Chapter Eighteen
Jackson
I was in a deep sleep when my phone jolted me awake. The shrill ring cut through the silence, and I groggily fumbled for it, wondering who could be calling at such an ungodly hour.
My eyes focused on the screen, and Savannah’s name flashed brightly. Adrenaline surged as I pressedanswer.
“Help—fire—help!” Her voice was frantic, broken by coughs. The words took a heartbeat to register, but when they did, my body snapped into action.
It wasn’t the first time I’d been pulled from sleep like this—years of firehouse shifts had trained me for emergencies—but nothing could dull the gut-wrenching panic of hearing her voice like that.
Images of Savannah, terrified and trapped, flooded my mind. Flames consuming her home, smoke stealing her breath. I shook my head, forcing the fear aside. She needed me—now.
Within seconds, I was on my feet. My heart thundered as I yanked open my closet door and grabbed the firefighting gear I bought.
It was second nature—boots, jacket, mask—and within minutes, I was fully geared up, axe strapped to my side.
When I flung open my front door, the sight slammed into me like a freight train. Flames consumed Savannah’s house, licking hungrily at the siding and racing upward in an all-too-familiar, deliberate pattern.
My gut churned. If Alana had been home… No. She wasn’t. She was safe with my parents. But Savannah—
The fire trucks weren’t here yet, though their sirens wailed in the distance. Minutes could mean everything. I couldn’t wait.
The heat hit me like a wall as I sprinted toward the house. Flames painted the predawn sky, their light illuminating the panic in my chest.
I pulled my mask down, the familiar rasp of filtered air grounding me. The front door was ajar, black smoke billowing out in thick, suffocating waves.
I didn’t hesitate. Using my axe, I widened the door’s opening and pushed through the haze. The crackling roar of the fire was deafening, a living monster determined to consume everything in its path.
A thunderous crack echoed above, and I instinctively glanced up. A blazing beam crashed onto the staircase, cutting off access to the upper floor. Through the shifting smoke, I caught sight of her.
Savannah.
She was halfway down the stairs, one hand outstretched toward something unseen, the other clutching the railing as if it were the only thing keeping her tethered to this world. Her head tilted to the side, unmoving.
“Savannah!” I shouted, my voice muffled by the mask. She didn’t stir.
I didn’t have time to think, only act. Reaching into my jacket pocket, I pulled out a flame-retardant blanket. Flames danced on either side of the fallen beam, but I threw the blanket over it, smothering enough of the fire to make a path.
Every step up the staircase was a battle. The heat pressed against me, smoke clawed at the edges of my mask, and the air felt thick and heavy. My boots felt like they might melt into the steps. But nothing could stop me—not when she was right there.
“Savvy,” I murmured, gripping her shoulders. Her body was limp, her head lolling slightly. My chest tightened.
“I’ve got you,” I whispered, though I knew she couldn’t hear me. Scooping her into my arms, I marveled at how fragile she felt.
Navigating back down was harder. The heat was oppressive, and the smoke clawed at my lungs, even through the mask. But I didn’t stop until I burst through the front door and into the fresh air.
I laid her gently on the grass, pulling off my mask and helmet. “Savannah,” I said, taking her hand in mine. “Come on, breathe. Just breathe.”
Her chest rose and fell in shallow but steady breaths. Relief coursed through me as I checked her pulse—it was weak, but there. She was alive.
The fire trucks arrived just as I stepped away from the house. Flames had consumed half of the structure, and firefighters scrambled to hose it down. The sight was both a comfort and a reminder of how close I’d cut it.
The siren of the ambulance screamed as it came to the end of the cul-de-sac. EMTs rushed over with a stretcher. I could hear people directing them to where I was with Savannah.
I wanted her conscious and alert before they took her. I wanted to know she was going to be okay.
“Savvy, Savvy, wake up. Please wake up.”
