s her, and that’s what made me realize I was a sick bastard.
It didn’t matter if she’d enjoyed it. She had, I’d felt her cum with an intense force multiple times. But if she’d never had me introduce her to that kind of kink, she never would have known what she was missing. She probably would have passed her life content with what she had, free from this darkness. Now that I’d brought her into the sick, twisted world where I played, she could never go back. She’d always know now that she got off on pain, and that was a complicated thing. In the moment, she felt excited and aroused. But how would she feel when she reflected on it? Would she feel good about herself? About me and the sick, twisted, aggressive shit I liked to do to her?
No, I shouldn’t have done it. Regret flooded me, propelling me up and out the door. I hated myself as I wrote her that lame note. I almost wanted her to wake up as I left it beside her on her pillow. I hated the thought of her waking up and finding it, her heart sinking, hardening as she cursed me. But she didn’t wake up. She kept sleeping so soundly, well fucked and passed out.
I barely slept that night. I went for a long walk, then sat out on the rocks watching the waves. I probably shouldn’t be alone, my thoughts were turning so dark. But I couldn’t stand to be with anyone just then. The thought of being at a loud, crowded party with a bunch of drunk people? Sounded like the last thing I wanted to do. And somehow I knew, even surrounded by noisy distractions, it wouldn’t take my mind off of Sophie.
Now I was good and fucked. It was more clear than ever that I needed to stay away from her. And I was just as certain that she’d gotten into my bloodstream for the rest of my life. I’d never forget her. But I wouldn’t let myself be with her.
Maybe I would move out with Jax. My mom was doing all right. It had been over two years since my father passed. She had a steady job, her friends, a big support network. Plus she seemed happier now than I’d ever seen her. Maybe it was time for me to leave. I pictured that girl Katrina he’d tried to set me up with. That was the kind of girl I should be with, someone who knew exactly what I was all about from the get go. I wouldn’t have to worry about hurting her; she wouldn’t hurt me. We’d play and that would be that.
The sun rose. I showered and showed up for work a half hour early, letting a guy go home to his family. He had kids he could say good morning to when they woke up. Better him than me off duty.
The day crawled by. We responded to a medical emergency down the island, a man having a heart attack. A couple of tourists called us to help with a backyard barbeque gone awry, but by the time we got there they’d put everything out.
I would have preferred a busy day. I napped. I worked out. But I kept thinking about Sophie. My phone was silent the whole day. She knew I was working, but still. She could text me.
It didn’t make sense that I wanted to see my phone light up with her name. I should be hoping for radio silence. It would make it easier to disengage. But I still felt like gum that had been scraped off the bottom of a shoe.
We were sitting around playing cards around eleven at night when the alarm went off. This sounded like the real deal. Down at the yacht club, some idiot had started a big one. Some of these rich people thought they were invincible. Money didn’t make you any less mortal.
We arrived and I could tell it was big when I saw the coast guard, EMTs and police there, too. For Naugatuck, that meant shit was going down. We cleared out onlookers as best we could, having them stand back as we located the blaze in one of the mega yachts in the harbor. The thing was enormous, bigger than our fire station, and black smoke was billowing out of its windows, flames licking out the sides. Partygoers streamed out onto the dock, disoriented, coughing, vomiting with smoke inhalation. Who knew how many people were still inside?
It wasn’t until I stepped foot in the yacht that it occurred to me—Sophie could be there. These people were around our age. She knew people in this social circle, the country club, private school jet-setters. What if she’d decided to go out with them tonight? I might have pissed her off enough that she’d decided to do exactly that.
Charged with adrenaline, I forged ahead into the black smoke, pulling people toward the entrance as best I could. I wore a mask so I could breathe, but nothing could help me see well in a scene like that. There was no telling how much time we had. I’d seen a lot of fires, but the more I saw the more I understood how unpredictable any blaze could be. Just when you thought you’d turned a corner, the wind could pick up, or the flames could lick their way past something combustible and the whole thing could gain a new life.
In a situation like we had on our hands, the worst outcome would be the flames hitting the fuel tank. A yacht of that size had to be carrying literally hundreds of gallons. The fire codes for boats were strict because of it, but if the flames got big and hot enough, no fire-retardant materials could stop them.
