Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Now.
“Please let me interview you really quickly about the town. About you and your cute puppy. Please.” Nixi fluttered her eyelashes, somehow making her look even younger and cuter.
He had no interest in cute…or so young. While he might be in his late twenties or even early thirties—who knew—he felt eons older. Knew it showed in his eyes. “No.”
Now she put out her bottom lip in a look that no doubt helped get her way with most people. “Come on. One of the requirements for the traveling challenge is to interview a local at each small town, which is something I usually do for my channel, anyway. So, please? I’ll even buy you a drink afterward.”
He’d hate himself later for asking. Just knew he would. “Challenge?”
“Yeah.” She hopped once, splashing up a bit of mud over her brown boots and the bottom of her faded jeans. “The Nowhere USA Challenge sponsored by Rusty Spoke Jerky? They listed twenty towns, tiny ones, where their jerky is found for creators to visit and explore. We have to spend at least a week in the town, but most people like to shoot footage over a couple of weeks, then we upload our content to our social media channels. At the end of June, a winner will be chosen. The pot is fifty thousand dollars.” Her eyes gleamed. “I already get paid for my content, but this would be a huge boost. So what do you say?”
Oh, fuck no. What in the world was a creator, anyway? How many of them would be descending upon his town? He had to get out of here.
The rain fizzled. Somewhat. He turned his body this time, facing that building across the street.
Silence overcame the downpour. Just inside his head.
Something—
Fire flashed and the front window of the storage building blew out in an explosion that tore through the spring day.
Amka.
The blast blew Amka away from the table and into the side wall. Pain slashed down her back as she fell to the floor. What had happened?
Her ears rang. Heat flashed against her face. The room wavered around her. Provisions clattered on the cement floor as smoke filled the air. She couldn’t see.
“Amka!” That voice. She knew that voice.
A rush of cool air swirled through the room. She blinked, on her side, fire coming for her. Flames licked from the front of the building through the middle, right toward the door. In every direction. Fast. Way too fast.
Smoke filled her lungs as the fire flowed toward her. She had to move. Why was everything fuzzy? She couldn’t think.
A form filled the doorway. Solid and strong. Male.
Christian?
He came through the flames and smoke with a rough grace. A burning slat of wood fell from the ceiling, bouncing off his shoulder. He reached her, ignoring the fire trying to swallow him. “Amka.” He crouched, soot already across his forehead as one strong hand cupped her face. “Are you hurt?”
His words came from very far away, his voice deep but too distant.
She swallowed and shook her head, trying to focus. “I’m okay.” Pain tore through her side, but she forced herself to sit.
More boards rained down around them. “There’s propane,” she coughed out, looking wildly toward the front window at the one cylinder beneath what had been a counter. She used it for her outside barbecue. The tank hissed and started to glow red. Propane vented like a demon exhaling gas. She had to get it out of there.
Pushing away from Christian, she started to crawl toward it. Embers burned her palms. She should take it outside.
Strong hands grabbed her hips and she was suddenly sailing through the air to impact a chest harder than rock. The air whooshed out of her lungs and she sucked in a breath, inhaling heated smoke.
She yelped, cradled against Christian as embers dropped onto her shoulders.
He huddled over her, protecting her from the burns, and turned to barrel through fire and smoke to the rain outside. Fast. Sure. Safe. She closed her eyes, coughing out smoke. “We have to get the propane,” she whispered.
“Too late,” he said grimly, tearing around the building toward the street. “Everyone run,” he bellowed. “Take cover.”
The few people on the sidewalks immediately launched into obedience, running away. No cars were driving their way. He kept moving, holding her tight, pounding down the muddy sidewalk to the other side of the tavern.
A blast boomed through the rain, and she looked up to see debris blowing into the sky, even above the tavern.
Then, the crackle of fire.
He lowered her to her feet as rain pummeled them both. The fire hissed loudly from the other side of the building, fighting the rain. “How badly are you hurt?”
She coughed several times. “Not bad.” Her throat was on fire. “Bruised my side, I think.” Her left arm felt odd. She looked down.