Page 17 of Chasing After You
Sebastian answers immediately, his words hurried. “Finally, I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for the last twenty minutes.”
“I’m sorry, Bash. I know I was a dick to Mira today, but I’ll call and apologize,” I blurt out before he can say anything. The last thing I need is to have Thalia rip me a new one. She’s terrifying when she’s angry. Thankfully, it’s only been directed at me a handful of times.
“What?”
Oh hell.
I just dug my own grave. Maybe I can figure out how to hit my head with the shovel, too.
I choke on air, scrambling to backtrack, but Sebastian continues. “For fuck’s sake. Henry, if you hurt her, I’ll . . . just never mind, that’s not important right now. I need you to go to the house to check on Mira. Thalia and I are on our way to Charlotte now, but we’re still a way out.”
My stomach drops at the thought of something happening to her while I ignored Sebastian’s calls. “What happened?”
“We don’t know all the details yet, but there was a fire at the house.”
“Was she there?” I choke out, grabbing my keys while slipping into my shoes by the door.
“No.Thank god,” he says as I open the garage door, climbing into my car.
“I’m on my way now. I’ll stay with her,” I promise, pulling out of the driveway so fast I’m positive I left tire marks behind.Fuck, I should have answered my phone sooner.
Sebastian sighs. “Thanks, Henry. I appreciate it, but don’t think we aren’t going to fucking talk later about you being an ass to Mira.”
“I’ll text if there’s any updates before you get there.”
I hang up, and thankfully the Walker’s house is less than ten minutes away since it’s close to the stadium like mine.
I’m able to get to the house in record time, but I see and smell the smoke before I get to their street. I drive past the line of news vehicles on the other side of the street, taking advantage of filming this horrible moment. Parking behind Mira’s Audi, I get out of the car, leaving the door to my Corvette open as I search for her among all the first responders.
I know Sebastian said she wasn’t in the house, but I need her to be okay. I need to see for myself that Mirabelle isn’t hurt. My chest feels tight, and I hate that I was caught up in my own shit instead of being here for her sooner.
I scan quickly over faces, finally spotting her next to a fire truck, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders as she stares blankly at their house.
“Mirabelle!” I call out, unsure if she can hear me over all the commotion, but her head snaps immediately toward my direction. Mirabelle stands shakily, the blanket falling from her shoulders as she bolts straight toward me. She slams into my chest, and I fold my arms around her immediately, holding Mira tightly as some of the tension escapes my body because she’s okay.
The smell of ash is thick in the air, hanging like a cloud.
Her face is tucked into my chest as she clutches my shirt like a lifeline. She’s trembling, and I don’t know how to make this better, but I need to try. “Hey, you’re okay. The house can be replaced, but you can’t be.”
She doesn’t say anything, simply melting into my body. She’s clinging tightly to me, and despite this absolutely being the wrong moment, I don’t think I’ve ever held her this way. We’ve always been friends, but she’s five years younger than me. Mirabelle’s always acted mature for her age, but at some point, I started distancing myself because I never wanted to cross any boundaries that couldn’t be taken back. It’s hard not to notice she molds perfectly against me.
“Tu vas bien,”9 I whisper, because I don’t know what else to say. “You’re okay.”
We stand there for a long time, while I run my hand up and down her back, repeating my words in both French and English. Mirabelle’s not crying, but she won’t stop shaking.
“Mirabelle,” I say gently, and she untangles herself from me but that’s the last thing I want. I didn’t say her name so she’d back away.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have thrown myself at you,” she says, running her hands over her face, exhaling a short breath.Is she seriously apologizing right now?“I just—I was happy to see a familiar face. Well, not happy necessarily. Ah, fuck, you know what I mean,” Mirabelle mumbles, and guilt hits me at full force because if I had answered Sebastian’s first call, I would have been here sooner.
“Don’t worry about it. Are you okay?” I resist the urge to ask what happened because I’m sure she’ll tell me when she’s ready. She seems overwhelmed. I’m an idiot. Of course, she’s overwhelmed. Her house was on fire.
“I promise, I didn’t fucking set my house on fire accidentally,” she tries to joke, but it falls flat. Mirabelle closes her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. “The police think they found a broken window around the back. The alarms didn’t go off because I think I forgot to set it this morning when I left in a rush. I guess they think someone broke in and could have started the fire, but we won’t know until the official report is back. Until then, the house and everything in it is part of a crime scene.”
“Shit.” I wish I could stuff the words back into my mouth after I say them because she opens her big brown eyes, staring at me. Then, to my relief, she relaxes into a smile.
“Yeah.Shitis kind of all you can say to that.” Then her smile fades. “You know, I keep running all theWhat ifs?through my mind. I didn’t think those twits from work did me a favor by inviting me for drinks tonight, but what if I were home when . . .” Mirabelle trails off, stepping back to wrap her arms around herself. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to get all depressing. I’m fine, I promise. You don’t need to worry.”
“You don’t need to apologize, and you certainly don’t need to pretend to be fine.” The thought of Mirabelle being home when this happened nearly brings me to my knees. I look at Mirabelle, seeing this determined, kind, and stubborn person who is always willing to help others. Her family are some of the best people I’ve met so I’m not sure why anyone would want to light their house on fire.
