Page 105 of Not For Keeps
“I’ve got you,” I whisper. “You’re okay, baby. I’ve got you.”
She clutches my neck like a lifeline. “Mami…she can’t get up. She’s hurt.”
I swallow hard and set Maya down just outside the door. “Stay right here. Low to the ground. Use your shirt. Cover your mouth, okay? Don’t move unless I say.”
She nods and does it without hesitation. Because she’s brave. Because she’s her mother’s daughter.
I turn back into the flames. And there sheis. Analyse. Slumped against the supply shelf, one arm limply curled over her stomach, her body folded like she’s trying to shield herself. Her head tilts to the side, eyes barely open. Ash clings to her lashes. Her jeans are soaked with blood, her leg bent at a sickening angle that makes my stomach lurch.
“Analyse.” Her name slips from my mouth like a vow. I fall to my knees beside her. “I’m here. I’ve got you, mi amor.”
She blinks. “Mateo?”
Her voice is barely a whisper. I lean in, forehead to hers. “Yeah. I’m here, chula. I’m gonna get you out.”
She tries to say something more, but coughs instead—deep, rattling. Her whole body trembles.
“I know it hurts,” I say, sliding an arm under her knees, the other around her back. “But we’ve got to go. Just hold on”
The room growls louder. I lift. She screams.
I squeeze my eyes shut. “I’m sorry. I know. I’m so sorry, baby.”
The pain is etched across her face, raw and gasping. But her arms cling to me, her face burrowing into my neck. I carry her to the door, each step a war. Maya is right there, eyes wide and shining.
“Grab my coat,” I tell her. “We’re getting out of here.”
She nods and grips the edge of my turnout gear with one soot-streaked hand. We step back into the hallway. Hell waits for us.
The fire has found its roar—full throated and hungry. Ceiling tiles collapse like bombs. The air blisters. Every breath is a fight. My boots splash through puddles that evaporate beneath us.
“Move!” I shout. “Stay with me!”
Maya clings tighter. Analyse whimpers against my chest, her breaths shallow, her skin too hot. I push forward through the smoke, flame, and falling ash. Then—a thunderouscrack.
Behind us, the ceiling gives. The hallway caves in. Room 24 disappears in a wall of fire. I don’t look back. I run.
The west exit is ahead, blurry though the smoke. But it’s there. It’s life. I barrel toward it, muscles burning, lungs screaming, everything inside me held together by a thread made of their names.
We break through. Sunlight crashes into my face. I drop to my knees, clutching Analyse like the last thing I’ll ever hold. Maya falls beside me, sobbing. Everything explodes.
Seb’s voice. Mari. Anna. Captain Nathan shouting orders.
“Maya!” Seb lifts her into his arms. “Oh my God, baby.”
But I can’t look away from her. “She needs a medic!” I scream. “Now!”
Boots pound across the pavement. Radios crackle. Someone yells for a stretcher.
I brush the soot from her face with shaking hands. “You’re okay,” I whisper, my voice broken. “You’re okay, Lyse. I’ve got you. You’re safe. I love you. I love you. I love you.”
Her lashes flutter. She blinks up at me, barely awake. Barely there. But she’s alive. I can’t believe it. She’s alive.
A sob punches out of my chest. I saved her. I saved them.
Chapter Thirty-Five
MATEO
