“Ember?” Gus’s small voice broke through my rage. My gaze snapped to his worried eyes peeking backward over the sofa where he sat cuddled next to someone else, someone I couldn’t bear to see me like this. Someone whose brown eyes were locked onto me and my insanity.

The smoke detector wailed, finally sensing the danger. At that moment, I seemed more hazardous than the fire. I reached around the flames and flipped on the faucet, using the spray attachment to drench the burned mess and wishing it would put out my rage as easily.

My heart raced, threatening to jump out of my chest, and my cheeks flamed as hot as the shirt I’d just destroyed.

Captain Wilson escorted the team out. “Don’t bother contacting the Rose’s. They’ve been warned. This family has signed no releases, and you are not authorized to use anything you heard or filmed here today.”

“June, I hope you’ll reconsider.” Uncle Mike put his hand on Mom’s shoulder.

“Not a chance, Mike.”

Whoa. Mom spoke up, a hint of her usual stubbornness I knew so well peeked out. What a relief.

“Please—”

Grams rose from her seat, her backbone stiff. “I believe my daughter-in-law asked you to leave, sir. Please don’t abuse her hospitality by making her ask twice.”

Uncle Mike shot one more pleading look at Mom. Her single, arched eyebrow said he wasn’t getting anywhere with her. I hadn’t lost her to the void if she could still fight back.

Before I could make more of an ass out of myself, I walked out the kitchen door and stood on the porch. The mountains rose up before me, consuming my vision, but all I could see were the flames I’d just doused. I leaned over the icy, wooden railing and let the chill seep in.

The door slid open on the track, and I cringed.

“Hey, you okay?” Josh’s voice washed over me, bringing a wave of comfort I didn’t need, didn’t want. He’d just watched me go completely freaking postal.

“I told you I had this. You didn’t need to come.”

He leaned back against the railing next to me. “It’s okay to lose it every once in a while.”

“Every once in a while is more like every day right about now, and I don’t want you seeing it.” I took a deep breath to stop any more stupidity from leaking out of my mouth. The freezing air burned in my lungs, but it felt good.

“I don’t mind.”

I gave up examining the grain of the railing and lifted my head to meet his dark, understanding gaze. “Don’t you get it? I mind, Josh! That’s why I told you to stay away, to give me space and time to sort this shit out!” Deep breath. I had to stop yelling or he’d really think I was a nutcase. Instead, I started laughing, only solidifying my insanity. “Man, I never used to yell, and now it’s all I do.”

He reached out and ran his hand down my back, and I hated how delicious it felt. I jerked away from the touch and didn’t miss the wounded look that crossed his eyes. “You can’t be here. You can’t see me like this, because if you do, it’s all I’ll think about when it comes to us. You can’t save me all the time.”

He crossed his arms in front of him, his breath visible in the freezing air. “For fuck’s sake, December! You’re carrying everyone in that damn house! Someone has to carry you. I can’t just watch you suffer and do nothing.”

“Stop watching! I told you not to come here! I told you to stay away, and you’re everywhere! You’re at hockey with Gus, and in my class, and you’re . . . you’re . . . just everywhere!” I couldn’t let him see this. I couldn’t be this weak, this insane. The man had watched me set a fire in my kitchen sink. Crap. Shit. Fuck.

“December.”

“Go.”

I didn’t have to tell him twice. He sighed, shook his head, and walked away. The only sound I heard from his retreat was the door sliding open and shut. I slumped against the railing, using the ice to cool my flushed cheeks.

The door slid open again, and I nearly screamed in frustration. “I asked him to come.” Gus laid his head on the railing, turning those trusting eyes on me.

“Why? How?”

“I have his phone number, duh.” He seemed so much older than he was. “Mom was mad. It’s better than sad, I know, but still. April called you, so I called Coach Walker. He told me I could whenever I wanted to.”

Well. Crap. I stood and took him into my arms. “Sorry I yelled, buddy. Things are just complicated right now.”

He burrowed into me. “Because Daddy’s gone? Or because Riley isn’t your boyfriend anymore?”

I kissed the top of his head. “Both, little man.”

“You hate the army that much?”

I squeezed him tighter. “No. I don’t hate the army. I just don’t want anyone I love in it anymore.” I couldn’t lose another person I loved.

“The fire was cool.”

Leave it to a seven-year-old to catch the basics. “Yeah, but don’t do that, okay? I gotta go back to school. I have a class later.”

He nodded. “Can you take me, too? I don’t want to be here. It’s sad here.”

Pain rushed through my chest, but no tears came. Maybe I was finally past the point of crying.

Twenty minutes later, I had Gus and April dropped off at school and was headed back to the apartment. I didn’t want to be the person I was at home. I didn’t want to feel responsible for everyone. I wanted to be selfish, to sleep until ten and skip class, to focus on the weekend party schedule instead of the pee-wee hockey schedule. Just being twenty would be nice.