Page 1 of Conflagration
“GET THE FUCK OUT OF THE CAR!” I yell frantically, trying to pull the door handle, but failing miserably. As my fist pounds against the window, I can feel my heart beating wildly—thump, thump, thump—and hear the fire roaring in my ears.
Her beautiful eyes are wide with terror as she tugs on her seatbelt, only to confirm that it won’t budge one single fucking centimeter. Pounding on the window, I’m screaming at her, begging her, pleading beyond reproach, but it’s as if she doesn’t hear me. She keeps shaking her head, the expression on her face one of defeat. Like she’s accepted her fate—that the flames will destroy her—and somehow, she’s at peace with it. And there's not a fucking thing I can do to save her.
Turning to look at the wreckage around us, I know I’m racing against time and it won’t be long before the semi cab’s engine blows high into the sky. My brain is screaming at me to run away, to find safety, but then I look back into the car. Her hand presses against the glass, her fingers spreading, and she looks at me, tears filling her eyes. I press my hand to the window, covering hers, and in that instant, the world around us stops. Our eyes lock, knowing we may be the last thing each other sees, and for a split second, there’s recognition in her eyes. There’s a familiarity here, as if I’ve met her before, but I can’t place her. I’m transfixed on her for a moment, trying to figure out how I know her.
I no longer feel the heat on my back, the flames on my face. All I see is her. All I feel is her. She’s someone important—I can feel it deep down in my soul, but I’m not sure why. Without question, something inside me shifts, and I start pounding my fist against the glass, knowing I need to get her out of there.
She bangs on the window, our fists both working against the glass. Yet, instead of trying to break it, she’s telling me to get out, to move away. Valuing her life over mine, which really isn’t saying much.
A small sense of victory washes over me when a crack finally appears in the glass. Motioning for her to move away, I watch and wait as she leans into the passenger’s seat, out of harm’s reach as I start hitting the crack. The sound of shattering glass brings on sweet relief as I finally break through the fucking window, my fingers fumbling as I dive into the car, barely registering the feel of glass stabbing my torso as I lean in.
I try to unbuckle her seatbelt, but it’s no use. The fucking thing won’t dislodge, and I start to panic the moment I hear her sobbing.
“Let me go. It’s no use. Get out of here before you’re burned to ashes, too,” she sobs, her voice wavering.
She refuses to look at me, and in that moment, I don’t care about myself. I’d give my life for this beautiful, familiar stranger. It’s a surprising thought because I’ve always been a selfish asshole, but seeing her there, vulnerable and ready to give up for me, I’m aware that, for once in my life, I can put someone else first. And I goddamn fucking will.
Grabbing the multi-tool from my belt, I thank the Lord my dad always made me carry one, even if it is more for cracking beer than tool use. I flip the knife out and make quick work of cutting through the material. Once she’s released, she falls against my chest, and I sigh in deep relief. A loud pop interrupts the moment, and she wraps her arms around my neck. With as much care as possible, I pull her through the broken window, wincing as every single inch of shattered glass pierces my skin.
“Oh my God. You saved me,” she murmurs, and I watch as blood trickles down her forehead.
“I’m no savior, baby. I usually destroy everything around me,” I admit, knowing she probably won’t remember this interaction.
“That’s not true. You could’ve left me to die, and you didn’t. You came back for me. No one ever comes back for me,” she whispers, her voice trailing off as her head starts to lull off to the side. The blood from her head wound continues to trail down her face, and I mentally panic as she slowly falls into unconsciousness.
Looking up, I’m straining to hear the distant sirens, begging beyond hope that help arrives in time. I’m standing in the middle of the road with a beautiful woman in my arms, and for once, I have no idea what to do.
Before I can catch my bearings, I hear a high-pitched hiss, and moments later, my vision explodes in flashes of yellow, orange, red, and blue. Somehow, I hold on to her tight even as I’m thrown forward, my arms tightening around her as we fall to the ground. Settling in on the side of the road, I roll to my side with her still in my arms. Pain flows through me, but she’s the one I’m concerned about. She’s the one I want to be safe. Me? I could die right now and no one could care. But her? I’d never fucking forgive myself if I don’t keep her safe.
