Page 11 of Let it Ignite
Dread twists in my stomach as he ends the call, slowly pulling out of me, leaving me achingly empty.
"Is it a fire?" I ask anxiously, straightening and turning to face him, suddenly very aware of my vulnerability.
His expression softens as he cups my face gently, thumb stroking my flushed cheek. "Yeah, I’m sorry, but I have to go. Chief needs all on hands on deck. Even though it was my night off. You eat and warm my bed I’ll be back later."
Fear tightens my throat. "Will you be okay?" I whisper urgently, gripping his forearm.
"I'll be fine," he promises, brushing a quick, fierce kiss against my lips. "Don't worry about me."
But as he strides out the door, adrenaline and duty etched into every line of his body, worry is all I can feel.
An hour later, my anxiety hasn't eased. I attempt to busy myself, trying to eat, but every bite tastes like ash. Rusty can clearly sense my anxiety, and makes himself scarce under the bed. I move to the sink, thinking that doing the dishes will help. My hands shake as I reach for a glass in the soapy water. My mind is so tangled with thoughts of him—his smile, his hands, his laugh—that the glass slips from my grasp, shattering loudly against the tiles.
The sharp sound jolts through me, and as I pick up all the broken pieces glittering on the floor, realization hits me like a punch to the chest.
I've fallen for him. Hard.
Deeply. Dangerously. Yet all I can think about is the night my mother died, ripped away from me without warning. I can't survive another loss like that. My chest aches, panic clawing through me, stealing my breath.
I can't do this. Not again. Not every single time he gets called on an emergency.
My throat closes tightly, choking back a sob. I can't face another loss like that. I won't survive it. The fear clamps around my heart, mercilessly tight.
Fueled by desperation and dread, I grab a bag, stuffing it with essentials. My hands tremble violently as I scribble a shaky note, tears streaming down my face, blurring the ink. Each step away from him feels like ripping open fresh wounds, but I keep going, stumbling blindly into the cold, indifferent night. I check my bank balance I should have enough for a taxi and cheap motel. I’ll figure out the rest when I get there.
I find a cheap motel on the edge of town.
The motel room is dingy, the bed stiff beneath me as I curl onto the faded sheets. I clutch the thin pillow to my chest, my body wracked by silent sobs. But beneath the pain, a fierce determination builds. I remind myself of the dream I've held onto through every heartbreak, every struggle—I'm meant for greatness. I can’t let myself lose focus now, not even for him. My dreams can't wait.
Yet, even as I cling desperately to my resolve, the emptiness of being without him gnaws at me, relentless and cruel. I close my eyes, tears seeping into the pillow, and whisper to the darkness:
“I have to do this. For me. For us.”
Chapter 5
Byron
Smoke clings to my gear, muscles aching as I step through the front door. Exhaustion weighs me down, but the thought of seeing Cassie keeps my feet moving.
The silence hits me first. It’s thick, heavy, and instantly wrong.
“Cassie?” I call out, my voice echoing back at me. I shrug off my jacket, letting it drop onto the chair, my pulse spiking. She should be here. She’s always here. Where the hell is she?
I move quickly to the kitchen, my boots crunching on something. I glance down. Glass shards scattered across the floor, glittering like broken promises. My chest tightens, dread wrapping around my ribcage at the sight of dishes untouched in the sink. She never leaves dishes in the sink.
“Cassie?” My voice sharpens, a guttural edge creeping in. Still nothing. I swallow, my eyes sweeping over the mess, catching on a crumpled note lying on the counter. My heart lurches as I snatch it up, the paper smudged with faint tear stains.
Byron
I’m sorry. I have to leave. I need to do this. Please don’t look for me.
Cassie
Anger surges through me, hot and uncontrollable. I crumple the note in my fist, teeth grinding. "Dammit, Cassie!" The words echo off the empty walls, my shout splitting the suffocating silence. She left me. She fucking left me. She has no idea what she’s done, what she’s risking. Doesn’t she know she’s mine?
But beneath the rage, fear claws at me, cold and merciless. She’s out there, alone, vulnerable, with hardly any money and I can’t protect her if I don’t find her.
I rake a hand through my hair, pacing the small living room, my mind racing. Where would she go? She has no one. No family. No close friends. She wouldn’t risk going too far, not with the audition still looming in the city.
