by A. J. Downey
Now was also the time to do this, while most of the building still sat empty. We only had two neighbors in the block of eight in the row, and it made things a lot less complicated when you factored in that most of the units were owned by a real-estate company intent on flipping them. I had lawyers involved and was pretty much looking to become an investor of sorts. I should see most of my money back with the increased values and sales of those empty units.
I was so excited about this and Veronica had been, too. We’d postponed putting my condo on the market until this could all be done; it would tap my pretty considerable resources, so by the time it was done, I would need the condo to sell, but I wasn’t worried. This all felt so right. Plus, real estate was pretty much a sure thing. Indigo City was only growing.
After the contractor and decorator had left, I went back up to the third floor and took a hot shower and settled into bed with my laptop to get some more writing in. There may have been no internet, but that never stopped me from doing my job.
I had my nightly call with Backdraft and he said he would be a little late getting to the brownstone in the morning. The next shift had some sort of in-service training and so his crew was holding over four hours later than they usually did for the next shift to get through it.
I went to bed feeling good about life, but I was in for a rude awakening the next morning. I got up and decided to get a shower but hadn’t slept exceptionally well. It was tough still, sleeping in the brownstone without Backdraft there. I was far closer to street level and could hear things out there. It wasn’t as quiet as the Echelon.
When I got out of the shower, I thought I heard something downstairs, out front, but dismissed it at first until I heard a definite crash and a ‘Woomf’ sound.
“Backdraft?” I called, knotting the belt on the satin robe I’d brought with me. I took up my phone off the card table we’d set up in here and I unlocked it, creeping to the top of the stairs.
“Hello?” I called, lightly taking the stairs and pausing on the second floor. I could smell it, then. The smell of campfire and burning plastic. I frowned and rushed to the top of the stairs to the first floor and let out a short scream. Smoke was creeping in underneath and between the cracks between the two front doors; flames were licking the outside of the frosted decorative glass panels.
I dialed 9-1-1.
“9-1-1 what is your emergency?”
“Yes, fire, I’m at eight-three-zero, Twenty-Third Avenue, Indigo City.”
“Okay, slow down, what’s the address again?”
I repeated the address and shouted “Please hurry!”
“Are you inside the residence?” the male operator asked and I shouted, “Yes!”
“Can you get out?”
“Through the back garden, I’m trying to get there now.”
I rounded the banister and the glass exploded in one of the doors. I jumped and let out a little scream and ran further up the hall to the kitchen, but froze.
“Oh, my god!”
Backdraft’s ex looked in the back window and gave me a savage grin. She backed away from the back door and there was shattering glass and that sound, as flames engulfed the back door.
“Ma’am? Ma’am are you still with me?”
“I’m trapped!” I cried. “She threw something, she set the back door on fire. Please hurry!”
“Who, ma’am, who threw what?”
“Um, this is my boyfriend’s apartment.” I coughed and covered my mouth and nose with the sleeve of my robe, choking on the rising smoke which stung my eyes. I squeezed them shut and went back for the stairs, skirting the flames eating their way up the door frame and chewing through the front door, the heat intense and unbearable.
“You can’t get out?” the operator asked again.
“No!” I wailed. “I’m going to try the second floor back terrace. I’ll jump if I have to!”
“No, ma’am, don’t do that, help is on the way.”
I got to the second floor just as something crashed on the stone of the second floor back terrace.
“Shit! She threw something up there. There’s no way out. Please, please, hurry! I don’t want to die.”
“You’re not going to die, ma’am, just stay with me. Help is on the way.” I shut myself into the third floor master suite and went into the bathroom up here, wetting a washcloth in the sink and putting it over my nose and mouth.
“I wish I could believe you,” I said, coughing, my chest tight with fear and smoke, my eyes burning with tears.
“You can, are you sure there’s no other way out?”
I heard glass shatter down below and sniffed.
“No. I’m trapped inside and the building is burning.”
“The fire trucks should be there any minute, just stay on the phone with me.”
“You’re recording this, right?” I asked.
“Yes ma’am.”
“Then I’ve got some things to say,” I said, my chest hurting with every rushing heartbeat.
“You just say what you need to, just stay on the line with me.”
31
Backdraft…
“Look alive, boys! Structure fire, one trapped inside!” Captain Walden yelled, as was his custom.
I was halfway into my gear when Ripley called out, “Wait, I know that address. Why do I know that address?”
“What is it?” I shouted up to him over the blaring alarm.
“Eight-thirty, Twenty-Third.”
“Shit! That’s my address, that’s why! Lil! Lil’s there!”
The truck fired up and I took my seat, my heart pounding in my chest. I dropped the communication headset onto my head. Barnaby’s voice came through as he looked at me from across from where I sat and said, “You’re fuckin’ kidding us, right, Backdraft? This is some kind of a fucked-up joke.”
I glared at him, and sternly grated, “You better fuckin’ move your ass, Ripley. This is no joke. I wouldn’t, not about that.”
The sirens wailed, we took turns at break-neck speed, and my heart sank when I saw the smoke pouring out of my front door.
