Page 21

Eleven Years Ago, July

“Tyson,” I whispered, jostling him.

“Mmmpf,” he said, rolling over.

“There’s someone at the door downstairs.”

He turned quickly, suddenly awake, listening.

In a flash, he was on his feet, reaching into the bedside table to pull out his handgun.

He released the safety, swinging open the bedroom door and creeping onto the landing in his boxers as I pulled on a T-shirt and gym shorts and went to the window that looked out over the pool, lifting the blackout shades.

I gasped as my eyes caught sight of the flames erupting from Ian’s trailer, a column of black smoke rising into the night sky.

I swiped my phone from the bedside table, dialing 911 as I dashed out the door and down the stairs, not bothering to find shoes.

I could see Andie banging at the glass but flew past her into the kitchen on Tyson’s heels, reciting the address into the phone.

“We need the fire department, fast,” I said.

Tyson dropped the gun to the island with a clatter and pulled a fire extinguisher from beneath the sink, tossing it to me. “I’m grabbing the other one,” he said as he went into the laundry room off the kitchen.

I ran to the sliding glass door and flung it open. Andie was in sleep shorts and a ripped T-shirt, her hair wild, ash streaked across her face. “You have to help me,” she cried. “Ian’s not waking up and I can’t drag him by myself.”

“There’s someone in the trailer,” I said to the operator on the phone. “He’s unresponsive. Please send help fast.”

I waited for confirmation before hanging up, then looked at Andie. “What’s he on?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “He was pretty fucked up when he passed out.”

I gripped the fire extinguisher to my chest as we sprinted across the pool deck and out the back gate. “But he’s breathing?”

She nodded, her eyes scared. “He was when I left.”

The ground was still wet from the rain, leaving the path to the trailer slippery and pocked with puddles, and I slid in the mud, catching myself with the base of the fire extinguisher. “Where is he?” I asked, getting back to my feet.

“In the bedroom,” she answered. “I went out the window. The fire’s in the kitchen.”

The flames reflected in the surface of the lake as we raced around it, and a chemical smell accosted my nostrils. “Is the bedroom door closed?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

As we neared the trailer, I saw that only the glass door was shut. I hit the bottom of the fire extinguisher into the latch, coughing when it swung open and a plume of smoke billowed out.

I covered my face with the bottom of my shirt, remaining on the top step just outside the living room as I pulled the pin on the fire extinguisher and aimed blindly in the direction of the flames, firing in a sweeping motion. In a flash, Tyson was beside me, doing the same.

“What are you doing?” Andie cried. “That’s not gonna work. We have to get him out.”

She was right, our efforts didn’t seem to be doing much good at all. But the windows were so far off the ground that we needed something to stand on to get up to them. “Do you have a ladder?” I asked.

“No.”

Tyson continued to work on the fire as Andie and I glanced around the yard. We saw the plastic chair at the same time. She grabbed it and started running toward the back of the trailer.

“Come on,” I yelled to Tyson. “We need your help pulling him out.”

Tyson cast a glance at me as he continued spraying the fire. He said something, but I couldn’t make it out with the roar of the flames and his elbow covering his nose and mouth.

“What?” I shouted.

“We should wait for the fire department,” he repeated.

I shook my head. “He could be dead by the time they get here!”

“We’re not risking our lives for him,” Tyson said.

I drew back, shocked. “We have to try.”

“He’s put us in a very bad situation. We’re better off without him.”

It was true, we were under Ian’s thumb, running the sales deflation program constantly to be able to pay him the cash he demanded. But it had never occurred to me not to save him.

“I’m not letting him die,” I said. “And I will never speak to you again if you do.”

When I reached the back of the trailer, I saw Andie standing on the chair, struggling to pull herself up on the window frame. I came up behind her and hoisted her into the open window.

“Use your shirt like a mask,” I called out to her as I placed my hands on the windowsill and struggled to lift myself up.

I’d gotten my chin and shoulders through when Tyson showed up. “We’re gonna regret this,” he said, giving me a boost from behind.

Andie was already tugging on Ian, her shirt covering her nose, when I dropped through the window onto the mattress. The room was thick with smoke as I pulled my own shirt up over my nose, my eyes stinging.

I took Ian’s wrist in my hand, placing two fingers over his pulse. It was weak, but present. “He’s alive,” I said, slapping him across the face.

He didn’t wake. I slapped him again, to no avail, as Tyson came through the window.

“How are we gonna get him out?” Andie asked.

“We can prop him by the window, then you and I can push him out,” I said to Andie. “Tyson will be outside to catch him.”

Tyson nodded grimly, already hooking his arms under Ian’s armpits. He dragged him across the bed, set him up by the window, then went out backward. “Okay,” he said. “Pass him to me.”

I grabbed one foot and she grabbed the other and we pulled until his legs were dangling out the window. “Okay,” I called to Tyson, coughing.

Andie and I lifted Ian and gave a push.

He was stuck on the frame and then in an instant, his weight shifted, and he was gone, ripped from our hands by gravity. Andie cried out as he fell on top of Tyson, knocking them both to the ground.

I turned to gesture for her to go out first, but she was rummaging through the closet. “Come on,” I called. “We need to get out of here.”

“I’m coming,” she said. “Go. I just have to get something.”

I didn’t have it in me to argue. I was beginning to feel weak from smoke inhalation as I stuck my head out the window to see Tyson dragging Ian away from the trailer.

The chair was on its side, but the drop wasn’t more than six feet.

I swung my legs over the windowsill and tumbled to the mud.

I felt the jolt all the way through my body when I struck the ground, falling to my knees. “Come on,” I called to Andie.

But the window remained empty. After a moment, I heard a loud bang from somewhere in the trailer, and the glass of the window cracked. “Andie!” I yelled, panic rising in me. “Get out of there!”

A backpack came crashing out the window, then Andie’s head appeared.

Her shirt had fallen and her face appeared drained of blood, her eyes blinking slowly.

Something was wrong. As her hand gripped the windowsill, I saw it was covered in blood.

I grabbed the chair and pulled it over to the window, reaching up to her.

“Come on,” I said. “I’ll catch you.”

She stepped through the window with the slow, unsteady movements of someone heavily intoxicated, and I caught a glimpse of dark crimson smeared across her torso as she plunged into my arms. I lost my balance on the flimsy chair, and we toppled to the ground.

My body absorbed most of the shock as she fell on top of me, and I was grateful for the thick layer of mud.

Once I’d caught my breath, I scooted out from under her and she groaned, seemingly unable to sit up.

“Are you hurt?” I asked, sitting up to look her over.

“Oh shit,” I said when I saw the blood oozing from a long, jagged wound across her torso, just above her left hip.

I pulled my shirt mask over my head and pressed it to the wound. She yelped in pain.

“The ambulance will be here soon,” I promised, praying that was true. “What happened?”

“The door exploded,” she said weakly. “A piece of it hit me.”

I heard sirens in the distance, and tears of relief sprang to my eyes. “It’s gonna be okay,” I said, holding the blood-soaked shirt to her wound. “They’re almost here. Just breathe.”

Tyson got to his feet, leaving Ian lying in the grass, and waved his arms overhead as he ran toward the flashing red and white lights, his shadows jumping and twisting in the glare of the flames.