Page 48 of Hiss and Make Up
“We’re gonna have a talk about that animal later,” Marc said through heavy breaths.
He lifted her off the ground and she wrapped her legs around him. Their bodies moved in perfect harmony even with the rush of attraction overtaking them both. He carried her to a stainless steel work table on the other side of the shop and sat her on top of it.
Off went her shirt.
Kissing his way from her belly to her mouth, he lingered in spots that shot bolts of electricity through her body until she was panting. He eased her down onto the table, and the cold, metal surface against her back made her clench upward until she adjusted to the sensation. Marc waited for her to relax before climbing on top of her. She turned her head toward the open doorway, as if to suck in fresh air for the rest of this ride.
But something else took her breath away.
She pointed out at the open door, past the chain-link fence and open field, where Denise's house sat beneath a thick, dark trail of smoke. Flames licked at the sky from several windows. "Fire!"
Marc followed her line of sight and his whole body tensed above her. They both stared out the opening, frozen at the sight, neither able to move to action.
"Denise and the kids aren't there, right? They didn't come back, right?" She was afraid of his answer but too afraid not to ask.
Marc eased off of her and offered a hand to help her up. Then he grabbed his shirt and ran for the exit.
"Call 911.” He stopped for only a second to point at her and order, "Stay here," before sprinting toward the blaze.
11
By the time Sierra called for help, calmed the dog, and ran to Denise’s property, Marc was nowhere in sight. Her heart beat fiercely against her chest. Denise’s van wasn’t in the driveway, so they were still at ArtWalk. But Marc wouldn’t hang back and take that chance.
She paced until she heard sirens, then met the fire truck as it parked along the street. She told the first guy whose boots hit the ground that Marc was inside the house.
Sierra chewed her fingernails and the skin around them, pacing and cutting ruts in the yard. Her eyes remained glued to the house while the firemen ran inside and dragged a hose across the property. She’d never felt so useless in her life.
She shouldn’t have let Marc go to the house. She should have made him wait with her. But there'd been no way to stop him from searching that house.
After what felt like hours, two firemen emerged from the front door, dragging Marc and refusing to let him back in the building. He was explaining that he made it through most of the house but couldn’t see through the smoke in two of the kids’ rooms. While he pleaded his case, they assured him they would search every corner twice, if he would stay outside and let them do their jobs.
When he turned, soot smudged across his cheek, Sierra felt herself tremble as a sob caught in her throat. Marc wrapped both arms around her, while she buried her face against his shoulder and released the tears she’d been holding back.
“I thought I told you to stay put.” He brushed her hair aside and kissed her temple. Then he held her face in his hands and wiped her tears away with his thumbs.
“I’m not good at following orders, in case you haven’t noticed.”
He smiled and coughed.
“You okay?” She looked him over for any injuries. Ash and soot covered him, turning his dark hair a dull gray.
He finished coughing. “Yeah. Just smoke.”
Sierra couldn’t shake the idea that pieces of Denise’s house were in his hair. She ran her fingers through it and shook the dust out. He leaned over and tossed his head around, releasing a cloud of ash.
One of the firemen approached and told Marc that they cleared every room. No one was inside. Then he rejoined the others to continue fighting the blaze that had now taken over the back half of the house.
“At least they weren’t home.” She couldn’t think of anything else to say, and saying nothing felt impossible.
“I have to call her. They’ll be on their way back soon.” He looked at the house, then back at Sierra. “Can you stay right here? Please?”
She squeezed his arm. “I promise.”
He walked a few feet away to make the call, leaving Sierra to watch the firemen fight a losing battle, flames now appearing from the roof.
In the road behind the fire truck, a handful of neighbors gathered to point and hold their hands over their mouths in shock. One of them spotted Sierra and Marc and rushed through the yard. Sierra didn’t recognize her as anyone who’d lived in the neighborhood when she had. Marc was still on the phone giving Denise the horrible news, and the wide-open acreage didn’t give her a place to hide.
“Denise!” the middle-aged woman shouted, her short, bottle-blonde hair spiked at attention. She rushed toward Sierra, her pink flannel teacup robe sailing behind her. “Where are Denise and the kids?”
