“You’re sorry? Sweetie, everything I’m seeing is really starting to scare me. I knew that you were involved with the angels somehow, but I hadn’t realized you were this involved.” She almost sounded accusatory.
“I know, Mom. I’m sorry,” I murmured for what felt like the millionth time.
“Please tell me that Jenna and Jules aren’t there with you at the house,” she demanded.
Considering that Jenna was curled into me . . . yeah. “Yes, Mom. They’re here. Of course they’re here.”
“What?” she shrieked.
I pulled the phone from my ear, wincing at her high-pitched voice.
“Don’t you realize how dangerous it is right now?” I heard my mom ask when I put the phone back up to my ear. “There are all kinds of people on the internet and news going all crazy, making threats and accusations.”
“I know, Mom,” I whispered. “I promised Jenna that we’d leave tomorrow.”
My mother huffed. “Joseph, you’re my son, and you know I love you, but sometimes you can be an idiot.”
I lightly chuckled, trying not to wake Jenna. “I know. Trust me, I can be a moron.” I stared down at Jenna, adorably sleeping, and remembered what an idiot I’d been earlier when Sara showed up.
“You’ve finally found a woman who I love and approve of—you’re going to marry this woman, and she has the most adorable daughter. You will not ruin this, Joseph. This may be my last chance to have grandchildren.”
“Mother, you have grandchildren,” I reminded her. I spoke a little too loudly, and Jenna shifted. Then I whispered, “And really, this is just not the time to have this conversation.”
“Actually, I think this is exactly the right time to have this conversation,” my mother argued.
“There is no conversation to be had. Dad and I already had the birds and the bees talk, surely you don’t need to lecture me on how to make said grandbabies?”
Mom was flabbergasted for a few seconds, which made me smile. Then she changed the subject. “Do you know who called me today?”
“George Clooney?”
“This isn’t a joking matter,” my mom scolded. “Actually, I’m quite disappointed in you.”
“Why? What did I do this time?” I asked, exasperated.
“It was Sara.”
At the sound of her name, I groaned. “Really? She showed up today too. Trust me, it wasn’t pretty.”
“Sweetie, she thinks you two are going to get married and have tons of babies,” she explained.
I held in another groan. The image of Sara and me doing anything that could make babies made me sick to my stomach. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”
My mother huffed once again, something she did a lot when upset with me. “Don’t be ridiculous! I want you to have babies with Jenna.”
“Oh really?” I asked, trying not to laugh. “It’s funny you say that, Mom. A few months ago you were singing Sara’s praises, even after I told you how psychotic she was.”
“Well . . .” She paused. “I was beginning to think you’d never find someone, and with your age, I thought Sara was your last hope. You were always so distant around women. For a while there—and don’t you dare tell your father I said this—I thought you might’ve been . . . gay.” She whispered “gay” as if the word were dirty.
I closed my eyes in frustration. There was a reason my mom didn’t know much about my dating life. Every girl I’d introduced to her, she immediately loved and demanded I marry them and start populating the world with mini-Josephs.
“Mom, I am not gay.” I couldn’t stress that enough. Actually, I couldn’t believe I would ever have to clarify this to anyone—especially my own mother.
“Clearly!” she exclaimed, as if my preference for women was never in question.
“Can I please call you back? This isn’t a good time,” I breathed when Jenna stirred. I was trying desperately to get off the phone with her before I woke Jenna.
“Fine,” she relented. “But I expect a call back. I don’t want to hear news about you on the TV again without hearing it from you first. No more surprises. I’m old, and my heart can’t handle the stress.”
“Yes, Mom,” I said. “I understand, but you need to back off a little bit here. I’m a grown man.”
“No! I will not back off.”
“Course you won’t,” I grumbled under my breath.
“What was that?” my mom insisted.
I sighed. “Nothing. I’ll try to keep you informed—but remember, I’ve got a lot going on between the media and protestors. I’ve got angels in my house, for crying out loud.”
