Paws off the Boss by Casey Griffin (fb2 epub reader .TXT) 📕

the moment. He’d be safe back there. For now.

When she opened the door, she noticed another full gas can sitting on the corridor floor. Clearly, the arsonist had planned on dousing the back of the building too. She doubted he would have freed the dogs first.

Her hands clenched into fists. “That asshole.”

Shutting Colin safely in the back, Piper bolted across the room. The building’s fire alarm system would alert the authorities. She just hoped she could keep the flames at bay until the fire department arrived.

When she reached the extinguisher, she grabbed the metal hammer and smashed the glass. The canister was heavier than she expected, or maybe she was weaker. As she wrenched it out of the casing, it dropped to the floor.

Half-carrying it, half-dragging it over to the kitchen, she gasped as she reached the threshold. It was as though she stood at the mouth of a dragon.

Between coughs, she could barely catch her breath as the hot air rushed out. Her exposed skin prickled in the radiant heat. And she had a lot of exposed skin.

She squatted low to the floor where the air was clearer. Her metal belt buckle burned against her stomach. It was cooler below the thick cloud forming overhead, but the noxious mass was creeping lower and lower by the second. The crackling was so loud, so constant, like a thousand hands crumpling plastic wrap.

Piper crept as close to the kitchen as she could stand, aiming the extinguisher inside the dragon’s mouth. Fingers shaking, she yanked the pin, aimed, and fired.

The nozzle kicked back in her hand. She gripped it tighter as the white powder shot out. However, the second water showered on it from the ceiling, the chemical fell down in heavy clumps.

The small drizzle coming from the sprinklers wouldn’t be enough to douse the flames, considering the amount of accelerant the arsonist had splashed around the room. Maybe her extinguisher wouldn’t be enough either. But she had to try.

Cringing from the heat, she inched closer so she could reach the worst of the fire. She swept the hose back and forth at the base of the flames. They fought back like they were alive. Hungry.

The fire had grown fast, already consuming the cupboards, licking at the ceiling. Stray flares danced around the room, searching for new objects to alight. As she watched in frozen horror, flames engulfed the round vintage table, the chairs, the wall of greeting cards. Linoleum tiles curled on themselves.

A stack of romance novels on the shelf next to her ignited spontaneously. The gust of fresh flames forced her to stumble back a foot. She noticed an imprint of her melted boot sole where it had rested a second before.

The glass door on the microwave suddenly burst, the glass shattering. She screamed in surprise but held her ground. Tears streamed from her stinging eyes. She blinked through the pain and into the light, focusing on controlling the hose.

Piper hadn’t even tackled the second set of cabinets before the white mist spewing out of the extinguisher sputtered and died.

“No, no, no. Please, no.”

Staring at the job left before her, she shook the nozzle like it would come back to life. But it was no use. The canister felt considerably lighter. It was empty. Frustrated, she threw it aside. It hit the floor with a hollow clank.

Piper took a step back, and then another. She had two choices; she could spend the next precious few minutes grabbing another extinguisher and battling the fire or give up and try to get some of the dogs out of their enclosures and to safety. Some … but not all.

In the end, the dogs were her priority. It wasn’t the building that made this home for her, after all. They could always build a new one.

Just as she turned to leave, a jet stream of white powder shot past her and into the kitchen.

Jumping out of the way, she spun around to see Aiden ducked low, advancing on the flames with a new extinguisher.

For a mind-boggling second, Piper thought she was imagining the sight of him there. Or maybe she’d died, and he was an angel sent to pluck her up and take her to heaven.

Or, more realistically, hell.

Just to be sure, she reached out to touch him. He was solid. But still her angel.

“Are you okay?” he yelled over the alarm.

She didn’t quite know the answer to that, so she said, “I’m going to get the dogs out.” Her throat felt dry and scratchy as she spoke. She began coughing uncontrollably.

“Okay, bring back another extinguisher!” he called over his shoulder.

Piper wrenched open the door to the back, releasing a cacophony of barking, whining, howling, and a mixture of other noises, all saying the same thing. Danger! Danger!

