Page 13 of Biker Daddy's Girl
The residence hall. Emma. "Fuck." I gun my engine, barely pausing to shout instructions. "New shift, stay put. Don't let anyone get past you. Benji, call some of the other guys and send backup. I'm going to make sure everyone gets out okay."
I tear off into the night, adrenaline and worry mixing together to create a potent cocktail. Emma lives with a roommate, but that doesn't make me feel any better. The thought of her alone in the dark with the smoke rising makes my blood run cold. What if she's hurt? What if she's trapped?
My bike roars underneath me as I weave through traffic, ignoring any and all speed limits. A few minutes later, I'm pulling up outside the residence hall and a crowd of people are standing near the parking lot, watching the start of the blaze. I don't even stop, just kill the engine and run towards the building, shouldering past a few stragglers.
The fire isn't apparent from the outside of the building, but there's an eerie orange glow coming from the left side of the lowest floor, slowing climbing. Fire trucks are already on site, sirens echoing in the air as even more make their way to campus. Huge groups of students are outside in their pajamas and various other states of undress, and someone official-looking with a clipboard is taking names.
"Emma," I shout, looking around. "Has anyone seen Emma Lawson? Has she gotten out?"
A girl with her dark hair in a messy bun looks up at me, frowning. "You know Emma? She's not out yet. She's on the 8th floor, room 8-E."
I curse and whip out my phone, dialing Emma's number. Please pick up. She does, after only a few rings, but her voice is so small.
"Luke?"
"Emma, thank God. I’m here. Are you alright?" I barrel into the building, shouting over the sounds of the fire, the firemen, and the crowds of people.
"Luke, what are you doing here?" Her voice is faint, like she's not holding the phone to her mouth.
"Just tell me you're okay!" The smoke is getting thicker and there's no time to waste. I dodge the firemen trying to direct me outside and charge onwards, covering my mouth with the crook of my arm.
"I'm fine, but the sirens. Is there really a fire?" Her voice is small, terrified. "I'm hiding in my closet. I don't know why. I just panicked. Oh, should I run?"
A quick glance shows me that the fire department has the windows open, getting the blaze under control before it can spread to the higher floors. She's probably safe, but there's no way in hell I'm risking it.
"I'm coming." There's a fireman blocking my way now and I push him aside, too focused on getting to Emma. He yells after me, but I ignore him. I'm not leaving her up here alone.
I take the stairs two at a time and finally reach the eighth floor. I can hear the creaking of the building, the roar of the fire, and the shouts of the men below, but that isn't important. Finding Emma and getting her out is.
"Emma!" I bellow, shoving her door open. There's a little less smoke up here, and it's quiet. Empty.
"Luke!" A muffled reply comes from the end of the hall, and I dash towards it.
She's curled up in the corner of her closet, arms wrapped around her legs. Her eyes are wide and fearful, and she's trembling.
I crouch down and gather her into my arms. "Hey, I'm here now. Everything's going to be okay."
To my relief, she relaxes a little against my chest, fingers curling into my shirt. "Luke," she says again, this time with recognition. "Thank you. I'm sorry. I just froze and I couldn't think?—"
"It's okay," I reassure her. "We'll get you out of here."
I scoop her up and carry her towards the stairs, grabbing a discarded hoodie off her couch on the way. She buries her face into my shoulder, clinging to me tightly. A fierce surge of protectiveness wells up inside me as we descend the eight flights of stairs. By the time we reach the ground floor, the smoke has dissipated and the fire appears to be under control. There are still a few stragglers—other students who are either too drunk to notice what's happening or who were caught on the upper floors and couldn't find the stairs. I catch the eye of a fireman and nod towards Emma. At first, he looks pissed, but once he shines his headlamp over and sees the insignia on my jacket, his expression changes to resignation.
"Iron Guardians. I should have guessed." With a heavy sigh, he jerks his head towards the door, where the lights of the fire trucks are still illuminating the night. "Get her out of here."
Relief washes over me as we step out into the cool night air. Emma stirs in my arms, peering up at me.”We’re out?”
“Yes, baby girl. We’re out.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I realize how intimate they sound. And how natural. How right.
Instead of pulling away, however, Emma relaxes, letting out a breath that tickles my neck. "Thank you. You keep showing up at just the right time.”
"You're welcome." My hand rests on her head, keeping her tucked against me. "It's over, you're okay."
"I'm just glad you came." Her voice is soft, barely a whisper. "I know this was crazy, but I'm so glad you were here. But how did you know?”
I hesitate, wondering what to say. The truth is, the second I heard the alert go off, I knew I had to get to her. "I heard about the fire and came straight here. I had to make sure you were alright."
Her eyes widen, and for a moment she just stares at me, speechless. Then, she does something I don't expect. She leans closer and presses a kiss to my cheek.