Ripping a page right out of Bellamy’s untested playbook, tonight Eli was planning to drown his disappointment at the bottom of a bottle. His choice of tranquilizer was whiskey instead of tequila, except there was one problem with that decision—there wasn’t enough Jack Daniels made in Tennessee to fill the gaping, empty hole in his chest.
Still, he planned to give it his best shot, literally, as he grabbed a glass from a cabinet, plunked a few cubes of ice inside and doused them with liquid fire. He took the bottle with him into the living room and settled on the couch, fully intending to polish off the entire fucking thing. An alcohol-induced coma seemed like a nice way to forget, albeit temporarily.
Never again would he question or wonder why Fritz had behaved the way he had after Kai left Serenity. He totally got it now. Got the moroseness, the irritability and the urge to pound the shit out of something, be it person or bottle. Loving someone and watching them walk away hurt like a mother, and with every passing day, the ache grew deeper and more acute, sharp as a new blade.
At what point did it start to get better? Three months, six, a year?
Never?
He was starting to think that keeping in contact with Bellamy, even if it was only through texts and phone calls, was the wrong thing to do. Maybe if he gave that up too, he would eventually start to feel normal again. But what was normal now? He sure as shit didn’t want to go back to his old soulless lifestyle, screwing girls he had no interest in talking to, let alone ever seeing again.
Jesus Christ, he was pathetic.
Part of him wished he’d been selfish and asked her to stay. But no matter how much he loved her and didn’t want to see her go, he couldn’t bring himself to say the words. He couldn’t imagine having to face her every day knowing he’d asked her to give up something that meant so much to her. Sure, it might be okay at first, but after a while, she’d start to regret giving up the chance. Regret turned into cancers and ate you up from the inside out. She’d come to resent him, then possibly hate him, and he couldn’t stomach the thought of seeing all that beautiful light die in her eyes.
“Here’s to playing the lovesick martyr.” He toasted the empty room and polished off what remained in his glass.
He was pouring his second drink when his phone rang. Glancing at the display, he saw that it was Sage, not Bellamy, so he ignored it. No sooner had the ringing stopped than it started up again. If he ignored it a second time, Sage would be banging down the door in a few minutes, trying to talk Eli into going to Sam’s, where they’d have to pay for their liquor and Eli would wind up hurting some nice girl’s feelings because he didn’t want to flirt or dance or fuck.
On the last ring, Eli barked, “What?”
“You sober enough to drive?” Sage asked, but there was something in his tone that instantly cleared the building alcohol fog from Eli’s brain, a breathless urgency he could hear and sense through the line.
A sudden icy alertness washing over him, he sat up and put his fresh drink down. “Yeah, why?”
“Get over to Bellamy’s place right now.”
By the time Sage said “now”, Eli was at the back door stomping his feet into his boots and grabbing his keys. “Sage, what’s going on?”
“Her house is on fire. Try not to wreck on your way over. I’m almost there.” Sage hung up.
The news stopped him cold in his tracks, panic momentarily disrupting his ability to walk and think at the same time, before he forced his feet to start moving again. Running, actually, thoughts flooding back into his brain in random chaotic jolts.
Is she there?
The fireplace.
Did that goddamn squirrel chew through wiring?
Heart pine burns like kerosene.
Bellamy…
He barely registered opening his truck door, let alone most of the drive over, but the sight of Bellamy’s house fully engulfed in flames brought everything into razor-sharp clarity. His heart did something weird and painful inside his chest, as if it was being overinflated with a tire pump, getting ready to burst and shred him to pieces.
Please, God, don’t let her be inside that house.
Cars and trucks were parked along the sides of the highway, people stopped to watch a tragedy unfolding. They stood beside vehicles, hands covering mouths and hearts as the raging fire swallowed whole what Bellamy held so dear. Eli didn’t care about the house. Not really. All he cared about was where she was and if she was safe. That she was anywhere but here, trapped inside or watching it burn.
He plowed up the drive, the engine under the hood of his truck whining over the abuse, dust rising behind him in a dense, swirling cloud. Local fire trucks sat parked at a safe distance from the structure, lights flashing strobes of red and white across the field, mixing with the steady bright-orange glow from the flames. They rose so high they blocked out the trees, black smoke rolling up into the night sky to smother the stars.
Then he caught a flash of a silver vehicle, her work truck.
It felt as if his heart had finally burst and shattered every rib. But common sense told him that it wasn’t parked in its usual spot. Instead, it sat toward the back of the property, near the old shed, her little blue car parked next to it.
Odd.
When he parked beside Sage’s truck and scrambled out, he was stunned to see the firefighters were standing around with their hands shoved in their pockets or crossed over their chests, watching the fire burn like spectators, not doing a damn thing to douse the flames.
The heat from the blaze was so intense he could feel it on his skin, the acrid smell of burning wood assaulting his nose. The first fireman he reached was an ex-classmate, and the only reason he paused was because it was on his way to the back of the house.
“Jack, what the hell? Why aren’t y’all trying to put it out?”
Jack shrugged. “She told us not to waste a single drop of water, unless the field caught fire.”
Definitely something Bellamy would say. Hope bloomed inside him, brighter than the flames. “She?”
“The owner. Miss Haile.” Jack pointed in the general vicinity of the backyard.
Eli took off at a run again, not slowing until he caught sight of Sage standing under a magnolia tree well away from the burning house with his arm wrapped around Bellamy’s shoulders. Tears glistened on her cheeks, set aglow by the flames. Tiny rivers of gold streaking her perfect skin. Relief flooded through his veins in such a rush he almost grew lightheaded. She was alive and safe and back in Serenity.
