Unforgettable (30 page)

Patrick decided to call Liam in the morning and ask him to hire a bodyguard for her. He wasn’t sure how she’d feel about it but he wasn’t taking any chances. Until the bodyguard arrived, he’d be beside her at all times.

When it grew too cold to stay outside any longer, he tucked her under his arm and drew her inside. He built a fire while Breezy poured wine into their glasses and put on her favorite CD. The soft music and wine, along with the knowledge that it was snowing outside, lent a magical air to the end of a perfect evening.

They snuggled up on the sofa, exchanging soft kisses that became increasingly more heated. It wasn’t long before the romantic scene they’d created became so impassioned Patrick carried her upstairs to finish what they’d started earlier in the evening.

***

Patrick wasn’t sure what had startled him from such a sound sleep but something had jerked him awake. He listened intently, eyes roaming the nearly dark room. All was quiet so it must’ve been just a dream, although he couldn’t remember it.

The moonlight streaming in from the bedroom window fell across Breezy’s face and shoulders. God, she was beautiful. The moonlight and her peaceful expression gave her an ethereal look, reminding him of part of a poem he’d had to learn in college. Gazing down at her lovely face, the words drifted through his mind:

“An Angel face: - it’s sunny wealth of hair

In radiant ripples bathe the graceful throat and dimpled shoulders;

Round the rosy curve of the sweet mouth a smile seemed wandering ever;

While in the depths of azure fire that gleamed beneath drooping lashes, slept a world of eloquent meaning, passionate yet pure -

Dreamy - Subdued - but oh, how beautiful!”

That was his angel. Who’d written such an extraordinary verse to describe this moment in time? Patrick searched his memory for the author’s name. Of course! It was the master himself, Edgar Allen Poe. Strange how someone who’d lived so long ago could have put into words so accurately the way his love looked while sleeping beside him over a century later.

There it was again! An unfamiliar sound had woken him, after all. It hadn’t been a dream!

His attention pulled away from Breezy as he listened intently. Something hollow and metal seemed to be clanging together. Maybe it was just a cat getting into the trash cans outside. Remembering the blue Nissan and the creepy phone calls she’d told him about earlier, he decided he’d better check anyway, just to make sure.

Patrick quietly slid out of bed and stepped into his trousers. Being careful not to wake Breezy, he slipped out of the room and closed the door silently behind him.

Halfway down the stairwell, a stench assaulted his nostrils and he knew instantly what it was…

Smoke!!

Chapter 16 “A Fire in the Night”

Christ! The fireplace!!!

Patrick ran down the stairs and into the living room. He quickly checked the fireplace but the fire was out and what remained of the logs was cold.

He turned around the room wondering where the smell was coming from, searching for any signs of a fire. The smell was overpowering now and he was starting to cough. That was when he saw flickering light through the living room curtains. The porch railing and corner beams were ablaze!

Patrick rushed to the front door, quickly checking the doorknob for heat, and yanked the door open. The entire roof of the porch and side of the house were engulfed in flames! Smoke billowed into the house, filling the room, as well as his lungs. Burying his nose and mouth in the crook of his right arm, Patrick slammed the door shut and ran.

“BREEZY!”
he shouted as he stormed up the dark stairwell.
“BREEZY!”

The house was quickly filling up with smoke even here at the top of the stairs. Fear for her safety overwhelmed him and his heart pounded in his chest.

“BREEZY!”

Her name echoed the scream building from the depths of his very soul.

“BREEZY, GET UP!”
he roared, bursting through the bedroom door and turning on the lights.

He started grabbing clothes from her dresser. Breezy was sitting up in bed, still half asleep, yawning and shielding her eyes from the blinding overhead light.

“Whassabigidea?”
she mumbled, stringing all of her words together.

Without looking at her, Patrick threw a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt her way as he turned to dig in her closet for shoes. Thank God, the woman was organized and he found something she could slip on quickly. At least she wouldn’t have to go outside naked and barefoot.

“The house is on fire, angel! Get dressed…we have to get out of here, right now!” he shouted.

“WHAT?”
she yelped. That got through to her finally and she began dressing quickly.

