Then Charleigh’s sprinting down the hallway. She picks up my phone from the floor and runs back toward me.
“Asher!” she yells, her eyes darting over my shoulder. I lookback down at Cyrus beneath me but am knocked off balance. His fist connects with my jaw so hard, I fall back. My spine slams into the floor, and flames rage beside my head. I turn and look, scrambling to back away. The heat is intense, almost too much for me to bear. Memories of my mother flash through my mind, and panic takes over.
I turn my head to look back up at Cyrus. Smoke billows between us, but his venomous eyes are unmistakable.
He wraps his hand around my neck and lowers himself, bringing his face as close to mine as he can. My throat burns, and my vision blurs, black dots appearing at the sides. All I see is Cyrus’s beady eyes above me.
“This is the last time you’ll take money from me, fucker.” He hisses. “This is the last time an Egan takes everything from me.”
He keeps one hand wrapped around my neck, squeezing. He uses the other to keep it pinned on my windpipe, straightening his arms. Sitting up, his face turns beat red, and the veins pop in his round neck. He’s using as much pressure and strength as he can to kill me.
I lift my arms and bat at his. I’m growing weaker, and my eyes start to grow heavy. I don’t have the strength to keep them open. I try to fight back, but all I see is Charleigh sitting under the tree in her parent’s backyard. Round patches of wet dirt stained into the knees of her jeans. Her long, brown hair curtaining her beautiful face. Me hastily drawing her round eyes in my sketchbook, just in case I never had the gift of seeing them again.
My hands start to fall away from Cyrus’s arms, and my mind drifts. It floats away, and the smoke and heat overwhelm me.
I’ve almost completely surrendered when Charleigh growls above me. My eyes snap open with as much energy as I cansummon, watching the end of a large flowerpot smash against the side of Cyrus’s head.
The ceramic cracks against his skull, and his usually beady eyes spread wide. I squint, a chunk of the pot and clumps of dirt falling all over me.
Cyrus’s hands let up, and he topples to the side. I’m still straining to breathe. I inhale sharply, gasping for air. I roll to my side, coughing. My jaw is wide open, but despite his hands being off me, there’s still no relief. I look up at the flames, inches from my face, and I scramble to sit up and back away.
“Asher.” Charleigh kneels beside me. She grips onto my arm, urging me to stand. “We need to get out of here.”
I quickly wrap my hand around hers and stand, ready to head for the door, but I stop when I see a barrier of flames blocking the front door.
“Shit,” I blow out.
“Come on,” Charleigh says, pulling me back down the hall. “There’s a ladder outside my bedroom window.”
I nod and lead her down the hall. We stick close to the wall, avoiding the flames crawling across the floor, setting her carpet on fire.
When we make it to her bedroom, I slide the window open and help Charleigh climb out first. She grabs onto the thin, metal ladder and starts her descent. I’m quick to follow.
I don’t inhale a clean breath until my bare feet land on solid ground. With my hands on my knees, I try to clean out the smoke from my chest, worried I’ve inhaled too much. Charleigh’s hand is on my back, but my own worries subside, focusing on her.
Wrapping my arms around her, I pull her to me. She snuggles into me, resting her face on my chest. I press my cheek to the top of her head and breathe an uncomfortable sigh of relief.
I kiss the top of her head, then wrap my hands around her face, pulling her to look up at me. “Are you okay?”
Tears streak her cheeks, and worry is etched in her round eyes. She nods and sniffs, her eyes falling to my neck. “Are you?”
I swallow thickly, looking up at her burning apartment. Each window glows a bright red and orange, and I think of Cyrus inside, lying there unconscious, surrounded by fire.
Flashes of blue and red lights surround us, covering the brick building of Charleigh’s apartment. I turn and look around at all the fire trucks and police cars. A crowd of onlookers has gathered around us and on the other side of the street.
I look back down at Charleigh, running my thumbs under her eyes, wiping up her tears. I inhale an unsteady breath and notice that this time it’s a little easier to take in. I look into her eyes, thankful for the gift of seeing them again.
“Yeah, I’m okay.” I press my lips to her forehead and breathe her in. “You saved me, Little Flower. You saved me.”
THIRTY
CHARLEIGH
One Week Later
I’m staring through the front window of my sunlit flower shop with a smile on my face. It’s my first day back to work since the fire at my apartment, and it feels good to be back. Although I’m still struggling to keep up with my load of clients and the regular day to day operations of running my flower shop, this place feels like home. It’s small, but it’s mine.
“Did you see this one?”