Page 26 of Raging Inferno

Amber says something that I don’t make out and I take a retreating step backward. Shaking my head in disbelief, I give the photo one last glance before hurrying out the door. I slam it closed and run my fingers through my short hair.

Her face.

From that first day in her office, I knew I had seen her before.

Making my way to my car, I rake my brain trying to place when and where I saw her. I play back every encounter I had with Chris and then it hits me. The last time I saw him was the day they opened the 9/11 museum. He called me a few days before and asked if we could check it out together. That’s the day he told me he met someone and was going to ask her to marry him. Come to think of it, he had met me after picking up the ring from the jewelry district down on Canal Street.

Forcing myself into my truck, I grip the steering wheel as the memories come flooding back to me. Proud of his woman, he pulled out his wallet and showed me the photograph he kept of her. I remember thinking she was beautiful. I remember staring at her face, at those eyes that seemed to jump off the paper they were printed on. They shined almost as brightly as her smile did. I told him he was a lucky bastard, and he thanked me. Not for the compliment but, again, he thanked me for saving his life—for giving him the opportunity to find her.

To love her.

Piecing together what I know, I start the engine and violently peel away from the curb. He looked so sincere then. He even asked me if I would attend the wedding. We joked that I should be his best man and then he made me promise to have dinner with him and his soon to be fiancé.

He called her Liss.

Jesus Christ, he called her Liss—short for Melissa.

I never got an invitation to dinner never mind a wedding. We lost touch after that and I’m mainly to blame. For as long as we knew one another it was always Chris who reached out to me. I never made the effort.

Suddenly anger coils in my veins and I can’t tell if I’m madder at myself or him. Myself, for not trying hard enough. If I had maybe then I would know what happened between the two of them. If I had then I wouldn’t have just spent the night enjoying the company of a woman whose heart belongs to another man.

Him, because he’s responsible for dimming the light in those beautiful eyes. He’s the reason her smile is gone. The reason she’s so unsure of herself. He’s why she’s so fucking sad.

“You son of a bitch,” I growl, pounding my fist against the steering wheel. “What the fuck did you do to her?”

Pulling my car onto the shoulder, I retrieve my phone from my pocket and flip through the contacts until I come to Chris 9/11. Having no idea what I’ll say if he answers, I hit send and wait for it to ring.

The number you are trying to reach is no longer in service. If you feel you’ve reached this message in error, please hang up and try your call again.

Disconnecting the call, I toss the phone onto the passenger seat and lean my head against the leather. It dawns on me then that Melissa has no idea I know Chris. Surely, she would’ve mentioned it. She would’ve used it as an excuse not to have dinner with me. That knowledge settles within me. It torments me and fucks with my conscience.

The right move would be to let her go.

I might not know what transpired between her and Chris but I know enough to know she’s still his. Melissa may have agreed to go out with me and yeah, she kissed me but that doesn’t mean anything. Physically she might not be Chris’ anymore but her heart and soul still belong to him.

I’ve lived enough life to know when to fold.

New beginnings don’t stand a chance with the past looming over it and Melissa and I don’t have a shot in hell—not with a ghost standing between us.

It’s got to be over.

We need to be over.

Done.

Finished.

But, that face.

I won’t forget it.

It will haunt me.

She will haunt me.

Tonight will haunt me.

Reaching for my phone, I delete Chris’ number and pull up my text messages. Finding Melissa’s name, I click on it and I secure my place in hell.

Me: I hope you feel better. Let’s try again.

Lucky for me, I’m no stranger to flames.

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