Alexa screamed and lurched toward him, thinking of nothing but needing to help him. She grabbed the flaming Sheetrock and lumber and pushed it off of him, the fire lashing at her skin and making her cry out.
“I’m okay,” he said, crawling through the debris. Together they beat at his cut and shirt and jeans where they’d caught fire. “I’m okay.” But nothing about his voice sounded okay.
“Mav’rick,” she moaned, tears from the smoke streaming down her face. And from her realization. “We . . . have to go . . .”
He pushed onto hands and knees. Then stared down the hall. “Fuck, Al, look.” He pointed.
And, oh, God, it was her mother, illuminated by the spreading flames. She was sprawled on the floor in front of her bedroom door.
“Stay back,” he said. “I’ll get her.” Maverick rose but stumbled, clearly hurting. He used the wall for support until he finally got to her mom. As she watched, Maverick grabbed her mother by the legs and pulled, stumbling a little as he moved. It felt like forever until he returned to where Alexa waited.
Feeling a little light-headed, Alexa retreated toward the door, almost immediately tripping over something on the floor. She felt around with her hands, finding junk everywhere. She had to try to clear a wider path for her mom. Her chest felt like it could explode from the clenching tightness, but none of that mattered. She grabbed what turned out to be a broken metal table lamp and used the round base of it to shove and push at the piles.
“That’s good, baby. Go out. Go on now.” Maverick stumbled again.
“I’ll help,” she said, not sure if he could hear her. She came around and grabbed her mother’s arms. Made it a few steps. But dizziness washed over her. She went down to her knees. Damn asthma. “Take her,” she yelled as loud as she could. “And come back for me.”
“Fuck, Alexa! Follow me, baby. Keep moving.” It was like he found a new source of energy, because he was suddenly upright again and pulling her mother hard. “Come on, Alexa!”
She tried. Managed to get one foot underneath herself again. But her breaths were shallowing out and her chest hurt so bad.
“Goddamnit. I’ll be right back, baby.” He disappeared into the foyer with her mother. Relief flooded through Alexa, because they were getting out. Oh, God, they should be outside by now. The thought made her try to crawl again.
Just keep moving, Al. Mav will be right back to help. She got her other foot underneath her. There.
A voice. There he was, standing in the doorway to the foyer. She held out her hand and looked up, blinking. Her eyes stung like they were filled with crushed glass.
“Imagine my delight at seeing you two arrive. And here I’d thought I was only going to get the satisfaction of hurting your mother.”
Grant?
Rage and hatred surged through her, jolting her to action. She got her feet under her, then finally stood up. “You are . . . a . . . sick . . . bastard,” she managed.
“I’ve actually heard that before,” he said with a shrug. “I didn’t much like it back then, either.”
She glared at him, the firelight throwing demonic shadows across his face. “Why are you doing this?” She forced herself upright, hoping he couldn’t tell how unsteady she was. The heat was nearly unbearable.
He held up the neck of a broken bottle, then tossed it aside. Which made her wonder where Maverick was . . . and why he wasn’t coming back. Dread snaked ice through her veins. “Because I can. Because I have to,” Grant said, an odd flatness in his voice. She shook her head, trying to make sense of the man before her. But failing.
And the fact that Maverick still hadn’t come back? Meant Grant had hurt him. She had to face that fact, didn’t she? Fury unlike anything she’d ever felt before blasted through her until it became her blood, her cells, her very DNA. She was going to kill him. She was going to revel in it. Even if she died herself.
Oh, God, Maverick! Please, be okay!
Turning, she picked up the lamp again.
He shook his head. “You can barely breathe, let alone lift that thing, Alexa. Face it, I’ve won. I told you to just give in and do things my way. Now, this is my way.”
Maybe he had won. Probably. But she moved closer, closer, struggling for enough air to think. But what she was doing didn’t require thought. Only instinct. To avenge. To survive.
Lights suddenly flashed outside, and Grant glanced to his side. Which was when Alexa swung the heavy metal lamp with all her might.
The lamp crashed into his right kneecap, and the crunch was a sickening thing. He let out a howl and fell forward, his knee at an unnatural angle. He tried and failed to catch himself, then tripped over the mess covering the floor and went down hard. He moaned and shifted, and she couldn’t tell if he was conscious or not. Either way, he was down and her path was clear.