Hill clears his throat and I look up, about to apologize again for the delay, when the door pushes open. The classroom clock ticks over, another minute that she’s late. I requested both parents meet me at three it’s now quarter past the hour. If I hadn’t had seen him with my own eyes, I wouldn’t have believed it. Zayden is the last person I’d expect to deliver the punch. His dark, overgrown hair hangs over his forehead, covering one eye. Zayden Knight sits on the opposite side of the room waiting quietly for his mother to arrive. His son, Tommy, sits by his side, the black eye he earned in class today is almost swollen shut. Hill leans forward, just as irritated at the wait. I look across at the angry brown eyes of one very upset father. This meeting is not how I wanted to end my workday. Sitting at my desk, I hold in my frustration. Inky darkness fogs my view as I struggle to fill my lungs. Frantically, I pull harder, wrestling with the lock. Panic stirs when the handle doesn’t turn. The metal singes my skin but doesn’t stop me in my escape. Reaching the door, my fingers close around the brass handle. The open flames lick out as I force myself to the only available exit. Dazed, I drop to my hands and begin to crawl my way to the back door, the hallway now swallowed by the blackened smoke. The house shudders the explosion knocks me off balance, forcing me down to the shaky ground. I stand fixed, mesmerized by the bright orange cinder, as if the seductive blaze calls to me. The front of my four-bedroom home burns rapidly, engulfing everything in sight. A wave of heat blankets me as it takes a moment to register the dangerous flames dancing before my eyes. The burning stench hits me first, its strength potent enough to overpower my taste buds.

“Zane,” I whisper again as I walk down the long darkened hall. Grabbing my robe from the end of the bed, I wrap it around myself and creep out of the bedroom in search of my fiancé. My heart beats double time, the rhythm now matching the rapid blinking of the clock. Looking toward the red light of his alarm clock illuminating the otherwise pitch-black room, the clock numbers blink incessantly.Ī shiver of alarm runs through me as though ice just replaced my spine. Reaching out to Zane, my hand finds the coolness of the empty sheets.

The rumble of a motorcycle wakes me from my sleep, stirring the once peaceful night. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.Įdited by Becky Johnson, Hot Tree EditingĬover design © Louisa Maggio at LM Creations Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading and sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher is unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. All characters, organizations and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.Īll rights reserved.

Incandescent by River Savage