She squealed in shock. “They’re in your house?”
“Yes.”
“Angels?”
“Yes.”
“Oh my.”
Oh my indeed, I thought wearily.
“Maybe I should come up for a visit?” my mom suggested.
“Mother! No.” God forbid my mother come see what a disaster I’d made of everything. I’d never hear the end of it. “Please, we’re about to have dinner, so I need to get off the phone,” I lied.
“It’s a little late for dinner, isn’t it?” she reprimanded.
I moaned. “Mom, please stop trying to dictate my life when you’re several states away.”
“I’m sorry, sweetie. Just remember that you’re my son, and I worry about you all the time, no matter what.” She’d never let me forget that I was her son. She once threatened me with what she called “the raising you bill.”
“I know,” I cajoled. “I love you.”
“I love you too, son. You’d better call me.”
“Yes, Mom.” I ended the call before she could start lecturing me on another aspect of my life.
Relieved the conversation was over with, I fell asleep with Jenna curled against my body, both of us content and wildly in love. I thought nothing could ruin that night. Thought things were finally calming down and going my way.
I was wrong.
CHAPTER 8: GO OUT ON A LIMB
Lately I’d been having these wild and vivid dreams about the angels battling, causing me to be overly exhausted during the day. However, tonight I had been at peace when I’d gone to bed and slept like the dead. I should have expected everything to go to shit—should have prepared for it.
I’d only ever heard my smoke detectors go off during their yearly testing. I was thankful for my diligence, because the deafening wails of the detectors woke me—suddenly and startlingly. My heart thumped a menacing beat as I hurled the covers away from Jenna and me. She was bleary-eyed and confused, not understanding the sound that had awoken her were the smoke detector’s desperate cries, warning us.
“Get up!” I shouted, though Jenna had a hard time understanding me.
I pulled on a T-shirt, glad I wore my pajama bottoms that night. I ran to the door and cautiously placed my hand on the wood. It was hot, and I jerked back. Smoke spilled in from under the door, and I coughed at the onslaught. My heart lodged in my throat, thinking of Jules and Firen just down the hall. I’d made sure to put her in a room with no windows. I swallowed thickly—holy shit, I’d made a huge mistake. I tried not to panic. I had to hold it together for Jenna. I whipped back around and ran to Jenna, who had finally grasped what was going on. In her face, I could see the same thoughts I’d just had cross her mind.
“Jules!” she screamed in utter terror as she tossed my robe over her head and ran for the door.
I blocked her path, which was a lot harder than one would think. She fought against me, yelling and beating on me to move. It broke my heart, but I couldn’t let her go into the hallway. I couldn’t lose her. The alarms changed their tune, squealed, and abruptly stopped their wails, though I heard a faint echo from the alarms on the other side of the house. That wasn’t good.
“I have to get to Jules,” Jenna cried as I yanked her toward the bedroom window, though she dug her feet in the whole way. I grabbed my cell phone from the bedside table as I passed and
pushed it into Jenna’s hands.
“I know,” I said, voice rough. “Get out of here and call Gabby. I’ll get Jules.” She started to argue with me, but I silenced her with a quick kiss. “Trust me. I won’t let anything happen to her,” I swore. “I love you.”
“Love you too. Now go!” she demanded as she tore open the window. “Hurry!”
Grabbing a heavy coat, a shirt, and boots from the closet, I raced to the door. I slipped into the boots and pulled the coat on, zipping it up to cover my nose. I wrapped the shirt around my fist and reached for the door handle. Behind me, Jenna had kicked the screen from the window and was crawling out. She looked back at me, tears littering her freckled cheeks. I knew in that moment that she loved and trusted me more than anyone. She trusted that I would get to Jules—that I would save her. Then Jenna disappeared from view. Relieved that she was safe, I was able to fully focus on Jules.
