by Anne Jolin
The bastard knows exactly what he’s doing to me. “I’m coming.” My voice drops to a sultry purr only he can draw out.
After sliding my panties down my legs, I pull his shirt over my head.
He’s busy massaging shampoo into his hair as I step under the spray. I only stand next to him for a second before kneeling.
“What are you doing?” he asks, his voice deep and raspy.
Licking my lips, I look up at him. “Making you glad I came.”
“THE TRANSFER ON THE BROOKSWOOD Estate went through this morning, and we have thirty-six hours remaining on Kensington Plaza.” Dave from my accounts department is droning on about the comings and goings of our business ventures, and while I should be paying more attention, I find the entire process excruciating when it keeps me away from my girl later than I expected.
My watch reads six-fifteen p.m., and I inwardly grown. After pulling out my phone, I frown when I don’t see a message from London. She always messages me a selfie of her and Street during their evening turn in, and that should have been at least thirty minutes ago.
It’s been three weeks since the first night she stayed at my place, and I’ve been insatiable since. There’s rarely a morning I don’t wake up with her in my arms, and I want to spend the rest of my life on this Earth seeing her eyes.
“Mr. Tucker?”
Lifting my gaze across the boardroom table, I see Lydia’s head stuck through the door. “Yes?”
Her face is scrunched in concern, and immediately, I begin to worry.
“Larry Daniels called. He wasn’t sure of your cell number and called the office instead.”
“What’s wrong?” I’ve already stood up, and I grab my briefcase as I walk towards her.
“London suffered a fall earlier this evening. She’s at Alberta General now.”
Before the last word is out of her mouth, I’m in a full jog through the office. Forty-five minutes and, by the grace of God, no speeding tickets later, I’m throwing the Corvette in park outside the emergency room.
Running through the doors, I head straight to the nurses’ station. “My girlfriend, London Daniels, was brought in a while ago,” I rush out, one word tripping after the next.
“I’m just on hold. I’ll look that up in just one minute for you, sir,” the older woman behind the desk says.
“Where the hell is she?!” I shout across the desk.
“Easy, cowboy.”
My head swings to the side to find London sitting in a wheelchair being pushed by her brother.
“I’m right here. No need to yell at the innocent hospital staff.”
I want to scream that this isn’t the time to make jokes; my heart’s leaping from my chest, and I have to swallow the panic that’s been building over the last hour.
“Are you okay?”
She opens her mouth to answer, but it’s Owen who speaks.
“She was helping with the afternoon feed and slipped in the hayloft. She decided it would be a good idea not to mention it to anyone until Aurora found her doubled over at the side of the barn.”
“He’s making it sound worse than it is.” London glares up at him. “They said I have a fever and gave me some medication for the pain and swelling. With rest, they don’t think it will have damaged my injury any further.”
“You need to be more careful,” I scold. “I’m taking you home.”
She has me help her stand and laces her fingers behind my neck. “No, Owen is going to take me home. You’re all worked up and you need the sleep.”
“No fucking way!” I shout.
“Branson, stop.” She soothingly runs her hand down the side of my face. “The doctor said I need rest. You have a board meeting first thing in the morning, and we both know I’ll get no sleep if you come with us.”
“I can’t leave you,” I protest. “Not like this.”
“I’m going to go straight home and crawl into bed. You’re not missing anything, and I’ll call you first thing in the morning, okay?” She kisses me sweetly on the lips.
Once again, I’m inclined to give her whatever she wants. “Okay.”
THE AIR IS SO WARM.
Sticking one foot out from underneath the covers, I seek refuge in a cold draft, but come up short. I’m burning up. Sweat is beading on my forehead from the fever, which hasn’t let me rest since the accident yesterday. Each movement feels as if it’s taking place underwater. My backside protests as I roll onto my stomach, the swelling and pain barely manageable, even with the painkillers.
The air feels wrong. It’s too thick.
