“But you did this!” I waved my hand toward my house in the background, fighting to control my lip that trembled at the sight of the home my grandfather built going up in flames. “And how would you take Oliver anywhere if you’d killed him?”
“What?” Natasha gasped. Her head shook again, her hands tugging her hair out of the way so she could see me. “No, he’s with Logan. I made sure of it.”
“No, he’s right there.”
I pointed to the snowbank he’d been sitting on moments earlier only to find the spot empty. Suddenly, I felt my world crumble around me .
My gaze shot to the house, and I watched as his tiny body disappeared inside. And then I heard his faint words, calling out for Scout.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Bravery
“OLIVER!” I screamed. My feet sprinted toward the house, pulse racing.
Natasha was beside me, her sobs hysterical. We reached the porch just as the first beam crashed at our feet. It was still connected to the roof, rendering us unable to go under or over it.
“Oh, God!” Natasha bellowed, tears pouring from her eyes. “No! NO!”
“Shut up!” I pushed her back, needing to think. The charred beam blocked the entrance, but with a little maneuvering using the railing of the porch and Natasha’s help, I’d be able to jump over it. It was my only option; the back door would probably be destroyed by now, and there was no time to go check.
I climbed onto the railing, bracing myself against the hot beams overhead.
“What are you doing?” Natasha sobbed, panic-stricken.
“Saving our boy.” I kicked the beam, needing to shift it so it would fall away and unblock the doorway enough for me to slip inside. “Help me!” I ordered, seething at her uselessness.
Natasha took my cue and looked around. She grabbed a small metal patio table and used it to push against the beam until it began to move and finally fell, clearing the way.
Before I could even jump down, Natasha bolted inside frantically, calling out for Oliver.
I ran in after her, screaming over the roar of the flames, explaining that he’d be upstairs. Scout was afraid of the steep steps leading to the attic, and would only come down if Oliver carried him—which meant he’d still be up there.
The smoke was growing denser and blacker with every passing second. Even though I knew my way, I reached my hand out to feel around, my shirt over my face. I stumbled through the living room and down the hall, where the steps were situated at the end, but found myself hindered by a wall of flames.
I couldn’t see anything but red heat and black clouds. My eyes burned and my throat was rough. The only sound was that of a crackling hiss.
“Natasha!” I screamed, taking in a mouthful of smoke through the cotton fabric. I choked on it, coughing, but continued. “Oliver! OLIVER!”
Tears rolled down my cheeks in defeated cascades. I couldn’t get to the stairs. A loud crash sounded behind me. I jerked back, whipping around to find the ceiling was caving in.
The hardest thing I ever did was move myself farther away from that hall. My entire body shook, the fire nothing compared to the pain ripping through my heart. I couldn’t save him—it was up to Natasha now, and Oliver was trapped and alone. Was he even still conscious?
I ran out, unable to face the dire emotions but not willing to give up. Bumping against walls and stumbling over debris, I pushed hard and moved faster.
After I reached the porch, I flew out into the yard. I suddenly noticed my right pant leg was covered in flames; I hadn’t even felt it.
I dropped down and rolled, putting the flames out in the snow before bolting back up and running to the side of the house, where there was an attic window.
There, staring back at me, was the frightened face of Oliver, who was clutching Scout in his arms. I could see his tears glistening in the sunlight, even through the substantial smoke surrounding him.
He beat his little fists on the window, his mouth open. His words screamed out, unheard.
I raced to the tree line leading into the forest, found a handful of rocks, and sprinted back.
“Move aside!” I shouted, my throat scorching. He couldn’t hear me. I held up the rock and made a throwing motion then waved my other hand, directing him to step out of the way. He understood and vanished from view.
Using all my strength, I hurled the first rock, howling when it beat against the bricks. I threw another, which hit but wasn’t strong enough to puncture the glass. With fierce tears and exhausted limbs, I continued chucking rocks over and over until one finally blasted through.
My relief never had a chance as wild flames shot out from the open space.
“NO!” I screamed, my hands gripping my head. “Oliver! OLIVER!”
The fire receded, and smoke billowed out of the window.
“OLIVER!” I screamed more loudly. “ANSWER ME!”
Then I saw it: something large and dark surrounding the window. I waited, but there was nothing.
“Oliver!” I cried, sobbing. “Please!”
Natasha’s head suddenly poked out. “Catch him!” she yelled down.
I sobered instantly, my head nodding frantically. She threw a blanket over the edge of the window, and I watched her help Oliver crawl out.
His little body hung down the side of the house, his hands wrapped around his mother’s. She was speaking to him, tears raging down her blackened face, but I couldn’t hear what she was saying.
“I’m right here, Oliver!” I shouted up in a way I hoped was reassuring. I stood under him, and when Natasha’s eyes moved from her son’s to mine, I prepared my stance.
She let go, and Oliver cried out. He fell until he was on me, knocking me down to the ground, breaking his fall.
He rolled over, cradling his arm and rolling into a ball. I didn’t need to be a doctor to see that the bone wasn’t in the right spot. He’d definitely broken it.
I dropped down beside him, wiping the soot from his face. “It’s okay now. It’s over.” I hugged him tightly, my emotions unhinged.
“It hurts,” he wailed.
“I know, honey. I need you to stay strong while I help your mom get out, and then we’ll get you to a doctor. Just stay right here, okay?” My words were rushed. I was desperate to get Natasha out.
He nodded, his eyes hooded. “My mommy and Scout.”
“They’re coming.” I stood, looking back up for Natasha.
She was there with Scout in her arms, surprising me when she held him out and dropped him. I caught him with ease and set him beside Oliver quickly.
Another loud commotion filled the air. I watched in horror as the roof began to pop and one side collapsed in.
“Natasha!” I cupped my mouth, shouting as loudly as I could.
“I won’t fit!” she hollered, attempting to squeeze her shoulders through.
The window wasn’t exactly the largest, but she had to make it work. There was no other option.
“Yes, you will!”
In the distance, I heard the faint sound of sirens. Help was coming.
“I can’t!” she screeched, eyes locking down on mine. “Take care of my baby! Please!”
“No! You will not do this to him!” Anger fueled my roars. “You don’t get to give up today—not in front of your son, and not in my house! Try harder—for him, damn it!”