I feel the heat at my back, and I hold her tighter, my body cocooning hers to keep the flames at bay. Voices shout in the distance, but my vision turns blurry, and no matter how hard I try to fight it, everything fades to black.
Earlier That Day
“BREATHE, ARI,” my younger sister, Alyssa, says soothingly as she rubs my back.
Leaning forward, I inhale deeply and hold my breath, allowing the air to fill my lungs. A sense of calming washes over me and I close my eyes.
“That’s it. You’re fine.”
Opening my eyes to look up at her, I exhale slowly then steady myself. As I sit up straight, I finally make my own decision—probably for the first time in my life. “I can’t do this. No. I won’t do this,” I tell her emphatically, relief flooding through me as realization takes over. Things never should’ve even gotten this far, and I can’t believe how close I came to making the biggest mistake of my life.
What mistake is that, you ask? Marrying Benjamin Cunningham the Fourth. Tomorrow is my wedding day. Or, well, it’s supposed to be. Tomorrow. I’m supposed to plaster on a fake smile and marry Benjamin—God forbid you call him Ben—the son of my father’s business partner and my boyfriend of two years. The man I’m supposed to love. Who I thought I did love. So why don’t I feel more distraught over my decision? Why do I feel relief that I’ve decided not to pledge my undying love for this man?
Probably because I don’t have undying love for him.
The thought crosses my mind, and I know it’s true. My feet have been growing increasingly colder the closer the day has come and now I know why. Benjamin doesn’t love me and he confirmed that fact just minutes ago when I overheard him telling his father that I’m nothing more than a means to an end—his perfect little trophy wife. And once he secures that ring on my dainty little finger, he’s going to start working on Dad to become his successor. The Covingtons and the Cunninghams. The perfect merger.
I should’ve cried. I should’ve felt heartbroken. And maybe I will once the adrenaline wears off. But in that split second, what I felt was instant relief. Because now I understand what our relationship has been—a business transaction. Unfortunately for Benjamin, this is one merger that isn’t going to happen, and the look on his face when I told him so was priceless. Shock, humiliation, and even anger flashed across his features before he steadied himself and dismissed me, calling me a silly woman who simply hadn’t heard him right. With a kiss on the cheek, he told me that he had a few things to do before the rehearsal and then left like nothing was wrong. Fortunately, Alyssa was right there, and she guided me back to her room, calling him all sorts of colorful terms that would’ve had Great-Grandma Covington rolling over in her grave.
With renewed resolve, I straighten my shoulders and stand up. Smoothing down my dress, I grab my purse, holster it over my shoulder, and stroll towards the door. Alyssa scurries after me but she doesn’t say a word as we ride in the elevator of the hotel where the rehearsal dinner is being held. I don’t stop until I get to my car. Glancing into the back seat, I see my luggage and am thankful I’ve already packed for my honeymoon. This will make my getaway that much easier.
“Where will you go?” Alyssa asks.
Sighing heavily, I look up at her. I haven’t really thought that far in advance. “Anywhere. Somewhere far away from Atlanta where our parents—and probably his—can’t try and talk me into marrying him. I just need to get away. To regroup. I know I shouldn’t ask this of you, but can you cover for me? You know how William and Victoria have been waiting for this day to come, and now, it’s just going to be one more disappointment for them.”
Now that I think about it, Benjamin’s probably not the only one who viewed our impending marriage as something less than love and more about the business. My father has always lamented not having a male heir to take control of the company. Because, apparently, if you have a vagina and two breasts, you’re incapable of doing so. Now, I’m wondering if he had ulterior motives when he set Benjamin and me up on a blind date two years ago. If I can’t be his successor, then why not his reputable son-in-law?
The more I think about it, the more it makes sense. William was all too willing to embrace Benjamin, and he spared no wedding expense. Victoria, my illustrious mother, agreed and has done everything she could to talk me into quitting my job and becoming a housewife. In her words, my job is to keep the house clean, the children fed, and my husband happy. In reality, what she meant was: hire a maid, hire a cook, and turn a blind eye while my husband bangs his secretary.
