Into the Fire (Flame in the Shadows Trilogy #1)

25. Tommy

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

TOMMY

I’m hidden in the narrow gap under my parents’ bed, watching bright crimson pools soak into the light carpet. A lake of blood.

“Where is the chip? Tell us, and it will be over. You don’t need to suffer like this.”

The she-monster is worse than the others. Her voice reminds me of broken glass, sharp and dangerous.

Mrs. Snow spits out a mouthful of blood. “We’ll never tell you anything.”

A heavy thud and Mr. Snow’s shouting a string of profanities. His wife doesn’t yell. No, she’s too busy choking on a surge of red-tinged vomit. I see her face for a moment as she curls toward the ground. Her skin streams crimson; puffy and torn.

I retch too, but the monsters don’t hear me because the female brute is yelling again.

She hovers over Mom now. Mom, who’s already been beaten to a pulp, her fingers snapped, her ribs shattered. Her breathing is shallow.

Two of the fiends push her to the ground, four more pull her arms and legs tight. She doesn’t look my way, though she knows I’m here.

I have to do something.

Cold sweat runs down my neck and my eyes dart to Mom’s cell phone, five feet away at the head of the bed, half-hidden where it landed under the nightstand.

If I could reach it and call the police … the monsters won’t see if I’m careful.

I could save her. All of them.

I try to crawl sideways, but I can’t move. My muscles have seized up so tight it hurts.

With a shaky breath, I shove against the terror that locks me in place. I fight viciously to twitch an arm, a leg, to make a sound, to do anything at all, anything but lie here still and silent.

Anything.

Mom’s ear-splitting cry of agony spears me to the floor. I heave up more vomit when I spot what they’ve done.

Her finger.

They cut off her finger.

It’s like I’m bound and gagged, a prisoner in my own mind as the monsters slowly fillet my parents and the Snows, breaking them apart piece by piece. Horrible wails of pain persist, worse and worse, until I’m sure I’ve gone mad.

I pray I’ll wake up. I pray I’ll pass out. I pray someone will come and save us.

But no one comes.

And the screams continue.

“Tommy! What’s wrong? What’s happening? Wake up! Wake up! ”

An angel … an angel’s calling my name.

Am I dead?

I jerk into a sitting position, eyes snapping open as a sharp, curling pain hits my gut. The world sways, washing back and forth in my throbbing head. Soft fingers wipe away the wetness that glazes my cheeks.

Mel’s room. I’m in Mel’s room.

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” Mel soothes, her features only just visible in the dim light cast by what’s left of her fire.

“Mel.” My voice breaks, and I reach for her like a drowning man, burying my face in her thick hair. She wraps her arms around me, holding me tight while I fight to master myself.

I don’t deserve her comfort. If I’d been brave, crawled to that cell phone, her parents might be here now.

Even so, I can’t pull away.

Her soft lips brush along my neck, each kiss echoing deep in my ruined soul. The warmth she ignited in my heart earlier swells again, drives out the darkness with its radiance.

When Mel presses her lips gently to my own, a shuddering jolt runs through me, scenes from a few hours ago filling my mind. Mel, head thrown back and cheeks flushed, calling out my name. That ivory skin under my hands, my tongue. The way she shivered for me.

Not a dream. Real.

Mel pulls back, compassion clear in those stunning eyes. She takes my hands. “Were you dreaming about that night? Our parents?”

Heat floods my face. How could she know? What did I do while I was asleep? Was I shouting? Crying?

I don’t want to talk about this. Praying she won’t ask for details, I nod.

Firelight flickers over Mel, painting her skin in oranges and golds and grays. She rubs little circles into my knuckles with her thumbs. “Do you dream about … that … a lot?”

It takes all my willpower to hold her gaze. “Yes.”

Her eyes are full of pity. I don’t like being the object of her pity. Of anyone’s, but especially hers. I’m the last person she should feel bad for.

I drop my eyes, stare unseeingly at the blanket draped over her lap.

“Tommy,” she murmurs. I glance back up.

Even in the semi-darkness, I can see it shining in her eyes: that same profound emotion I recognized earlier. The one that cut down my defenses like they were nothing.

“You’re not alone.” Mel’s words blaze. She squeezes my hands. “You don’t have to face the memories alone. Not anymore. I’m here for you.”

A shock of glittering tenderness jolts through me, followed immediately by a frisson of icy panic.

I think … I think I love her.

The force of this simple truth knocks the breath out of me. I run my knuckles along the soft curve of her cheek. So beautiful, but much more than that too. Kind. Passionate. Brave. Good.

I love her.

My stomach seizes up as fear slithers through my veins.

“Mel. I … I can’t…”

I can’t be with her. I’d have to come clean about our parents, and I can’t bear to see the betrayal, the hatred, simmering in her eyes. I’ll lose her.

The panic intensifies, crushes my lungs until I can’t draw breath. It’s heavy in my chest. So heavy. Too heavy.

Releasing one of my hands, Mel strokes my cheek. “You don’t have to tell me about it. But I’m here if you decide you want someone to talk to.”

“No. That’s not what I’m talking about. I mean what happened tonight, between us. It shouldn’t have happened. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have let it happen.” The words are ash on my tongue.

Pain breaks across Mel’s face.

I can’t look at her, can’t handle seeing her hurt, knowing I’m the reason.

“I see,” she says, her voice full of an aching sadness that tugs at the deepest part of me. She pulls her hands back, folding them in her lap. “Because of Cait?”

“What does Cait have to do with anything?”

Mel tilts her head, those beautiful eyes shimmering. “Well, you said this”—she waves a hand between us—“shouldn’t have happened. I thought you might feel that way because of her.”