The sound of hooves repeatedly connecting with wood and a horse’s wild neigh combat their way into my muted senses.
Panic.
I recognize the anxiety in the sound of the horses’ strained cries just as my lungs heave, a violent cough assaulting my chest.
Smoke.
My eyes fly open as I move to all fours, forcing myself off the bed. It’s too much movement too soon after the flare-up of my injury, but fight or flight has kicked in and there won’t be much time. The room is heavy with the first billows of smoke coming from somewhere else in the barn. It’s so hard to breathe.
The barn is on fire.
I hold the sleeve of his shirt against my mouth, sucking in lungsful of air as safely and as frequently as I can muster. The long-sleeve flannel no longer smells like him, or maybe it does, but all I can smell now is fear. Fear and smoke.
Pressing the back of my other hand against the door, I sigh when it doesn’t feel hot. There’s no fire in the loft stairwell. I slide my feet into the work boots next to the door, forgoing the time to put pants on over my underwear.
The aches in my body protest wildly as I descend the stairs two at a time, gripping the hot steel railing as if it were a direct lifeline to my safety—perhaps it is.
Beneath the second floor, the barn is a maze of horror. Smoke has nearly engulfed the entire main floor, and the sound of horses’ cries threatens to buckle my knees. After stumbling to the barn doors, I pull them open one at a time. It occurs to me that fire needs oxygen to spread, so this could increase the burn, but I won’t have time to take the horses out one at a time. They’ll have to run, and they’ll need the space.
Looking up at Daddy’s house on the hill, I briefly consider calling for help, but the effort would be futile. They’d never hear me. The thunder is rolling in and I’m already short of breath.
Using the wall as a guide, I pad towards the stalls closest to me. Flames are licking the rafters above the aisle, and adrenaline floods my system at the sight.
Street is the first horse I reach. After sliding the latch on his stall, I swing the door open and scream at him with everything I have. “Run! Git! Go!” I choke on the air, banging on the wall simultaneously. The sound coupled with the burning fire scares him and he bolts from his stall.
I repeat the process with the other horses. Each time I move faster, the pain in my back increases steadily. In less than two minutes, I clear the right side and then move to the left. I hunch lower to the ground, where the air is still a little thinner, and hug the stalls tight. It makes it easier for me to find the latches, but also, the horses are panicking and they’d barely notice if they trampled me in their haste to save themselves.
I’m faster this time. There are less horses on this side of the barn, and the more wood the flames devour as they grow in size, the quicker the horses take off on their own without much encouragement from me.
Reaching Chil’s stall, the last one, I breathe in relief when I realize he’s right next to the second set of barn doors flanking the left side of the building. After unlatching his stall, I yank it open and stumble towards the doors.
Pull.
Nothing.
Pull.
Nothing.
The chains are rattling, but the door won’t budge. It’s locked.
But we never lock it.
Panic creeps up my throat as I lean against the wall for support
to move again. When I pass the open stall, my eyes barely register what they see. Chil is standing in the middle of his stall, but he’s not making any attempts to leave.
“Run!” My muffled scream loses itself in the smoke. I muster everything I have into repeatedly kicking the wood door.
His large grey frame barely recognizes the sound of my voice, his ears pulled backwards.
“Achilles, please!” I beg him, tears streaming down my face.
He lowers his head, one of his front legs starting to bend.
“No!” I shout, stepping into the stall. “You can’t lie down. We have to go!”
Large eyelids flutter open and closed, and there’s a wheeze in his chest as he continues to sink onto his front knees.
“Please!” I yell, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling upward.
Nothing.
He won’t move.
“I can’t leave you,” I sob, putting my entire body weight into lifting his. “Get up! Achilles, please! Get up!”
His back legs start to buckle, and my heart breaks when I have to let go of him. His body falls to the side, nothing but his chest rising and falling.
My legs finally give out, and I sink slowly into the sawdust, my bare knees not even slightly protesting at the ground. “Achilles,” I sob, crawling towards him.