“Shit!”
“Engine, get water on that, get water on it right now!” I screamed, and jumped out of our truck, ripping open the locker containing my gear.
“Calder, slow down, brother!”
“Don’t tell me to slow down! The love of my life’s in there!” I screamed back and ripped my mask down over my face, made sure it had seal, and put my helmet on. I grabbed down my axe and, Barnaby on my ass, climbed the steps to the burning front door. I didn’t even wait for them to put water on it, I hauled back and kicked the charred wood open, and trusted they would get it wet while I was inside.
Fuck, it’s already climbing the walls! I thought in a panic. I could see smoke pouring up the hall and went for the stairs.
“We got flames in the back,” Barnaby said over the radio.
“Stay with Calder!” the Captain came back.
“Lil!” I bellowed and someone muttered, “Goddamn,” over the comms. I didn’t care. I took the stairs two at a time and kicked open the doors to the back terrace. There was black on the stone, evidence of charring, but whatever accelerant was used hadn’t caught the doors or frame.
I went back, blowing past Barnaby, who cursed but stayed on my six. The smoke was thick, the visibility shit but not zero, not yet. I could still get around. I heard water down on the first floor blast the entryway and swallowed hard. It was bad in here for anyone without gear. Someone like my Lil.
“Lil!” I cried and busted open the door to the master suite on the third floor. It was smoky up here, by like, a lot, smoke traveling upward like it did. I ripped open the bathroom door and found her crouched and coughing through a soaked rag she looked up and lowered her phone from her ear, tears streaming down her face.
I crouched and broke protocol. I ripped off my helmet and took a deep breath, then, pulling off my mask, I gave her some air. She took three or four deep breaths and I said,
“I got you, babe, I got you. Deep breath, deep. One, two, three, gonna take it back now.” She nodded and took a deep breath and I pushed the rag over her nose and mouth. I put the mask back on, threw my helmet back on and pulled her into my arms. She clung to me sobbing and I hooked an arm beneath her knees and hauled us both up onto my feet.
“I got her,” I said into the radio.
“He does, he’s got her; we’re coming down.” Barnaby affirmed. We went back down the stairs for the front. The guys had drug a hose down the hall through the ruin of the front door and were putting out my kitchen.
I had her, though. She was in my arms, I had her.
I went out the front door to a smattering of applause from some of the neighborhood and some relieved cheers from the guys and went straight for the waiting gurney, Angel, and Lind. I set her down and grabbed the oxygen mask from Angel. He let me, hovering, concerned. Lil took the soot stained washcloth off her face and I put the mask in its place. She took deep and even breaths, staring at me as I nodded.
“Here, man,” Angel said, stepping in to do his job. “Get your gear off.”
Lil was shaking like a leaf, but I let Angel step in, dropping my helmet on the gurney next to her and pulling off my mask.
“Baby, babe, I got you, you’re okay,” I said as she broke down. She dropped the oxygen mask and I put my arms around her, holding her tight as she let loose a torrent of tears in the front of my thick fire jacket. I ripped off my gauntlets behind her back so I could touch her.
“You hurt? Baby, you hurt?” I demanded, running my hands over her.
“N-n-n-o!” she got out before she broke down in more uncontrollable sobbing.
“What the fuck happened?” Captain Walden demanded from nearby us.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t know yet.”
I held her tight, like I would never let her go, because I wouldn’t. Close. Too fucking close. What the fuck happened?
“Backdraft. Yo, Backdraft?”
“What?” I snapped.
“I want to run her to Trinity Gen, just to make sure she’s straight,” Angel said and I nodded and pried Lil back so I could get a look at her, smoothing her tangled hair out of her face, strands of it clinging to her snot and tears, as she was in full-on ugly cry.
“Babe, baby, calm down for me. Breathe, just breathe,” I said and took some exaggerated breaths, looking her in the eyes, showing her what I wanted her to do.
She nodded and mimicked me and she managed to calm down some and I put my forehead against hers, closing my eyes, just grateful she was alive.
“Angel’s going to take you to the hospital, get you checked out, but babe, you gotta tell me: what happened?”
“It was Torrid,” she said, and hitched a shuddering breath. “She threw something. Set the front door on fire. By the time I got to the back, I saw her through the window. She threw something again, I heard glass breaking, and then it was on fire, too. I couldn’t get out, I was so scared I wouldn’t get out.” Her voice grew higher, strained, and she broke down into fresh sobbing. I felt my face shut down into grim lines and looked at Angel, who looked as pissed as I felt.
“Take care of my woman,” I said and all the fuel in me had been used up. All my patience, all remaining thought, feeling, or emotion that I had for Tori was used up. I didn’t feel anything. I just wanted Lil safe. I shook my head and said, “Get her to Trinity Gen, don’t let her out of your sight, and make sure she gets back to her obsidian tower and that she stays there. You feel me?”
“I’ll call the club. We got you,” Angel said, and I nodded.
It took me a moment to pry Lil off of me and when I did, it was to capture her soot-stained face between my hands.