I opened the door, and a blast of heat hit me. My first reaction was to slam the door shut, but all I could think about was tiny Jules. I hunkered down into the coat as I entered the hostile hallway. Barely able to see due to my squinting through the shroud of black smoke, I had to feel my way down the hall with my feet. Flames licked their way up the wall to my left, though the right side of the hallway appeared undamaged. In an attempt to get away from the intense fire, I hugged the right wall. With each step, my body protested against the heat. As soon as a bead of sweat escaped, it evaporated. It felt as if my insides were cooking with each painful breath. It didn’t matter, though. Only Jules mattered, and Jenna believed in me. I had to get to Jules, no matter what, my lungs be damned, I could only hope that Firen was doing all she could to keep my little girl safe.
What were probably only minutes felt like a lifetime, and I eventually had to close my eyes. The heat and smoke had become unbearable. I used my right hand to guide me forward, though I kept it covered in the T-shirt just in case. The house creaked, and something crashed in front of me. My hands automatically went up to protect my face. Blinking rapidly, trying to figure out what had happened, I saw that part of the ceiling had collapsed and blocked my path. I tried to step around the pile of debris, but my pants caught fire. I gritted my teeth and sucked in a breath of pure heat, like I’d engulfed a ball of fire. I immediately patted at the flames on my pants until they went out. I wanted to turn around, desperately needing fresh air. My lungs were horribly seared, my eyes begged for water that was entirely absent from the air, and my skin blistered under the coat.
Refusing to let this prevent me from getting to Jules, I tried to step over the rubble again, and again my pants caught fire. I’d like to think myself manly, but in that moment, I cried out in agony, sucking even more heat into my already scorched lungs. It was like I was cooking. My body shook, and I knew it was a sign of shock. Still, I wouldn’t let it stop me. With my clothes catching fire, I made it over the debris. I swatted at my clothes in different places, putting out various fires. Through squinted eyes, I saw the end of the hall where Jules’s bedroom was located. I cried out in relief, racing toward it.
I abruptly stopped when it came into focus, and my stomach dropped. The door was wide open. The inferno was closing in around me, and part of the ceiling barely missed me as I slid forward into Jules’s room. I slammed the door shut between the fire and me and twisted around. I couldn’t see anything in the dark.
“Jules? Firen?” I called out, coughing up a storm.
After several moments of feeling around for them, I came to the conclusion they weren’t there. Then it hit me: I was trapped in a windowless room, and my house was burning down. My body automatically went into survival mode as I dropped to the floor, desperately sucking in the less-toxic air. There was no way I’d be able to go back the way I’d come. Being completely in the dark, the first thing I did was search for the dresser. In every room, I made sure there was a flashlight in case of a power outage. In this room, there was one in the top drawer of the dresser. Each movement I made was agonizing as my burned skin rubbed against what remained of my clothing and the floor.
Finding the dresser, I felt around for the flashlight. For several terrifying seconds, I thought it was missing, but then my fingers came in contact with it. I could have rejoiced as I flipped it on. The first thing I did was confirm that I was the only one in the room—I even checked the closet. The air was thick with smoke, so the second thing I did was yank clothes from their hangers and shove them under the door, hoping to stop the flow of smoke. I tried to stay as low as I could, but every once in a while I’d have to raise up. I was honestly surprised I hadn’t passed out already due to lack of oxygen.
I pushed the dresser against the door—the weakest part of the wall—then I ripped the sheets and comforter from the bed and tossed them against the outside wall. Gagging and coughing, partially blind from smoke, I was finally able to yank the mattress off the box springs. Though I’d never been trained to deal with fires, I hoped wrapping myself in the blanket and sheets and using the mattress as a shield would protect me as much as possible against the raging inferno just on the other side of the door.
My lungs started to protest, and I coughed to the point of getting sick. I inventoried my wounds, a tortured gasp leaving me when I saw the damage. Some of my skin was raw and looked like boiled meat, while other places were blackened. I bit my lip as I checked my feet, which had me crying out. Even my lips were burned. My mind couldn’t stop from thinking about Jules, hoping she’d made it out okay. And then there was Jenna. If I didn’t make it, she would be devastated. She’d blame herself. But what was I supposed to do?
