novelxo The Front Runner: Chapter 31
I have no idea what I’m walking into, but I know it’s not good. I could see the glow of my property from down the road as I sped back from a court date in Vancouver where I was really looking forward to burying that slime ball Patrick Cassel.
When I drive through the tall iron gates, with my heart firmly in my throat, I’m met with chaos. Lights flash and horses are loose around the property. I sigh when I see Farrah and Loki closed off in the paddock closest to the house. Thank God.
I’m relieved to see Mira’s truck is here. I suspect we’re going to need her help, and I’m willing to endure the pain of being around her if it means saving my horses’ lives.
Nauseating butterflies erupt in my stomach as Nadia runs toward my car, waving bandaged hands, tears clinging to her mascara, leaving black smudges down her cheeks. For a girl who looks constantly put together, she is downright frantic.
I sit frozen, not sure I’m ready to face what I’m about to walk into. I’m watching my goal go up in flames. Literally. I’ve spent the past several years chasing a vendetta. And here I am, watching it all turn to ash. I don’t even know how to feel.
Nadia yanks my driver’s side door open. She’s shouting frantically, but I can’t quite wrap my head around what she’s saying. I’m too lost in the flames, what they represent.
It’s almost hypnotic.
Her hand lands hard and fast across my cheek, forcing my attention to her. “Wake the fuck up! Mira is in there! She hasn’t come out!” She’s screaming now. Distraught.
And in a blast, I absorb all her anxiety. Her horror. I’m in motion before I have a single second to think about it. I leave my door open as I jog toward the barn, the devastation of the fire dawning on me.
“Stefan! They said they can’t go in. But she’s in there! She sent me out and went in instead, promising to get Loki and Farrah! They both came out. They’re the last stall. But she hasn’t followed!” The pain is palpable as it rolls off my sister in waves.
Everyone is just standing back, watching.
“Where is she? Where is Mira?” I hear Billie from just behind me, her golden eyes desperately searching the crowd while Hank stands at her side, his green eyes alight with pure agony as he wraps an arm around Billie’s midsection to hold her back.
Word travels fast in a small town, and I’m certain they could see the fire from their property. They must have arrived mere moments after me, and I’m sure they overheard Nadia’s shouting.
The lack of action enrages me. I enrage me. I told Mira she only ever does anything to benefit herself. Now she’s in my burning barn. Saving my horses. Saving my sister.
And I said that to her. What I should have said to her is that I love her. That I needed some time to lick my wounds. That we would be fine. That I was going to come back. That I’d never felt this way about another person before.
That I never wanted to again.
The need to tell her overwhelms me. And instinct overtakes all sense. All I know is I need her.
I need to tell her I love her.
I take one look into my newfound father’s eyes, and something passes between us. An understanding. An agreement. I only just found him, and now I might lose him. But if I don’t at least try to get her out of there, I will lose myself. He nods at me, and with his blessing, I push through the line of firefighters.
“Sir!”
“Sir, stop! The structure isn’t stable!”
A hand reaches out to grip me, but I’m stronger. My strength is coming from somewhere else right now. Adrenaline.
I shake the person off and hold an arm up over my mouth to stifle the smoke. Once I cross the threshold, I realize they localized the flames on the outside of the building but the smoke inside is suffocating. It’s captured in here like steam from a shower in a closed bathroom. Deep down, I know I’m making a stupid decision walking into a burning building.
But even deeper down than that, I know it’s the right decision. It’s the only decision.
Every stall door is open as I rush down the hall, checking for where she might be located. Panic rises in me every time I check a stall and don’t find her. It chokes me. The smoke I can handle. Losing her when I’ve only just found her, is what I won’t survive. It’s what’s closing my throat and making my eyes sting.
Flames, spurred on by the hay stall at the back, cut through the smoke. The heat is borderline overwhelming, and the thought I might have to turn back flits across my mind before I shake it away.
And then I see it, a dark lump on the floor. Mira.
I rush forward, shucking my jacket off and covering her head with it. The long tips of her hair are singed from the close flames. I pat them out over the top of my jacket before scooping up her limp form.
“Stefan…” I can barely hear her. “I got them out for you.”
Her words cut me off at the knees. I did this. I told her something so cruel that she walked into a burning building to show me otherwise.
“Mira. I love you.” But she doesn’t hear me. Her body goes heavy in my arms.
Sagging. Lifeless.
She doesn’t respond. But I chant my confession as I turn and run for the door.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
All those months ago, in almost this exact spot, I carried a limp, lifeless foal out of this barn. And she sat in the rain with me digging a hole for that foal, even though she didn’t need to help. I don’t know why she did it. I don’t know how she knew I needed her steady, quiet company that morning. But I fully intend to spend the rest of my life repaying her for it. For sticking it out. For not shunning me, or hating me, or thinking the worst of me when everyone else did.
For protecting me.
And now it’s my turn to protect her.
I rush out of the barn, staying low and holding her as tight as possible. Her limbs swing as I hug her to my chest and pray to whatever power is listening to please not let this be it for us. I tell her over and over again, hoping she can hear me through it all.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
I stumble out into the fresh air, gasping to get it into my lungs. “Help!” I cough, moving as far away from the burning building as possible. “She needs help!”
Bodies surge in around us as I drop to my knees and place her on the gravel road as carefully as I can. “Mira.” I smooth her burnt hair away from her beautiful face, smudges of ash trailing in the wake of my fingers. “Mira.” I shake her gently and am met with the heavy feel of a body that offers no resistance. The firefighters descend around us, but I can’t take my eyes off of her. “I love you.”
