Page 33 of Evergreen Desires (Wildheart Chronicles #1)
My intent was not to hurt Jake. Just the opposite—I didn’t want him in any sort of pain, and seeing him hurt was like a stake to my heart.
Given the slamming of the back door, he was in pain. I stood up from where I was sitting on the edge of the bed and opened my bedroom window. If Jake was outside, I wanted to at least be able to hear him, just in case. It was not dark yet, but I couldn’t let go of the need to protect him.
Looking out the window, I saw Jake head towards the greenhouses. I let out a breath I felt like I'd been holding since the incident downstairs.
He’d be safe in the greenhouses. Even if he went on an emotional rampage there, it’d be fine—just would mean a bit of dirt and plants to clean up. I wanted him to work this out so he wasn’t hurt in the long run when he did decide to leave.
The idea of Jake ultimately leaving put the weight of a brick in the pit of my stomach.
Turning to my bed, I lay down with my head on the pillow and my forearm across my eyes, trying to hold back the tears that were screaming to get out.
A large part of me didn’t want Jake to leave.
Everything in my being enjoyed having him around; my beast knew that he was his.
Still, the logical, stoic side of me knew that he would be safer away from me.
I could just stop the cannabis business. See the current plants through the harvest, then sell off my license and even the branding. Will would be fine with it if it meant happiness. However, if Jake realized I was doing that just for him, it could backfire and push him away.
These decisions were emotionally draining.
I felt myself slipping in and out of sleep.
After a few minutes of slumber, I thought about what it would be like to grow old with Jake.
The next cycle, I worried about him being taken advantage of by another boyfriend.
It was a true ebb and flow of emotions intermixed with catnaps.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The door chime for the greenhouse came through the keypad in the bedroom, startling me awake. I didn’t move from my position on the bed with my eyes covered.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
“Hmm, what is he doing?” Given the quick succession of the door openings at the greenhouse, I moved to my window to take a peek across the field in that direction. I didn’t see anything; all seemed still. Maybe Will and Mat popped over. Will was always leaving something there in the office.
Let me grab some water before Jake comes back. I wanted to give him his space, and my wandering downstairs while he was still ruminating wouldn’t help. Slowly creeping down the stairs just in case he came back in and I just missed it, I headed towards the kitchen to grab a glass.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
I peered out the kitchen window, expecting to see Jake and maybe Will and Mateo coming out of the greenhouse, but I saw nothing. I shrugged. Maybe he went through the front office.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
I turned to gaze out the window again. “What the fuck?”
Alarm set in this time. There was a faint orange glow. I dropped the glass in the sink, and it shattered. I darted through the back door.
As I reached the side door to the greenhouse, smoke was rising into the air. Swinging the door open hard, I saw the fire at the far end of the greenhouse. "Fuck!”
The smell of gasoline mixed with the pot smell was overwhelming. Gasoline. Arson. Of course. The flames had consumed the far two, maybe three rows of tables.
I grabbed my phone and pressed the emergency call button. The minute I heard a voice answer, I shouted, “There’s a fire at Boon Farms, Armsville, 1245 Evergreen Grove Road. Send a fire truck.”
I didn’t wait for acknowledgment. I also didn’t hang up; I just sat my phone down on the workbench and raced to the irrigation system controls to quickly activate them.
Then, I ran towards the area of the fire to grab the closest hose to start working on the fire.
The smoke, as well as the smells, was overwhelming.
As I fought the flames with the hose, the heat intensified, and the crackling of burning plants filled the air.
The smoke thickened, making it difficult to see.
The acrid smell of burning plastic and cannabis filled my nostrils, adding to the overwhelming chaos.
Crack. Fuck—the ceiling. Looking up, I saw the metal roof supportsbuckling under the intense heat. Panic surged through me as I knew what was about to happen.
Suddenly, a familiar smell hit me. Something that I could pick out over everything else. Warm milk and honey with some fear, and… blood. That last part overpowered my emotions. Within a second, I was in full Squatch mode, turning to follow my nose. Greenhouse be damned if Jake was in need.
It wasn’t long before I found Jake unconscious and tied up. He was shoved under one of the plantings table a little way down one of the rows. The fire hadn’t reached him yet, but it was close.
Jake was my singular focus. I bent down, reaching for him under the table, and pulled him towards me. I held him in my arms to listen for breathing. He was still unconscious, but was moaning in pain. He was alive.
I untied him before scooping him into my arms, standing, and rushing down the row. I needed to get him out of here.
I saw Will running in the side door as I rounded the corner. “Beau! Beau!” he screamed.
“Right here! ”
From above— pop. I looked up just as the metal roof supports failed.
They came down on me, hard. The metal beam hit me on the head with a bone-jarring impact.
Pain shot through my skull, and I felt a warm, sticky liquid trickle down my forehead.
The weight of the collapsed roof pressed down on me, making it hard to breathe.
But my instinct to protect Jake prevailed, and I managed to half-toss, half-roll him forward, just in time to avoid the full brunt of the collapse.
Will grabbed a fire extinguisher on the wall as he raced towards me.
“No!” I yelled. “Get Jake!”
As I lay there on the ground, everything became a blur. The smoke, the heat, the pain—all of it swirled around me. I tried to stay conscious, to keep fighting, but my body felt heavy and weak. The world began to fade, and I could only hope that help would arrive soon, not for me but for Jake.