Other guys were working on dousing the flames. Another guy in my department, Tim, and I fixed on rescue. Panic had clearly set in, with guests pushing and fighting their way to the exits. Most had already gotten out, but the floor was littered with shoes, purses and jackets. Through the smoke I could see that a few stragglers remained in various states of disorientation or consciousness. Tim and I hoisted up the first person found, locking our hands under his armpits and ankles and carrying him as carefully as we could toward the entrance where two other members of our department waited to assist. I found another woman huddled in the corner, conscious but in shock. She started kicking and screaming, but Tim and I managed to pick her up and get her to the exit crew.
We needed to get down into the belly of the beast before it was too late. Of course I didn’t know yet what had started the blaze, but I could tell the source was down below. If anyone was badly injured, that was where I was likely to find them. I motioned to Tim and he nodded, agreeing that was where we needed to head.
Venturing down the stairs, the heat grew worse, the smoke thicker. Trained as I was for situations such as these, it still took effort to tamp down the natural human instinct for self-preservation. Everything about the context kicked my instinct into flight. But that wasn’t what firefighters did. They stayed and fought.
The smoke was so thick, the temperature in the room so hot, I knew we didn’t have much time. But neither did any survivors still trapped down there, and they weren’t wearing any protective gear. I stumbled through the murky haze, lurching through, searching the perimeters with Tim following behind me. It went slower than I would have liked, but it always did if you were trying to be thorough.
So far we hadn’t found anyone, nor had we seen any evidence of structural collapse, the type of failure that could trap people. But we still had to look. Someone might have gotten trampled, or hurt themselves in a panicked fall. And I was starting to have a sinking feeling that I might know that someone, because I had a hunch whose yacht it was. His name had come up just yesterday as the man Sophie should be with after all. What if it was Theo’s yacht? And what if she had decided to follow through on that advice and attend his party?
When I saw a glimpse of blonde hair through the smoke I almost thought I’d hallucinated, my worst nightmare come to life. I fought my way forward, stumbling over a table, and lying there on the floor I found a limp, nonresponsive body. No coughing, no choking, she lay face down. I didn’t need to see a face to know who it was. Adrenaline spiked through me as I scooped her up and flew with her up the stairs, moving so fast Tim didn’t even have a chance to help.
This one I didn’t pass off at the yacht’s exit. I carried her myself, running all the way to the ambulances waiting at the entrance to the dock. EMTs helped me lay her on a waiting stretcher, the team working fast to get an oxygen mask around her smoke-stained face and take her vitals.
Only when she was strapped in and getting loaded into the ambulance did I allow myself to take a full look at her face. Somehow I’d known the second I’d seen a glimpse of her hair, but I hadn’t wanted full confirmation until I had her with those who
could help. But now I could clearly see, it was definitely Sophie I’d found alone down near the heart of the blaze. And it didn’t look like she was breathing at all.
A paramedic leaned over her with a stethoscope to her chest, two fingers at her throat. I didn’t breathe at all, just stood there, stock still for what felt like an eternity. But finally he looked up at me and nodded. “Breathing. Erratic pulse. We have to get her in.”
“Thank God.” I wanted to rush in there with her, hold her hand, see to her care myself but I couldn’t leave, not in the middle of the worst fire we’d seen all season. There might be more trapped in there just as bad off as her or worse and I had to do my duty. But before I returned to the scene, I found an EMT I knew and made him promise me to call me the second he had any news on Sophie. I didn’t even have time to kiss her before they drove off with her, sirens blaring and lights flashing.
I took another minute to text my mother. She’d be asleep, but she’d know some people at the one hospital in town where she worked who weren’t.
* * *
Liam: Sophie Douglas is in the hospital. Can you get me news?
* * *
I knew I didn’t need to explain anything else. She’d remember Sophie, and she’d know someone on duty. I’d done all I could. Now I needed to help others.
The scene was a nightmare, with limping, crying partygoers looking like zombies with torn clothes and blackened and singed skin. In the middle of it all, Theo Bartright stood fighting with yacht club management.
“I demand to know who’s responsible! This is a mess!” He was yelling so loudly cords were standing out on his neck. Spittle was forming at the sides of his mouth.