Page 117 of Dead Love

She turned toward the back room. I cleared my throat.

“You should go,” I said.

She raised a brow at me. “Excuse me, sir?”

“You heard those sirens?” I motioned in the direction of Mount Punica. “This place is next.”

Her face turned pale.

“You should go,” I repeated. I was burning this shop down whether or not she was in it.

She quickly ran to the storeroom, grabbing her bag, and when she stumbled for the key to lock up behind her, I held out my hand.

“I’ll take those,” I said.

She threw them across the street, then lurched forward, tripping down the sidewalk. It’s not like I actually needed them, but it would be more convenient if I could get through the entrance easily.

The alarms were finally hushed, signaling that all the required forces had arrived at the Wild Berry Trailhead. I steadied my breath. The canisters were heavy in my hands, but as the fluid fell, the weight lifted from my shoulders. Drenching the pots. The vines. The ribbons in that back room. The coolers with shivering flowers.

I lit a match, dropping it down, the rush of heat blowing against my skin. I stepped back, exiting the building, entranced as the fires engulfed the structure. Soon, it would spread, taking the building to one side, and the wildflowers on the other.

Do you ever get the feeling like you’re reliving the same day on repeat?

Kora’s voice filled my brain as I went to the viewpoint railing and admired the burning flower shop. Three years ago, I had seen her there for the first time. And now, I was watching one of her childhood memories burn to the ground. Like I had burned her house.

You are better than this,she had said.You’ve been so against everything.

I clenched my fists. I was only against what kept Kora stuck in a cycle where she was never anything but what the other people wanted. That would never be okay with me.

But it’s not that simple, Vincent. You know it’s not.

My chest tightened, thinking of her words. The way the moonlight lit her face in shades of blue, a coolness that never left her.

You have to start treating me like I treat you.

The flames curled around the top of the building, flushing over the sides. And still, I felt nothing. What would I accomplish by doing this? A dryness swelled in the back of my throat, a numbness coursing through me. It didn’t matter how much of the town I burned. Kora had to decide for herself.

It was never up to me.

I grabbed my phone out of my pocket and dialed Kora’s number. It went straight to voicemail, so I searched for Shea’s number on the internet and sent the call. The phone rang three times. But finally, she answered.

“Hello?” she asked, her voice hesitant. “Mr. Erickson?”

“Your shop is on fire,” I said.

Her tone immediately shifted into anger. “What is this? What are you—”

“If you want to save any of it, you’ll have to go now. Call the fire department.”

“You can’t—”

I hung up the phone. Then I got in my car and headed to my house. If I was lucky, the firefighters had contained the Wild Berry Trailhead by now, and it wouldn’t touch my home or the cemetery. Inside, the house was silent, the dogs still with Catie. I grabbed my other gun, then buckled the holster, stowing my weapon, checking the bullets.

I went through the cemetery. Black clouds hung above Punica, the sky a deep orange. The fire must have spread from Shea’s shop, taking the neighboring store with it.

I sat down next to her grave. I shook my head, irritated at myself for phrasing it like that. It wasourgrave. I ran my fingers along the daffodil, a hint of regret deep in my stomach. I had burned that flower field, a piece of her, a piece ofus,and nothing would be the same.

But fuck it all. I didn’t want things to stay the same. I wanted Kora to be free. Even if that meant free from me.