Chapter 235: Who Lit the Fire
Bale had just missed the two of them by the time he reached the restroom. He was about to turn around and search elsewhere when he heard Amyra’s scream. “Fire! Somebody help! Fire!”
Bale took off running toward the sound. Flames were already tearing through the carpet by the elevator; they’d climbed high enough to melt the decorations on the ceiling. Molten chunks kept falling, mixing with the fire below to form a wall of flame that sealed off the elevator entirely. Thick smoke poured inward. Amyra’s coughing echoed through it. “Yunice, what are you standing there for? Help me put it out! Hit the elevator button! Did the fire system cut the power?”
“Amyra! Amyra, you wench! I’m gonna burn to death! Yunice? Yunice?”
Amyra ran off and grabbed a fire extinguisher from the emergency shaft. By the time Bale arrived, others had joined in, blasting the flames with extinguishers. White smoke collided with the fire, battling for ground.
Once the blaze was finally under control, Bale charged into the elevator and swiftly pulled Amyra out. Amyra dropped to the floor, gasping for air, her smoke-choked brain taking a while to clear. She looked around—and suddenly realized Yunice was still inside. She cried out, “Yunice’s still in there!”
“It’s fine, it’s fine; the fire’s out…” Bale shielded Amyra in his arms and looked back toward the elevator. But if the fire was out, why wasn’t Yunice coming out?
Yunice couldn’t move—though she desperately wanted to. She sat huddled in the farthest corner of the elevator car, her tear-filled eyes fixed on the smoke still swirling before her. The fire had scorched everything it touched into black. Even through the haze, Yunice could see clearly. She saw them enter. She saw Amyra get rescued. But no one saved her. No one saved her. No one saved her….
Fine, then I’ll walk out myself.
She tried to move, to stand, but her fingers wouldn’t respond. Her body was locked up like a rusted machine—creaking and grinding, but refusing to act. Tears streamed down her cheeks, though her jaw clenched tightly. She grabbed at the elevator wall, trying to push herself up; the effort made the veins at her temple bulge. It was no use. Willpower couldn’t overpower paralysis. A whimper escaped her lips. Yunice bit down hard—she didn’t want to cry out loud.
There had been harder moments. More painful ones. And she’d never cried then….
Suddenly, the elevator dipped. A tall figure rushed in, broad shoulders cutting off her view. Wyatt caught Yunice just as her legs gave out. Her arms landed stiffly around his shoulders, her full weight collapsing into him. She couldn’t hold it in anymore. Her emotions tore through her, and she barely noticed the world shifting around her. The memory of Owen saving Elsie but not her had etched itself so deeply into her mind; it played on repeat, over and over. The heat, gosh, the fire had burned.
Wyatt thought she was just terrified. He tried to pull her back to make her open her eyes, but the more he tried, the tighter she clung to him.
“Yunice?” His voice sharpened in frustration.
Wyatt grunted. Yunice had bitten him. His instinct kicked in—he tried to shove her off. And he did. But the second she went flying toward the elevator wall, he snapped out of it and yanked her back before she could hit.
Bale ran in just in time to see a trembling Yunice and Wyatt’s arm dripping with blood. Wyatt glared at him, then hoisted Yunice up and carried her out of the elevator.
Bale’s stomach twisted. He knew Wyatt was blaming him for not rescuing Yunice. But… hadn’t it made sense to save his own girlfriend first?
Wyatt kicked open the door to a suite and dragged Yunice into the bathroom. He turned on the shower; icy water poured from overhead, catching Yunice completely off guard. The cold doused the heat still clinging to her skin and began to calm her fraying nerves. Standing under the stream, Yunice tilted her head up and opened her eyes to the showerhead.
2:27 PM
Chapter 235: Who Lit the Fire
Wyatt reached out, grabbed her chin, and forced her mouth open. “Breathe!”
Yunice gasped. Her glassy eyes finally focused on Wyatt. They were both under the spray now—both soaked. Wyatt’s hands rested on her shoulder, eyes locked tightly on hers. Her breathing slowed. The tension eased. Looking into his gaze, still smoldering with anger, she rose up on her toes and hooked her arms around his neck.
“Hold me,” she whispered.
Wyatt froze. And then Yunice kissed him, eyes shut, greedy for every inch of him. Wyatt’s pupils widened in surprise—shocked at her sudden boldness, and at the fact that, somehow, he was the one being swept along.