“Faster, angel! Hurry!” he urged.

Grabbing his shoes from the floor, Patrick yanked a blanket off the bed, ran into the bathroom and tossed it into the tub. He turned the cold tap on full blast to soak it as quickly as possible, pushing his feet into his shoes while his legs bounced impatiently.

“Patrick, what are you doing?” she asked, once she was dressed.

She got her answer when he rushed back into the bedroom and, without warning, threw the dripping blanket over her head and shoulders, wrapped his arm around her tightly and hustled her down the stairs.

The entire front porch was a raging inferno. There was no way they were getting out that way. The smoke throughout the house was thick and black now. They couldn’t see and could barely breathe or speak without coughing violently. Patrick shoved Breezy toward the sliding glass doors in the kitchen. He tried to open them, but the handle was so hot it burned his hand. The back porch was on fire, too, but not nearly as bad as the front. The worst of it was right by the door handle and the steps themselves.

Patrick picked up a kitchen chair and, after a few frantic attempts, smashed through the thick glass. He kicked at the jagged shards until it was safe enough for them to get through. The entire house was engulfed in flames by this time.
What if he hadn’t been here? What if he’d still been in New York? What if he hadn’t woken up when he had?
These thoughts roiled through Patrick’s mind, sending a chill down his spine in spite of the heat.
Just one more minute…just one and she would have died!

They hadn’t reached safety yet; the house could still collapse on top of them at any second. The only safe passage away from the raging inferno was to go over the side of the porch railing, with a good five foot drop to the ground from there. Patrick hoisted Breezy up into his arms and sat her on the railing, as far away from the fire as he could get.

“I’m going to jump first and, when I’m down, you jump to me, okay? I
will
catch you, I promise! Do you trust me? Will you do it?” he entreated, holding both her hands in his.

Breezy shook her head in response and then said, “I love you, Patrick.”

“Tell me that when we’re safe. And we
will
be safe, Breezy. I swear it! Promise me you’ll jump, baby,” he cried desperately.

She hadn’t spoken a word except to say she loved him. It was as like she was saying goodbye and that scared the shit out of him. There had already been so much devastation, heartbreak and pain in this one little life. The painful thought occurred to him that, if he left her side, she just might decide she wanted an end to all the pain.

He watched anxiously as Breezy looked back over her shoulder at her burning home.

“Promise me, Breezy! There’s no time left, baby. Say the words,” he pleaded, shaking her shoulders lightly as he spoke.

He knew she wouldn’t break a promise if he could just get her to make it.

“I need you, angel! Please!” he begged.

Slowly…ever so slowly, Breezy turned back to face him with a small, heartbroken smile. She blinked once as if saying goodbye in her heart, but to whom or what, he didn’t know.

“I promise, Patrick,” she whispered sadly, with a barely perceptible nod of her head.

He kissed her soot covered forehead and the back of her hand before jumping over the side of the railing. The drop was farther down than he thought and he landed hard, causing sharp pain to shoot up both legs. Pausing briefly to rub some feeling back into them with both hands, he scrambled to his feet and sighed in relief. Thank God, nothing was broken!

He turned to look up at Breezy and saw that she was watching him intently. He nodded once and she shrugged the wet blanket off of her shoulders as she prepared to jump. Before she could even shift her weight forward, a massive explosion blew her off the porch railing, straight on top of him. The impact sent them rolling several feet across Breezy’s backyard before they finally came to a stop.

What the fuck was that?
Patrick thought.

“Breezy? Breezy, are you okay?” he cried, turning his head to search for her.

He found her flat on her back just a foot away him, reaching weakly for his hand. From their prone positions, they could see that the house was fully engulfed in flames. It was now one massive fireball lighting up the cold dark night. He stood up and helped Breezy to her feet. Coughing and choking, they leaned heavily against each other as they stumbled their way around to the front yard. They didn’t stop until they’d limped across the street to a safe distance from the burning house.

Sirens wailed in the distance as Susan came rushing towards them, with Tom following right on her heels.

“Thank God, you’re safe!” she cried. “I saw the fire and called 911. What happened?” Susan asked shakily, hugging them tightly while Tom did his best to enclose them all in his strong arms.