The sawdust around his nose flutters, his shallow breaths barely audible in the chaos.
Flattening my palm across his neck, I pet him slowly. “I really need you to get up, buddy, okay?” I bargain with him. The wetness from my eyes stains his beautiful coat.
My other hand rubs down his forehead, his eyes closing from the touch.
“I love you, Chil.” I lean down, whispering into his ear. “I can’t go without you. Please.” I don’t even know who I’m begging now—if it’s him or God.
His breathing seems to be getting worse, and his body is so hot—too hot. After crawling towards the wall, I use it to help myself stand. After unlatching the water bucket hanging on the far side, I bite my lip as I use what strength is left in my body to carry it to him.
Kneeling down behind him, I rest the bucket on the floor. Then I scoop the water and pour it over his neck. “Does that feel good, buddy?” My voice is choppy, and my nose is running from crying heavily.
I keep pouring the water over his chest, on his neck, and down the length of his back. As I dip one hand in the water and rub the coolness over his muzzle, I lay my head down on his neck, my tears pouring freely into his mane.
“I can’t lose you.”
He lifts his head, and my heart pounds in anticipation. But just as quickly, he lets it fall back down to the floor. I don’t think my heart can take a break like this.
Sitting up, I pull on his neck with all of my might. “Get up, damnit!” I scream at his closed eyes. “I will never forgive you for this, Achilles! Please!”
The only indication that he’s heard me is the small twitch in his ears.
“Somebody help us!” My strangled pleas ricochet off the walls.
I’m not sure how much time has passed since I came downstairs, but the smoke is getting heavier and my lungs burn. Fire’s breathing down the doorstep of the stall, and I know I can’t leave now, even if I wanted to. The aisleway is completely engulfed in flames. I’d never make it, even if I could bring myself to leave him.
I curl up next to his body, one hand never ceasing the stroking over his neck and sweet face. “Just you and me, Chil. Forget the rest,” I say, repeating the last thing I said to him before we entered the ring in Greece, and hold him tight.
My eyes start to flutter, and I think of him, of Branson, my love. If I die today, I’ll die knowing what it feels like to love and be loved, and that makes all the difference. I was blessed.
“London!”
Bang. Bang. Bang.
“London!”
Willing my eyes open, I cough until I’m certain my lungs will spill out of my mouth.
“Yes?” I croak, looking around wildly but coming up short.
“London!”
Daddy? “I’m here,” I try to yell, but it barely comes out a whisper. After scooping my hand into the last bit of the water, I swallow it, clearing my throat. “I’m here!”
“Are you okay? The doors are chained shut. We can’t get in.” His voice is strained.
Once again, the tears come easily. “I’m fine,” I call through the barn siding. “Daddy, Chil won’t get up. Something’s wrong with him.”
The sounds of multiple raised voices are muffled, but Daddy’s is clear. “We’re going to try to cut through the wall, honey. Is there something you can use to cover yourself up?”
Looking around, I struggle to focus my eyes, but eventually, they land on Achilles’ flea blanket.
“I’ve got a blanket!” I holler back to the wall as I tug it down.
“I need you to keep your back to the outside wall and put that over you, okay, sweet girl?”
I nod to myself before realizing he can’t see me. “Okay.”
After dragging the blanket, I pour what’s left in the water bucket over it. Then I drape it over my shoulders and spread my arms open like wings to cover as much of Achilles as I can.
“Tell me when you’re ready.”
After pressing a soft kiss to Chil’s neck, I call out to Daddy, “I’m ready.”
Something loud rings out—a chainsaw?—and I force my eyes shut as the harsh sound ripples around me.
How long we wait like that, I have no idea. But, eventually, an engine revs before a loud breaking sound, which are followed by a huge rush of cool air. Too scared to move, I stay still, my head resting on Achilles’ body.
“London.” Daddy’s voice envelops me.
