Chapter One

“LET. ME. GO.” Retired Navy SEAL Tanner Muldoon shrugged free of his coat to escape his best friend Brody’s hold. Flames shot through his ranch-style home’s roof. Sprinting around the side yard, he dodged when a window exploded, ignoring the glass shard sticking out of his forearm.

Lungs burning from rolling clouds of smoke, he braced his hands atop the backyard’s chain link fence, vaulting himself over. The instant both feet hit the ground, he ran again, pumping his arms and legs faster and harder.

Through the smoke, he eyed the deck Jenny had sweet-talked him into building off their master bedroom. The French doors were closed. Thank God, he didn’t see fire beyond them. He tried the knobs, only to find the deadbolt locked. Shit.

Turning sideways, slightly ducking, again and again he slammed his right shoulder against the seam between the doors until they splintered.

With a roar, he backed up, giving himself enough space to kick his way through.

Smoke poured from the house in billowing waves.

“Jenny!” He snatched a T-shirt from the back of a chair to hold over his mouth and nose.

He eyed the bed where his pregnant ex-wife was supposed to have been napping, but she wasn’t there. He saw the rocker he’d bought for her to use while nursing their baby. It was empty, too. Heart pounding to a painful degree, coughing, eyes stinging, he darted his gaze around the room, but didn’t see her. “Jenny!”

For an instant, the smoke cleared enough to see the open bathroom door.

Charging that direction, he ignored the ever-rising heat, flinching from mini-explosions, knowing the next crashing support beam could mean certain death.

“Jenny! Ohmygod.” In the bathroom, he found her lying motionless on the floor. “No, no, no…” he said with a low, anguished groan. For the baby, they were working things out—or, at least trying. Kneeling, he placed his middle and index fingers to the side of her carotid, checking her pulse. It was weak, but steady.

Relief shimmered through him.

But then his gaze skipped to the side of her head. Blood. So much blood.

The smoke thickened. He was out of time.

He had to get her out of here, then assess her damage later.

After scooping Jenny’s lifeless form into his arms, he rose, only to wobble from lack of oxygen. Still, he forged ahead, only to get more bad news.

At the open bathroom door, where there should have been a straight shot out the same route through which he’d entered, there was now only smoke. Years of fighting fires taught him once he entered that black cloud, he’d instantly lose his bearings—assuming he didn’t pass out first.

Time for Plan B.

He kicked the bathroom door shut.

Gingerly, he set Jenny in the tub.

There was a smallish window over the john. He’d open it, feed Jenny through, then follow.

From beyond the bedroom, the fire had grown into a growling monster, chewing its way closer. In his capacity as fire chief, when encountering a fire this hot, with this fast of a flashover, he would advise his men to stand down, only attacking it from a safe distance, ensuring no nearby structures were impacted. But this wasn’t any structure, but his home.

The smoke was thick enough in the bathroom that it became a struggle to even find the window.

Allowing the diffused sunlight to guide him, he unlatched the window’s center lock, then tried pulling up the frame, but it was stuck. Seriously? After repeated tries and it still wouldn’t budge, he grabbed the wooden-handled plunger from behind the toilet, standing back while ramming the handle into the glass.

It thankfully shattered.

For an instant, Tanner dragged fresh air into his lungs. But then his training kicked in long enough for him to remember a cardinal rule of fire—it needed oxygen, and he’d just given it the human equivalent of an energy drink.

Flames licked the underside of the bathroom door. How long until the wood ignited?

Working at a frantic pace, he used the plunger handle to punch out the remaining bigger sheets of glass, then scrape the rest from the sides.

Back at the tub, he again hefted Jenny into his arms, gritting his teeth, working his screaming muscles harder than they’d ever been worked before to force her limp frame through the tight space. Moving her with a serious head injury was ill-advised, but the alternative? Leaving her here to burn alive—not happening on his watch.

“Tanner! Get out of there!” From outside, Brody shouted at him. He and Colby stood behind three guys on his crew.

One of them snatched up Jenny, carrying her to what Tanner hoped was a safe distance.

Approaching sirens signaled more help was on the way.

With Jenny presumably cared for, Tanner stood on the john’s closed lid, planning to dive through the open space, but then the unthinkable happened when the adjacent wall shuddered. Moments later, the falling ceiling rained fire on his back…