Sage stepped aside and Eli swept her into his arms before she barely knew he was even there. He held her too tight and too long, but she didn’t utter a peep of protest. Her hands gripped his shirt at his waist then slid up his back as she buried her face in his neck.
“You scared fifty years off my lifespan, darlin’.”
“I’m really sorry.” Her voice was muffled by his shirt. “I lost my phone in the yard somewhere when I was moving stuff out. Besides, if I called first, you would’ve just tried talking me out of it.”
“Probably.” He drew back, hands roaming greedily over her body, reassuring himself that she was real before kissing her mouth hard enough to bruise. “Are you okay?”
“I am, now that you’re here. Except the whole town will probably think I’m certifiable after doing this.”
“Did you set your house on fire, Bellamy?”
She nodded slowly, then let go a shaky, watery laugh.
Unable and unwilling to loosen his hold, he pulled her close again, feeling just as shaky—a hangover from all the nerves. “Why’d you do it, honey?”
She sighed so deeply he felt her body move against his. “You know why.”
“Yeah, I guess I do.”
There was no way she was letting anyone get near that house with a bulldozer. If it was coming down, it had to be her hand behind the destruction.
“I agreed to sell the land to Mr. Treadway. We shook hands on it this afternoon when I got back to town, but he’s having the contract drawn up first thing Monday morning to make it official.”
“You sure about this? We could probably still find someone else to lease the dirt without much trouble.”
From the smile she gave him, Eli could tell she was finally at peace with the decision to part with the place. “I’m sure.”
He smiled back. “Well, okay then.”
Eli tucked himself against her back, wrapping his arms around her waist while they silently watched the flames gobble up her relic of a house. A tinderbox, really, made of materials sure to burn fast and hot. The second floor collapsed down onto the first, sending millions of sparks dancing up into the darkness. Gray ashes drifted off with the light breeze and the spectators lining the roadway began to dissipate, their apparent thirst for drama slaked.
Kai, Fritz, Ruby and Joe showed up, but they weren’t in a state of panic because Sage had called them beforehand and explained that Bellamy was fine. They were simply there to offer their support, like a close family should. After an hour or so, they all hugged Bellamy once more and left, along with Sage, leaving her and Eli alone. Only the firefighters remained to drown the embers once the fire burned itself out.
“You know, there was probably ten thousand dollars’ worth of heart pine flooring in there,” Eli mused next to her ear, a bit sad over the loss.
“Probably,” she said with a long sigh.
He chuckled. “You’re not the least bit sorry you burned it down, are you?”
“Nope. Well, I might’ve had a moment or two of panic once I actually saw flames. But I had to do it.”
“I’m proud of you, Bell.”
She turned in his arms, nodding toward the antique farm table leaning against the magnolia tree behind them, two of its legs broken off where they joined the top. He assumed the injury had been caused in her struggle to get the monstrous thing out of the house without help. The sum total of her material possessions sat next to it, her nearly nomadic existence distilled down to three cardboard boxes, a squatty filing cabinet and two suitcases. Her lumpy excuse for a bed hadn’t made the cut, thankfully.
“Think you can fix it?” she asked, referring to the table.
“I know I can fix it.”
“Think there might be room for it in your kitchen?”
“If I have to knock out a wall.” He’d tear the whole damn house down and rebuild if it meant making space for her and her huge, special table.
Her eyes caught his, bright and shiny in the dying light, as she placed a hand over his heart. “Think there might still be room for me too?”
“Darlin’, there will always be room for you.”
“I made a mistake, Eli. I turned my back on what had become the most important thing in my life—you. I put a job ahead of love and I was wrong to do that. I realized after I left that somewhere along the line, the dream had changed. I didn’t desire it anymore. I missed everything about Serenity—the people, the animals, Kai and Grace and the entire Carter family—but I missed you the most. I missed being near you and how you make me feel when I’m with you—safe and happy and loved. This is where I belong. Right here, in your arms, with you looking at me the way you are at this very moment. Can you forgive me?”
He kissed her sweet mouth, tender this time. Tender as his heart felt. “There’s nothing to forgive, Bell.”
Her hand came up to cup his cheek. “I love you, Eli, and I promise nothing will ever get in the way of that love again.”
“I love you too, honey.” He kissed her forehead. “So much. More than I ever thought it was possible to love someone.”
Arms wrapped tight around each other, they watched the fire die down to a smolder. The fire department drowned the last of the embers, leaving only the charred remains of what had once been a landmark of Bellamy’s life. Eli brushed a few stray tears from her cheeks before they found her phone in the grass and loaded her things into the back of his truck.
“We’ll come back tomorrow and pick up your vehicles,” he told her as he helped her into his pickup. She nodded, quiet as they followed the fire trucks out the gate.
Eli stopped at the end of her drive, one last thing on his mind he wanted to do before they left the old place behind. He grabbed a hammer from his toolbox, tackled the task then locked the gate for now. Once Bellamy signed over the deed to the land, they’d hand the keys to Wallace Treadway, but not until she put pen to paper.
He climbed back inside the truck and set the battered, rusty mailbox on the seat between them. From the way Bellamy smiled, you would’ve thought he’d handed her a box of tiny newborn fox kits. One day very soon, he’d hand her the reins to her very own horse, or any animal she desired. Whatever lit up those green eyes with joy, he would see that she got it if it cost him his last dime.
She lovingly traced the faded black letters down the side that spelled out “McCoy” before reaching for his hand and tugging him across the space for another lingering kiss that told him she was going to be just fine. That together they were going to be better than fine. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Ready?”
Their hands still linked together, Bellamy nodded. “Let’s go home.”
The End