“I’ll see you at home, babe. I love you,” I said, looking into those storm swept baby blues of hers.
“What? Why? Why can’t you stay with me?” she asked startled.
“Protocol, babe. I’ll be with you as soon as I can.” I kissed her forehead and she nodded against my lips.
“Okay.” The one word was tremulous, her voice so fragile it made my heart give off this fractured ache.
“I love you,” I repeated.
“I love you, too,” she said, and let Angel and Lind take care of her.
“Thanks, man,” I told him and he shook his head.
“Not for this, not today,” he said and I jerked a nod. He handed my helmet back to me and I took it.
“What’re you going to do?” he asked.
“What I should have done a long time ago. Get that crazy bitch put away where she can’t hurt anybody anymore.”
“Amen to that,” he said and Lind called from the rig, “Let's go, partner.” She shut herself into the back with Lil, who was laying back, oxygen flowing, and Angel jogged to the driver’s seat of his rig.
I looked back at the smoldering wreckage of my front doors and cursed.
“We get back to the house, you go take care of business,” the Captain said and I nodded.
“Thanks, boss.”
“Don’t mention it.”
Too many hours later, I was standing outside the bar Torrid tended. I heaved a breath. They weren’t open yet, but she’d be there. I knew her routine. Apparently she knew ours, too. I pushed my way into the dimly-lit interior and she turned from where she was sliding a bottle back onto a higher bar shelf. She lowered herself down flat on her feet and turned with a wicked grin.
“Surprised you called,” she said and I ground my teeth.
“Like I said, we need to talk.”
“Figured out Little-Miss-Perfect fantasy author isn’t cut out for this life?” she asked and I knew the smile that curved my own lips wasn’t friendly.
“What makes you think that?”
She laughed and it was a haughty sound. I slid onto one of the bar stools across from her and she leaned on the bar, squeezing her breasts together with her arms to make them pop in her low-cut top. She had her palms flat on the bar top and she worked herself back and forth on them, studying my face.
“Why’d you do it?” I demanded.
“What? Set your place on fire? Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,” she said and the bitch was so smug. I wondered how, for the life of me, I could have ever loved her, even for a minute.
“You’ve got some brass balls,” I ground out.
“That makes one of us. I’m guessing she went running back to the west coast? Make you feel like a man for a minute? Rushing in there to save her?” I clenched my fists.
“You listen to me,” I started, but I was cut off by her sharp laugh.
“No, you listen. That was punishment for making me look like an asshole on TV. You either leave the little bitch or stay single for longer than a minute, or I’ll do a lot worse.”
“What, like kill me?”
“Not you,” she said and straightened up. “Wouldn’t want to damage what’s mine.”
“You’re sick, Torrid. You need some real professional help,” I stated and stood up.
“Oh, please. You promised forever,” she spat and I turned back from where I’d been about to walk away from her completely.
“That’s before you decided to fuck other men, Tori!”
“Would it make you feel better if I found you some hot chicks to bang?” she asked.
“No! What will make me feel better is you, leaving me and Lil the fuck alone!”
“Mm, not gonna happen, lover boy. Might as well get used to it. I’m not going away.”
“We’ll see about that.”
“Not like you have any proof, Backdraft. I’m not stupid.”
“Lil saw you, Tori.”
“And what physical evidence is there? That’s right, none. It’s your guys’ word against mine, so you just go on now and break it off with her.”
“Fuck you,” I snarled.
She vaulted up onto the bar, sitting on it, and spread her leather-clad legs wide, leaning back on her palms.
“Ready when y
ou are. You always give it to me best when you’re angry, why do you think I keep pissing you off?”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I grated and walked away for real that time.
“You’ll be back!” she called at my retreating back. “You always are!”
I stepped back outside and put my wraparounds on, pulling my phone out of my pocket. I turned off the recording app, and pulled up my contacts.
I dialed out and was connected on the first ring.
“Yeah, Youngblood, meet me at the 10-13,” I said, before he could even say hello.
“See you when you get here,” he declared and I kept walking down the block for my bike because fuck Torrid. I wasn’t going to get angry, not this time. This time, I was going to get even. She didn’t fuel my fire anymore and I’d used all of it up where she was concerned anyways. Lil was my food, my life, and I wouldn’t roar back to life completely until I was with her and I’d be damned if I let this consume us.
I rode to the 10-13 and Skids unlocked the door for me. It was before opening and the guys were in the fishbowl. He clapped me on the back and dug thumbs into my knotted shoulders as we walked back there. I took the steps and went in first.
“What have you got?” Youngblood asked.
“Got her dead to rights,” I said and set my phone in the center of the table and hit play.
The guys around the table listened in stony silence.
Yale looked pretty disgusted. “I can’t use it,” he said. “Not unless you get the investigating officers to sign off that it was a result of a legally-procured wiretap. One my office signed off on.”
“You boys have all the pieces, but it’s a slippery fucking slope,” Skids said.
“Sounds like a no-fucking-brainer to me,” Narcos said, licking a line along his rolling paper to seal his cigarette.
