Page 116 of Bombshell

“I’m not sure. I just do.” She holds up her stuffed bear. “Buddy Bear likes you. He thinks you’re brave.”

“I think you’re brave.” I clasp her upper arm. “This isn’t going to make sense to you,” I say in a thick voice, “but I love you, Ellie, and I’ve loved you your whole life.”

“It’s good to love people,” she says seriously. “Felix told me. He says love is what makes the world round. I love you, too, Mr. Ford.”

I wrap my arms around her, because she is every moment I ever wanted, all the love I ever craved, and in the end, that’s enough.

“It’s getting hot,” she whispers. “I hope they come soon.”

“I’m just glad I’m here with you,” I tell her, because I wouldn’t have this any other way. I’d still race into that burning house. I’d still walk through that locked door. The flames are so close that I can feel my skin starting to blister from the heat, and I spread myself as much as I can between the fire and her. It’s not much, but if it’s all I have to give, I’ll give it to her.

When my shirt catches fire, I release her and she screams just as the landing door bursts open and a gray-haired head emerges from the smoke.

Felix.

He rushes toward us, nearly tripping on Ginny who claws at him as he passes, and throws his jacket over me to smother the flame. “You forgot the door locks!”

But he always knows where his charges are.

“Get her out of here,” he says, pointing to Ellie. “I’ll get Ginny.”

I grab Ellie, my body running on pure adrenaline, and sprint down the stairs. Fire and smoke is everywhere. I pause long enough to yank Felix’s jacket over her, then I round my body into a protective shell and take a leap of faith. Sometimes, the only way out is through.

25

Adair

The atrium collapses and so does my heart, sucking the screams from my lungs. Malcolm won’t let me go. Even after we saw them on the roof. Even after Felix ran inside after them. His hold on me is firm and unrelenting. I don’t know why he cares. I’m not the one he chose to save. I never will be.

Fire licks up the sides of Windfall, blackening its white walls, dragging it into ash and ruin. Hell is reclaiming it. Soon there will be nothing left.

Nothing left but the diseased bones it leaves behind.

I was never going to escape it. How could I? That’s the price it demanded. My love. My freedom. My soul. Its appetite will never be satiated. It is as greedy as my father. But all things fade, especially powerful men and their fortunes.

Years ago, I swore to never tell a soul the truth. I swore on everything I had—and now the devil’s come to collect. Angus MacLaine might be gone, but I can’t help thinking he’s orchestrated all of this from whatever circle of hell he burns in. Nobody breaks a contract with him.

My knees give out first, and I crumple to the ground as another bit of the East Wing collapses. There’s no way to stop it. Nothing to do. Some days were diamonds but never again.

A shout goes up from a team of firefighters, and a moment later, one hustles out of the door carrying a small bundle. They rush it to the back of an ambulance and a spluttering, coughing Ellie emerges covered in black smudges from a jacket.

I push up on my palms and run to her, unable to stop myself from grabbing hold of her even as the medic presses an oxygen mask to her nose. The medic doesn’t stop me, she just works around me as I pepper her with kisses, grabbing her hands to inspect them, looking for signs of damage.

“I love you,” I whisper again and again while she clings to me.

It’s not everything. But it’s not nothing. I glance up to see Malcolm watching us with a strange expression before he turns sharply to the sound of more firefighters.

“Gurney!” one yells, and I can’t bring myself to look. I can’t bring myself to hope. It costs too much.

“Take this,” the medic instructs, gesturing to the mask, “and make sure she keeps it on.”

I cuddle Ellie against me and for a moment, it doesn’t matter that Windfall is burning or that people I love are inside or that nothing will ever be the same after tonight. He promised he would protect her. He kept that promise.

A gurney rushes toward the ambulance next to us, and I realize he’s kept more than promise. He promised he wouldn’t leave me again.

“We have to take them to the hospital,” the medic says, joining us. “You want to ride with her?”

“Yes, but can I…”