“I don’t know. A strange noise woke me up so I went downstairs to check it out and saw the fire. I grabbed Breezy and we got the hell out of there,” Patrick told them.

He knew now what the source of the explosion was. Both his Jaguar and Breezy’s Mustang were in flames. The door to his Jaguar lay burning on Breezy’s front lawn. The gas tanks must have exploded simultaneously.

Breezy stood paralyzed, watching the fire destroy her only home. Her soot covered face was expressionless, her eyes were dry and her arms hung limp at her sides. She wasn’t aware of the cold or the commotion going on all around her. She wasn’t even aware of the firemen running back and forth in front of her yelling directions at each other. She wasn’t aware that people were asking her questions or that Susan and Patrick were answering for her. She was only aware that the home she’d lived in her whole life was burning to the ground right before her very eyes, taking with it everything she’d ever known, cared about, owned and struggled so hard to keep. It was gone, all of it, in a matter of seconds, and she had no idea why. She felt completely numb.

It wasn’t until she heard Mrs. Princeton’s voice that she snapped back to awareness of her surroundings.

“Breezy, dear! Are you all right, child? Are you hurt?” the elderly lady asked, her voice quavering.

“Mrs. Princeton! You shouldn’t be out here in the snow…you’ll catch your death of cold!” Breezy cried, amazed at seeing her there. She wasn’t sure whose car was parked at the curb, nor did she care. She opened the unlocked door and maneuvered Mrs. Princeton carefully into the passenger seat.

“I’m fine, child. Don’t make a fuss,” she insisted.

Mrs. Princeton was still in her nightgown and slippers. She hadn’t taken the time to put on a robe and it had still taken her several minutes to walk the short distance to Breezy’s house, which was less than half a block away. Patrick removed the down-filled jacket Tom had given him and put it around her frail shoulders.

It was then that Breezy noticed the coat she was wearing was one of Susan’s. She didn’t remember anyone giving it to her, nor did she remember putting it on.

Patrick saw that the old woman trembled as much from her advanced age as from the cold. He couldn’t believe she was 92 and had struggled down here through the snow all by herself, with the aid of a metal walker, just to check on Breezy.

“Thank you, young man. Your name is Patrick, right?” she inquired.

“Yes ma’am. We met a few weeks ago,” he replied, respectfully.

“Do an old woman a favor and fetch that nice Officer Carl over here for me, would you?” she instructed.

Once Patrick had gone to do her bidding, she turned her attention back to Breezy.

“I’m sorry about your home, child. I lost my first home to a fire when I was younger’n you. It was years ago, but I remember the devastation. I see it in your eyes, though I don’t spect it’s hit you yet,” she said, kindly.

Breezy was squatting down beside Mrs. Princeton, holding the old woman’s hand as much for her own comfort and support as for the old woman’s. She’d often thought that Mrs. Princeton could see straight through to a person’s soul and always knew just how they felt.

“Believe me, child. I know how you feel right now, but I may be able to help ease your mind a bit. You see, I know how this fire got started,” she announced with a fierce glint in her eyes.

“What?” Breezy, Tom and Susan all exclaimed at the same time.

“What happened, Mrs. Princeton? What did you see?” Breezy gasped in disbelief.

“Hold on, child. Here comes your young man with Officer Carl. I’ll tell you all at once ‘cause I’m too old to go round repeatin’ myself,” she chuckled, basking in their undivided attention.

“You wanted to see me, Mrs. Princeton?” Carl asked.

He was followed by another officer Breezy didn’t recognize.

“Yes. I know how this fire got started and you’re not going to like it,” the old lady snorted.

“Well, just start from the beginning and tell me what happened,” he prompted.

“I couldn’t sleep ‘cause my arthritis was painin’ me s’bad, so I got up and went to the kitchen to get a glass of water to take my pills with. You can see this child’s house clearly from my kitchen window and, when I looked up, I saw a young man come runnin’ outta Breezy’s yard like a bat outta hell. He jumped in a car, one of them little compact, foreign things from way back in the day that were so popular. That boy took off real quick, burnin’ rubber all the way.”