I suck in a breath as her pain grates against me. Even if I can’t be with her, I don’t want her to think I don’t return her feelings, that tonight meant nothing.

“No, of course not. Cait’s a friend. My best friend, but nothing more.”

“That girl’s crazy about you.” Mel sighs.

The idea of Cait having romantic feelings for me is so absurd I huff a laugh, but it’s a humorless sound. “You’ve got her all wrong. We’ve been through a lot together, and she’s been there for me in more ways than I can count. I love her, and she loves me, but not like that. We’re family.”

Mel peeks up, her gaze mournful.

“Mel,” I whisper, and my anguish is clear in my voice. “I care about you too. I thought it was obvious. I want to be with you, more than you could know. I-I…”

My throat closes, choking the air from my lungs before I can tell her I love her. I fall silent, despair and longing thick in my chest.

“Then be with me.” Mel pins me with that fiery look she sometimes gets.

“It’s not that simple.” The words burn on their way out. “There’s something … I don’t…”

I reach over and take her hand. “I wish things were different. I wish I could be good enough for you. But I’m not, and you deserve much, much better than me.”

To my horror, tears fill Mel’s eyes. “Oh, Tommy. How can you think that? You are good enough. You are more than good enough. You’re the best person I know.”

Scooting toward me, Mel cups my face in her hands. “I’ve never felt like this before, the way I feel about you. I think…” She pauses, biting her lip. “I think I might be falling for you.”

Everything else fades. A thousand emotions roll through me all at once.

I don’t deserve her. But we love each other. By some miracle, she wants me . We have a shot at the kind of happiness I never thought I’d find.

“I think I’m falling for you too,” I whisper, half-strangled by the panic mounting in my chest. My hands are cold with it.

A smile brighter than the dawn lights Mel’s face. It’s so stunning I stop breathing and stare at her in wonder.

She leans up and kisses me, her lips soft. Warm.

With a low groan, I pull her closer, running my hands down the bare skin of her back. Tracing the shape of her.

Mel drops her fingers from my face. They glide down my chest, over my abdomen. Lower.

I lock her wrists in an iron grip. “Wait. I don’t want to lose you. Maybe we should stick to being friends.”

Even as I say the words, I know it’s far too late for that.

As if she can hear my thoughts, Mel says, “How can we be friends when we feel this way about each other?”

I sigh. “Maybe we can’t.”

“We’ll figure this out. Together. We don’t have to know what we’re doing. As long as I’m what you want, and you’re what I want, and we’re trying, that’s all I need.”

She gives me a small, hopeful smile, her eyes soft. And I know, deep in my bones, she’s where I want to be. I’ll do whatever it takes to be enough for her. To be someone who deserves her, even if it means…

I have to tell her.

My throat is so tight I can hardly breathe. I release her wrists, brushing a strand of dark hair away from her face. “Listen. There’s something you still don’t know. About that night.”

Mel’s brows pull together, and my heart pounds like I’m staring down an armed opponent.

Chin up. Spit it out. She needs to know.

“I could’ve … I could’ve saved them.” I sound like I swallowed a bucket of gravel, but at least the words are out. “My parents. And yours.”

Mel blinks, the color draining from her shadowed cheeks.

“When the Organization stormed the room, my mom’s phone fell under the nightstand. I tried … to crawl over to it. To call for help. The police. But … I was too afraid. I did nothing instead. And our parents died because of it.”

Mel licks her lips, her beautiful eyes wet. “You…”

This is it. The end.

There’s no air.

“You think it was your fault.”

Yes, I want to say. It was. But the words don’t come.

Mel reaches out, covers my hand with hers. My skin prickles, the guilt so sharp in my stomach I think I’ll be sick.

“Tommy. Listen to me. If you tried to call someone, the Organization would have seen you or heard you. You would’ve been killed too. You must realize that.”

A tear rolls down her cheek. “It was not your fault .”

It would be easy enough to believe her. I want to. But I know how kind she is. She must feel obligated to comfort me despite my revelation.

“Don’t do that. Please.”

“I mean it.”

Her eyes are so clear, so deep, I can see all the way into her soul. There are no shadows within, no doubt, no blame or hatred. Only sadness and love and pain.

She does mean it.

I open my mouth, the words stuck. I was so sure she’d hate me.

I hate me.

Mel presses my knuckles to her cheek. “If our situations were reversed, would you blame me?”

My chest crumbles when I picture it. A young Mel, trapped under the bed, witness to the slaughter. Of course I wouldn’t blame her.

“That’s different.”

“How?”

Mel’s room is darker now, the flames almost gone, the embers muted. I stare at their red glow, unable to look at her.

I don’t have an answer. Not a good one, anyway.

Overwhelming pressure builds in my chest and stings my eyes. The embers blur as a sob forces its way past my locked jaw, the sharp edge of guilt I’ve carried for so long softening a fraction.

Her kindness knows no limits.

I suck in a deep breath, press a chaste kiss to her lips. “Thank you.”

She only smiles, kisses away my tears. Then she snuggles down into the blankets. Golden warmth glows in my chest.

She knows, and she’s still here.

Not just here. Mine.

I lie down and pull her close. She nuzzles into me, her soft, contented sigh hanging over us.

As sleep takes me, I dream, but not of horror and pain. Not this time.

A million shimmering stars stretch endlessly in every direction. Shining like the moon, dazzling in her beauty, Mel stands beside me. That sweet smile of hers lights her face as she takes my hand, pulling me into a celestial dance. We twirl together through the night sky, and my love for her burns like a flame in my heart, keeping the darkness at bay.