What if the last thing I ever said to her was harsh? What if the last thing I ever did was make her cry?
“Sir, we need you to move.” Hands grip at me, pulling me away from her when all I want is to cover her body with mine. To give her anything she needs. Lungs. Skin. Life. She can have it all.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
“Stefan, they need space.” Hank’s soothing voice filters in through the chaos as his hand squeezes at the back of my neck to urge me away from her. “Move back so they can do their jobs.”
What if I never see her again? I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself.
Nausea surges in me and for the second time in a week, I get up and run toward the lake where I can empty my stomach in peace. Paramedics surge past me in the opposite direction carrying duffel bags and oxygen. The surrounding noises are loud, but all I can hear is the whoosh of blood in my ears, the quickened thump of my heart beating through my body as I lean up against a tree and give myself over to the sickness.
What if she dies saving everything that she thinks is dear to me without knowing she is everything to me?
I love you. I love you. I love you.
The guilt eats at me, tearing at my flesh. I feel like I’m being ripped apart piece by piece. I gasp for air and stare out over the lake, wishing my mom were here when a warm hand slides over my shoulder.
Hank says nothing, but I know it’s him. We have a connection and barely know each other. Deep down, I know he’s my dad. Sure, a DNA test will prove it, but I already know it. I know it in my bones.
His firm grip on my shoulder soothes me as I try to recapture control of my breathing.
“She’s breathing. She’s got this.”
I peek over my shoulder. Relief and regret pummel me with equal strength. “I can’t lose her.”
He gives me a solemn nod. “I know.”
“I just can’t.”
“I know.”
“I love her.”
He sighs. “I know, son. I know.”
I stare back out over the lake, silently begging my mother for some of her strength. Her strength to endure years of what she did to keep us safe. I need that strength to keep Mira safe.
“She’d be proud of you.”
My breathing goes raspy.
“I know I am.”
My eyes sting, and I wish I were man enough to respond to that. It’s all I’ve wanted to hear for years. But my brain fixates on Mira.
I squeeze his hand back. “Thank you.”
“Go be with her. She needs you.”
I don’t like the way he says that. It sounds far too final. It makes me feel like a shmuck for wasting precious time retching when I should have been with her. Even though what she needs is medical attention.
I rush across the grass, watching them load her unconscious body onto a stretcher with an oxygen mask affixed firmly over her delicate face. Billie and Nadia stand huddled close to each other, tears twinkling on their cheeks. The back doors of the ambulance open and Billie moves to get in with Mira.
“No,” I say. “I’m going.”
She glares at me, her eyes bright like the flames as they rake over my face, assessing me and looking like they find me entirely lacking. “I’m not sure what she sees in you. I’m not sure what drives her to defend you, to choose you when she could have anyone she wants—to walk through fire for you.” Her finger presses into the center of my chest. “But this is your chance to prove yourself to everyone. And if you ever make her cry again, I have a lot of land at my disposal to bury your body.”
I’ve always thought Billie was a bit of a loose cannon, but her love is absolute. I love that Mira has friends like this in her corner. I’ve never had anyone like this in my corner. And her challenge is one I’m happy to accept. I nod, never dropping her eye contact.
“Who’s with her?” one paramedic calls out of the back of the ambulance.
And I don’t miss a beat. “I am!” I grab a handle and pull myself onto the small bench beside Mira’s still form.
Moments later, I take one last look at the wide eyes looking on. Her friend. My sister. My dad.
And then the doors close, and it’s just us.
I grip her hand and drop my head to my chest.
I need it to be us forever.
The hospital is a blur. I spend the night drifting off in an uncomfortable chair, too anxious to sleep but too exhausted to keep my eyes open. People I know or recognize flit in and out. And when Mira’s parents rush in through the door, I stand.
Her mom envelops me in a full hug before she breaks down in my arms, her tears soaking through my thin dress shirt. “Thank you.”
If she knew the things I said to her daughter, she wouldn’t be thanking me.
“You saved her. Th—thank you.”
She holds on to me like I’m a lifeline. The hug more than just an embrace. Deeper than that. I feel her gratitude wrap around me as she clings to my body, vibrating under my arms. Her dad and grandmother stand behind her looking stoic.
When Sylvia pulls away, her father shakes my hand, tearing up, unable to say anything. Which works just fine for me.
Her Nana, though, steps up close, gripping my chin tightly in her bony hand. And then she smiles. “How are you feeling?”
“Guilty,” I reply honestly, because there’s no lying to this woman.
Her head quirks, eyes twinkling. “Why?”
My palm rasps across my face. “I can’t help but feel responsible for her being here. Injured. God knows wha—” My voice cracks, and I look away.
She pats my chest and shakes her head. “Poor sweet fool. That girl was coming back for you. Don’t you know her well enough to know she doesn’t quit? She walked into that barn because that’s the type of person she is. A little prickly, but as loyal as they come once you get her. And don’t worry, you’ve got her. I rather think you’re stuck with her.”
Claws rake down the back of my throat. I know she’s trying to make me feel better, but the guilt is still there. Magnified by the longing I feel. I just want to be with her.
I want to hold her.
When she wakes up, I’m never walking away from her again. I’m going to bask in being stuck with her.
No matter what it takes.
And I’m going to tell her I love her. Over, and over, and over again.