She could barely see a thing after the fire’s intense light. Except for the few dim night-lights they kept on for the dogs and the flashing beacon above the exit sign, it was dark. Groping along the wall, she flicked on the lights.

“I’m coming!” she told them.

Barreling into the back, Piper nearly tripped over Colin. He was standing on the other side of the door, anxiously dancing from paw to paw.

“Colin, get back,” she urged. When he didn’t move, she repeated the command, her voice angrier than she’d ever sounded. There was no time for sweet talk. He was in danger.

As she pulled rank on him, his ears drooped even more than usual. Tail tucked between his legs, he scampered farther down the corridor.

The fire sprinklers were going off back there too. The air was clearer, and Piper could breathe easier—except for the shoe-print shaped pain in her chest. Away from the flames, her panic eased. She could think straight again.

Starting with the lower kennels, she opened them one by one. With deft fingers, she unlatched each of the doors and flicked them open. She didn’t wait to see if the dogs were brave enough to come out as she hurried toward the spare fire extinguisher in the back.

By instinct, the dogs knew to run in the other direction, toward the door to the backyard. A tidal wave of wet fur rushed past her legs and ankles, nearly taking her out. Only Colin remained by her side until she came to the end of the long hall.

She waded through the jostling bodies and opened the fire door. They immediately flooded outside, filling the small courtyard, yipping and howling in agitation.

Colin hesitated in the doorway, looking up at her with those sad puppy eyes. Why aren’t you coming?

“Get!” she yelled. “Go!”

With no time to waste, she prodded him out the door with her foot. Head lowered, he scampered outside with the others, a pathetic look of rejection on his narrow face.

It broke Piper’s heart, but she would worry about his sore feelings later. He was safe, and that was the important part. She shut the door so he wouldn’t follow her back inside.

A new extinguisher rested in a bracket by the door. She swiped it off the wall, ready for the weight this time. Using her shaking legs, she hoisted it up and cradled it as she ran to the front.

Aiden had already run out of suppressant. He met her halfway down the corridor. His eyes were red from the smoke and round with stress. He’d lost his suit jacket, and his white button-down shirt clung soaking-wet to his tense muscles. Using his sleeve, he wiped at the beads of sweat and water that rolled down his forehead and into his eyes.

She handed over the new extinguisher and automatically reached up to touch his hot cheek. “Are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” he said in a scratchy voice. “Get yourself out. I’ll see you outside.”

“I will. But I have to free the rest of them,” she said. “I won’t be long. I promise. Don’t wait.” She didn’t want to have to worry about him too.

A disapproving frown screwed up his face, but he didn’t waste time arguing. He wheeled back to the kitchen, calling over his shoulder, “Don’t take too long!”

He was about to disappear into the ominous glow on the other side of the door, back to fight the fire, to put his life in danger. Piper felt the wind escape her lungs like she’d been kicked in the chest again. Because it suddenly hit her just how much it would hurt if anything happened to him. If he walked through those doors and didn’t come back.

“Aiden!” she called. “Be careful.”

Halfway through the door, he paused and gave her a look that told her he understood everything she had just felt. It was only a brief look, but she hoped it was a reflection of her own feelings.

The door closed behind him, and he was gone. Piper knew the fresh tears stinging her eyes weren’t caused by the smoke.

Wiping them away, she unlatched the first top enclosure. The little terrier shivered in the corner from fear, his sprinkler-wetted fur plastered to his tiny body. She reached in and drew him out. Over and over, she did the same for the rest, setting each dog down on the floor. They immediately scampered off in the same direction as the others.

Finally, she freed the last of her furry friends and opened the door to the backyard again. Over the alarm sounding above her head, she could hear distant sirens wailing in the streets. They grew closer by the second.

She grabbed the last extinguisher and made for the front. Bumping the door with her butt, she hissed as the metal burned her exposed legs.

Stumbling into the reception area was like falling into the pits of hell. During her reprieve in the back, she’d forgotten about the