Adrenaline, probably the only thing that had kept me going, dissipated, and my body shook uncontrollably. I was in serious shit, I knew, as my body went into all-embracing shock. Then I was light-headed and knew at any minute I would pass out. My entire body throbbed, and the thought of being unconscious was welcoming. The last thing I remembered was the flashlight dropping from my hand and rolling away, lighting the comforter in crimson, the sound of something crashing faintly registering with my psyche.
<>
When I came to, I was splayed on the cold ground and, from behind my lids, lights flashed from every direction. It took me a few seconds to grasp my surroundings, which I wasn’t sure were actually real or not. I sucked in a breath, and my lungs weren’t pained from the simple action.
“This is my fault. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” said a heavenly voice, though it was distressed. “Please be okay. Please.”
“He’ll be fine,” another voice reassured. “I’m healing him. Look, the burns are almost gone.”
“Then why isn’t he waking?” that same heavenly voice asked, pleading. Desperate. I recognized that voice.
“Jenna?” I rasped, my eyes opening. Several faces stared down at me.
“Joseph?” Jenna said, hopeful. She came into my view, her face red and splotchy from crying, which she started up again. Her hand squeezed mine, and through the tears, she smiled, albeit a quivering one.
“Hey,” I breathed, still trying to reorient myself.
“How ya doing?” Gabby’s face came into view, and she grinned down at me. She’d stopped doing her healing thing, and the pain rushed in.
“I’m just peachy,” I quipped, throat scratchy. “Only hurts when I breathe or blink or exist, if I’m being honest.”
Gabby playfully frowned. “So, do you want me to finish healing you or not?”
I coughed. “No, I want to know if tweed is fashionable this year.”
Gabby laughed.
“Yes, Gabby, I want you to heal me.”
Jenna shook her head at our bantering but seemed relieved when Gabby started up again. A bright light came from her hands, and each second I felt a little bit better, a little less like crispy barbecue.
When she was finished, I asked, “What happened?”
“I happened. You know, I’m getting tired of saving your ass,” Gabby joked.
“Hah-hah,” I said, sitting up. I t
ried to absorb the scene before me, but it felt so unreal. I was across the street from my house. Several of the angels were talking with the police and firemen as they worked together to contain the fire. My house was completely engulfed in flames, and at this point, there was no saving it. Mostly, they were focusing on my neighbors’ homes, though Melvin’s house could burn for all I cared. That was when I remembered why I needed rescuing in the first place.
“Where’s Jules? Firen?” The words left me in a rush of anxiety.
“Jules is perfectly fine,” Firen said from behind me.
I rose to my feet and pivoted to face the Fallen Angel. “How’d you get her out of there so fast?” I asked.
“I went outside to make sure no one had gotten through the perimeter the FBI had set up,” Firen said. “As I came around the side of the house, I saw a vehicle creeping by. I thought it was odd and was about to investigate when a flaming bottle hurtled from inside the car. It hit the front door and burst into flames. Several more were flung from the vehicle.”
I cut her off. “Did you see who it was?” Whoever had done this to my house and put my family at risk would pay dearly. Moreover, how did that person get through security?
“Yes,” Firen answered.
“Did you recognize them from the crowds?” I prodded.
“It’s someone you know,” she said, unsure if she should tell me, which was good because I needed a moment to let that information sink in.
“Then what happened?” I asked.
Firen watched me carefully before continuing. “I ran around back and got Jules out of the house before the alarms started going off. I was about to go back in for you and Jenna, but then I saw Jenna come out of your window. When I realized you weren’t right behind her, I decided to go in after you, but Jenna was already on the phone with the Illuminator. Before I had a chance to move ten feet, the Illuminator had already gone in after you.”
“What can I say,” Gabby said, tone ironic, “I’d totally miss your stellar cooking skills if you died, especially your breakfast. So I had to save you.”
Keepers: A Timeless Novella Page 5
