When He Desires: A Dark Mafia Romance (Fallen God Book 1)
When He Desires: Chapter 13

Sam and Rowan leave around eleven p.m., and I’m so exhausted that I don’t have enough energy to even begin to process that kiss. As soon as I finish clearing the table, I collapse on top of the bed. My head hits the pillow, and the next moment, I’m out.

In my dream, I’m sitting in a lush, green meadow, book in hand. Beside me is a basket of ripe cherries. They look so wonderfully sweet that I can’t help but pop one after another in my mouth until I finish them all.

My back hits the soft grass. Above me, the sky is a clear blue peppered with white doves that soar high above. I smile. It’s the perfect summer day.

“That dress looks good on you, Sunshine.”

It’s Rowan. He’s here, lying beside me. I turn on my side to face him and meet his hazel gaze.

“Everything looks good on you,” I tell him. “It’s not fair.”

He smiles. “What’s not fair is that you pulled away from me earlier. Didn’t you like how I kissed you?”

I bite down on my lip. A pleasant buzz spreads through my body. “I liked it. I more than liked it.”

He props himself up on his elbow and tangles his fingers through my hair. “Then give me that mouth again.”

My lips tingle with anticipation as he leans in, his handsome face coming closer and closer to mine. My eyes flutter closed.

Hold on. What’s that smell? It doesn’t belong here.

It’s sharp and acrid… Is something burning?

My eyes spring open. Rowan isn’t here anymore. Smoke pours into the meadow through the trees around me, so fast that it fills my nostrils before I can even get to my feet. My lungs seize. I cough and cough and cough, and then I’m awake and still coughing.

The meadow’s gone, and I’m in my bed. I blink at my darkened surroundings, and even though I can’t see the smoke, I can smell it.

Oh shit.

Adrenaline surges through my veins.

I spring out of bed, disoriented and head swimming.

Crap! I trip on my slipper and tumble to the ground, my knees banging against the carpeted floor.

What the hell is going on?

That’s when I see it. Wispy white smoke oozes in from under the door to the hallway.

Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.

My heart in my throat, I force myself to get up.

I put out the fire in the fireplace before I went to sleep. I’m sure I did.

Or did I? I was so tired. I’d been cooking all day. It looked like it was out when walked by it, but I didn’t check it thoroughly.

There’s a clattering sound, and someone swears in a low, rough tone.

What the hell? Cold sweat breaks out over my back. Is someone here?

What do I do? Oh God, I can’t think, and there’s more and more smoke coming in from under the door.

Intruder or not, I’ve got to put it out. There’s a fire extinguisher in the kitchen. That’s what I have to get. And then I need to call 911.

Plan formed, I pull on a pair of sweats, slide my feet into my slippers, grab my phone, and rush out the door.

The sight that greets me in the living room is the stuff of nightmares. Flames stretch from the fireplace, clawing up the wall beside it and licking hungrily toward the big bookshelf. Even from this far away, I can feel the intense, oppressive heat. A loud crack echoes through the room as a burning chair to the right of the fireplace collapses, sending a shower of sparks into the air.

“Blake!”

I whip my head around in the direction of the familiar voice. “Rowan?”

Somehow, he’s here, standing between the sofa and the front door. I don’t know how I didn’t see him as soon as I ran out of my bedroom. I pinch myself just to make sure this isn’t another dream.

Nope, it’s not.

He darts toward me and grabs my arm. There’s a hint of panic in his eyes, and it makes my own fear balloon inside me. “I saw the fire from my house. We need to get out of here.”

“Get out? No way. I’m not leaving until I put it out.”

Books, my beautiful books, are already catching fire, their spines curling and blackening.

“It’s spreading too fast. We—“

“I know it’s spreading fast, which is why I need to put it out!” I try to move toward the kitchen, but he doesn’t release my arm from his iron hold.

Frustration spikes through me. “Let me go, Rowan.”

“You can’t put it out. What do you have, a single fire extinguisher?”

“I don’t have time to chitchat! I have to get it from the kitchen. Let go of me!”

Another loud crack.

“We’re leaving,” he declares like it’s his decision to make.

I’m fighting him now, squirming in his grip. “Just let me deal with this.” A cough overtakes me. Through watery eyes, I can see the flames reach toward my favorite special edition of Pride and Prejudice—the one I used to read out loud to my mom.

I have to save it.

Energy rushes through me, and I buck so hard that I take Rowan by surprise. His hold on me slips. I make it halfway to the kitchen before strong arms pull me back by my waist.

“You’re going to get yourself killed,” he growls into my ear, and then my feet are no longer touching the ground.

“What the hell!” I screech.

He throws me over his shoulder like I’m a sack of potatoes and carries me out the front door.

My blood rushes through my ears. He can’t do this.

I pound against his back, furious. “Put me down! Rowan, I swear, I’ll murder you. Put. Me. Down!”

He does—on the dead lawn outside of his house—and then he straddles me. His weight pushes down on my hips. He weighs a freaking ton, and I can’t move an inch.

“What are you doing?!” I scream as I scratch at his chest.

He wraps one big palm around both of my wrists and presses them against my belly. “Keeping you alive while I call 9-1-1.”