He tries to lift me into his arms, but I hold on to my best friend with everything I have. “I can’t.”
“It’s time to let him go, London,” he whispers.
“No, Chil, please!” I cry out as Owen pulls my arms off him. “Don’t leave him here!” I beg them. “I need him.”
The rain splashes onto my face. Then I see that the barn wall is now lying on the ground behind our tractor.
Looking back to where we came from, I watch the smoke swallow him.
Achilles.
MY TRUCK SCREECHES TO A halt behind the flashing lights of the first responder vehicles, the windshield wipers repeatedly blurring and clearing the scene before me like slow torture as the rain beats down on my car. Had you asked me in that moment how I’d driven there, I wouldn’t know. I was already halfway to Willow Bay when the emergency call came in. Something about having left her, despite her demands, hadn’t seemed right, and I’d wished with every fiber of my being that I could go back and stay with her.
Aurora had called, and even though it took me minutes before I could fully understand what she was saying in her panicked state, I knew it was bad. The main barn had caught fire on the South side and London was inside. They only knew that, because the horses were all over the property, and the only person who could have let them out in time was my girl.
I jump out of the truck, not even bothering to shut the door behind me as I scan the crowd. Where is she? The firemen who arrived just in front of me are now setting up their hoses and coordinating with the police on scene. But where is she?
My heart’s never been tethered to another person’s, not like with her. When she bleeds, I bleed. When she aches, I ache. When she’s scared, I can feel it. All the emotions are in my chest as if they are my own in some right.
The rain is only getting heavier, the thunder laying claim to heaven in the sky, and soon, my clothes are completely soaked.
Something loud cracks out into the air, but it’s not by nature’s choice. Picking up into a run, I maneuver my way through the trucks and people. Then a tractor engine revs. I can’t tell if I’m sweating now or if it’s just the rain, but the closer I get, the more I can feel her. Her pain is rippling through the night sky.
When I reach the lef
t side of the barn, my brain can barely register what my eyes are seeing. There’s a huge section of barn wall missing just a few feet from the doors. My heart sinks into my gut when I see what’s wrapped around the handles of the doors. There’s a steel chain, but what makes it deadly is the gold-and-black lock holding it together. The emblem reads: Tucker Farms.
“Don’t leave him here!”
The beat of my heart stills at the sound of her voice, and I frantically search for a visual to confirm. When Larry steps through that hole in the wall with her in his arms, it’s enough to nearly kill me.
She’s wearing my red flannel shirt that she loves so much, but her legs are bare. Smoke has ashen her fair skin, streaks of tears bleeding clean paths down her cheeks as she sobs into her father’s chest.
“I need him.” Her eyes are red and panicked as she looks behind herself.
Following her gaze, I see the faintest image of a horse disappear into the smoke.
Achilles.
I needed to hold her, but that isn’t what she needs right now. She doesn’t need someone to save her. My girl knows how to save herself. So what she needs is someone to save him.
I grab the first fireman I see by the arm. “You listen to me,” I say, tone of my voice insinuating that I won’t have my time wasted. “I don’t care what your priority was before this second, but now, it’s to get that”—I point towards the open wall—“horse out of there. Now.”
“We could save a huge portion of the building,” he argues. “That horse is—”
Pulling him towards me, I lean down to his face. “That horse is everything. You do whatever it takes to save that horse. Fuck the barn. I’ll build a new one. Do you understand me?”
He looks over his shoulder, where another, older fireman has been watching our interaction. The man nods.
“Understood,” says the younger man.
“We make no promises on the state of the horse if we can get him out,” the older man—my guess is he’s the fire chief—warns me.
“Thank you.” My voice shakes as I release my hand.
The sound of her sobbing in the distance is like a shot to the heart, especially as each cry is broken up by violent coughs. When I turn to look at her, I’m halted in my tracks. She’s struggling against her father’s arms, and there’s only one thing she’s looking at—me.
