, then my skin would be the next thing to succumb to those flames. I screamed louder.
I screamed even though my voice was hoarse and my energy was waning. I screamed even though I felt like I was close to giving out. I screamed because I wanted to survive. I didn’t want it to end this way.
Through stinging eyes, I could see the fire engine begin to extend its ladder towards my window, and relief washed over me.
“Yes! Yes! I’m here! Thank God…I’m here!”
I looked over my shoulder. Those flames were so close—but I thought I might make it. Survival was possible. Escape was possible.
There was a firefighter on the ladder coming towards me. He was dressed head to toe in protective gear, his face obscured by a helmet and face shield. He was climbing the steps of the ladder even as the rungs still stretched towards me.
By the time the ladder reached my windowsill, he was already at the top, ready to reach out to me. Still clinging onto my phone, I knelt in front of the window and waited for him.
When he reached me, the firefighter put his fingers under the pane and wrenched it upwards. The flames swelled at the sudden influx of oxygen, and I screamed.
The firefighter reached out to me. His voice was muffled under his face shield. “Take my hand! Climb out the window. It’s okay…I’ve got you.”
I was terrified as I lifted my leg to step out the window. I felt my head spin when my first leg swung over the sill. The firefighter took my hand with one of his, the other circling my waist and helping me out the window. I was shaking.
“It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
I was sobbing as my bare feet met the cold rungs of the ladder, and I clung onto that firefighter for dear life. He clung onto me. The ladder began to descend.
As we started to move towards the ground, I looked back up at the window where I’d been. Those flames were incredibly close to where I’d been. My apartment was engulfed.
Looking down, I saw the residents of the building milling in the street in a crowd. Everybody was in their pajamas. I could hear children crying.
All this…All this mayhem. I closed my eyes against the guilt I felt and pressed myself against the firefighter. I was dizzy and scared of falling. He held me close.
“I got you.”
I knew that voice. The way those arms held me was familiar. It was hard to see past the face shield, but I thought I knew who my rescuer was.
The ladder was fully descended. The firefight
er helped me onto the ground and removed his helmet.
I felt a fresh sob gather in my throat when I saw that it was Nate who had saved me. I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him. He held me like he was never going to let me go.
“You saved me.”
“Thank God, Jenna. Thank God you’re okay.”
Nate
I held Jenna in my arms and breathed in the scent of her. I could still smell the jasmine beneath the smoke. The feeling of her hair against my cheek filled me with the greatest sense of relief I’d ever known.
When the call that there was a fire at Walton Apartments had come into the station, I’d felt my heart drop beneath my feet. Instantly, I’d known. It was too much of a coincidence that a fire would break out at Jenna’s apartment building after she received those two notes from her ex.
That knowledge had filled me with dread, then a rush of pure adrenaline. That adrenaline had pushed me to move faster than I ever had.
The two-minute journey from the station to Jenna’s street had seemed eternal. I’d fought enough fires to know how quickly they could spread, and how destructive they could be. My mind had immediately started swimming with images of Jenna surrounded by flames, choking; trapped.
I’d fought back my fears for her through sheer determination that I would not let anything happen to her. I made that promise, and I intended to keep it. As soon as we pulled into the street, I’d been the first out the engine. My eyes darted straight to Jenna’s window. Sure enough, there she was—screaming for help.
She was at the window. Good girl.
I dashed to the ladder and screamed at Lewis to get it moving. The moments it had taken to reach Jenna had felt a lifetime. When she stepped out that window and into my arms, I felt all the fear I’d been pushing back crash over me. I held onto her for dear life.
Now, we were on the ground, and she was safe with me.
I drew back to examine her. “Are you all right?”
She was shaking head to toe but managed a nod. “I think so.”
My eyes traveled over her to check for injury. Her skin was flushed from the heat, but apart from a small mark on her arm, she hadn’t been burned. She was grimy from the soot of the flames. My hands ran down her forearms, and I held onto her as if to check that she was real.