My heart gallops inside my chest. I don’t think I’ve ever been this viciously angry with another person. “You have no right.”

He shushes me. Shushes me.

“I’m calling to report a fire at house number three on Landhorne Lane,” he says into his phone. “Please hurry, the fire’s spreading fast.”

I exhale harshly through my nose.

“No, we’re not inside anymore. Yes, a safe distance away from the house.” He turns the mic away from him. “No pets, right?”

“No pets,” I spit out.

He repeats my answer into the phone. “Okay. We’ll wait out here.” He ends the call, tosses the phone on the ground, and looks back down at me.

“I hate you.”

A muscle in his jaw ticks. “I know you’re mad, but staying inside would be stupid.”

I roll my head against the cold ground and look at my burning house. Dense smoke is seeping through the small opening I left in the living room window. I’m staring right at it when the glass on the window bursts.

I yelp. Rowan leans over me, shielding me with his body.

The anger leaks right out of me, replaced with despair. I’m not someone who cries often, but right now, all I want to do is wail. Tears start to prick inside my eyes. “Rowan, it’s going to get so bad before they come.” My voice has a tremble to it.

He sits up and presses a warm palm to my cheek. “I know, Sunshine. I’m sorry.”

For a second, everything stills. I stare at him. He stares at me. My senses zoom in on all the places we’re touching, on the strange intimacy of the moment, on the way he just carried me out of a burning building.

My lungs expand on a shaky breath. “Can you get off me? I can’t feel my legs.”

“Only if you promise you won’t make a run for it.”

“I promise.”

He climbs off me and helps me sit up.

Through the broken window, I see what can only be described as an inferno inside my living room. My house’s got wooden furniture. A wooden frame. And all my books.

How did this happen?

There’s only one explanation. I fell asleep with the fire still burning.

Idiot.

You’re such a fucking idiot.

The sound of a distant siren bleeds into the air.

“They’re almost here,” Rowan says. Something warm wraps around my shoulders. I glance down. It’s another dark hoodie.

“The other hoodie you gave me is still inside,” I mumble, like it matters.

“Don’t worry about it.” He sits down beside me.

“What if the fire spreads to your house?”

“I’m keeping an eye on it, but our houses are far enough that it’s unlikely to happen.”

That’s good, I suppose. Just about the only good thing about this situation.

Pulling up my legs, I press my forehead to my knees. “Tell me this is a nightmare. Tell me this is not real.”

A hand lands on my back and moves in circles. I don’t mind it. I need comfort the way I need air, even if I’m not the type to ever ask for it.

Somehow, Rowan just knows.

My hands curl into his hoodie. “This can’t be happening. The house… I just got an offer.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

I bite down on my lips to quiet the sob that wants to escape me. I won’t cry. I’m afraid what will happen if I start. What if I can’t stop, like I couldn’t last time? After I caught Brett cheating. The tears flowed and flowed like a river that had broken through a dam. You’re supposed to feel better after you cry, but I didn’t. I just felt drained.

The firefighters arrive in a cacophony of sirens.

I lift my forehead from my knees and look back at my house. The fire is raging through the living room. Sheer horror rushes through my veins. Will there be anything left after it’s out?

One of the firefighters jumps out of the vehicle, sizes up the scene, and barks a few orders to the other men. When he sees Rowan and me, he jogs over. “Is anyone inside the house?”

“No,” Rowan answers. “I got her out as soon as I smelled smoke.”

He points at Rowan’s house. “You’re her neighbor?”

“Yeah.”

“It shouldn’t spread, but I’d prefer if you stayed out here until we get it completely under control. Do you know what caused the fire?”

I swallow. “I must have left the fire still smoldering when I went to bed.”

Rowan looks at me, but I can’t meet his eyes. I feel so damn stupid.

The firefighters move with a sense of urgency. They unroll their hoses, creating snaking white paths across my lawn. Soon enough, water blasts from the nozzles, colliding with the flames and making steam hiss into the air.

“How did you smell it so quickly?” I ask.

“My window was open. I was still up, and I just had a gut feeling something was wrong.”

“Couldn’t sleep?”

“No.”

“How lucky,” I mumble. Although it’s hard to feel like luck is on my side as I watch my ticket out of Darkwater Hollow burn.

It takes the firefighters about a half hour to get it under control. The house is still standing when they’re done, so I guess that’s good, but the living room is ruined.

The paramedics arrive. They check Rowan and me for injuries and smoke inhalation and then tell us we can go inside his house. The sun is just starting to rise.

“I’ll make you some tea,” Rowan says as we pass through his front door.

“Okay. I just need a moment alone.”

He gives me a long, pitying look before he nods and walks down the hall.

The window by his front door faces the yard, and when I stop right in front of it, I get a view of my house.

I managed to hold onto hope even after my mom died. Even after Brett and I broke up. But now, as I stand and look at my smoldering house, I feel that hope waver.

What if I’m not meant to leave this town?

No, I can’t think that way.

I suck in a deep breath.

They say bad things come in threes, don’t they? My house burning down is number three.

I have to trust it can only get better from here.