Ignite Read online

  Ignite

  Emma Renshaw

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Epilogue

  Enjoy This Book?

  Acknowledgments

  Also By Emma Renshaw

  Connect With Emma

  About Emma Renshaw

  Ignite

  Copyright © 2020 by Emma Renshaw. All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Copy Editor: Stephanie Marshall Ward

  Proofreading: Julie Deaton, Janice Owens

  Cover Design: Hang Le

  Cover Photography: Wander Aguiar

  Cover Models: Travis and Elise

  Paperback Formatting: Stacey Blake, Champagne Designs

  Visit my website: www.emmarenshaw.com

  Created with Vellum

  For Uncle George. Your wisdom and light were always guideposts for me and made me the person I am today. I’m grateful that you were my uncle. I miss you and love you every day.

  And as always, for my husband. I can hear you laughing as I type this and it’s the greatest sound in the world. You make every day brighter than the last. I love you.

  Prologue

  Zoe

  I wasn’t going to half ass this. A just-graduated-from-high-school bonfire was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. I could’ve tossed a polaroid of me with the boy who took my virginity, told me he loved me, and then told the whole school about our sexcapade in the barn on the Warners’ property. I’d wanted to burn that picture so many times. Instead it was stuffed in a shoebox full of other tainted memories. Memories I was determined to leave behind when I left for school in the fall.

  I could’ve tossed my soccer jersey into the fire, because I was still rightfully pissed we’d lost the state championship. The last game I’d ever competitively play had been a loss, and that burned.

  I could’ve tossed the latest postcard from my parents, but I’d thrown that little gem into the recycling bin as soon as I’d received it. Just as I’d done with the others.

  I didn’t choose any of those things though. My one thing that was going into the fire was a bit bigger than expected. And heavier. A bead of sweat had rolled down my chest and between my breasts by the time I’d crossed the field to my friends, standing in front of the towering pile of blazing logs. When the senior guys had suggested a bonfire on the field, I hadn’t expected something this huge. I’d thought it would be a nice little campfire, but this was probably twelve feet tall, with flames licking along the stack of wood and shooting out through the gaping holes.

  “What the hell is that?” Allison asked. She was holding a red cup, probably filled with flat, lukewarm beer. I hoped college parties were better and had a more interesting supply of alcohol.

  I shuffled the frame from beneath my arm and held it up in front of me. It was a portrait of my family. I used the term family loosely. It was a portrait of me and the people who gave me life. I was seven in the picture and happy as could be. We’d lived in a modest house, and I’d thought we were happy. Turns out my parents were miserable. Miserable with work. Miserable with our modest home. Miserable with their lone daughter, who held them back.

  When they hit it rich, while I was in fifth grade, they drove me a few blocks to my aunt’s house, dropped me off, and started their journey around the world, where they promptly forgot they had a daughter waiting for them back home. They did leave behind the details of a new trust in my name, which I would have access to when I turned twenty-one. I’d vowed never to touch a penny of it though.

  The postcards had arrived frequently in the beginning, always signed with love. Then they dwindled from to every other week to once a month. And now I was lucky if I got two a year. I heard from my favorite boutique in Austin, Harper’s Avenue, more often than I heard from them. There wasn’t any mention of love on the postcards anymore. And they were addressed to “Z.” They couldn’t even be bothered to finish my name. I wasn’t worth the time it took for even two more letters. Two damn letters.

  Aunt Georgia and I cleaned out the old house after they left and brought most of the stuff to hers, sold it, or donated it. Georgia hung this portrait on the stairwell, I think to give me some sense of normalcy and a reminder of a happy family. In the beginning, I would sit on the stairs and tell them about my day.

  So this portrait had hung there since my parents left, and I passed it every morning and night when I went to my room. I would usually avoid looking at it, but not anymore. Tonight I’d taken it off the wall, and into the bonfire it would go.

  “Family portrait,” I said.

  Makenna snorted. She held up the small stuffed bear in her hand and shook it. “My choice pales in comparison.” The bear had seen better days. One eye was hanging from the socket, barely clinging on by the last stitch. The brown fur was matted in places and had fallen out in others. He’d been shuffled around Makenna’s room since we were seven. I wasn’t even sure why she still had the thing, besides the fact that she was a hopeless romantic. Though I admit it would be hard not to be a romantic with her family. Her parents were hopelessly in love and had the perfect family, complete with an actual white picket fence in front of their home.

  “When a life is as charmed as yours, it’s hard to find things to burn in the fire,” Macy said. I dropped the portrait to the ground, uncaring if the frame broke. My parents had caused me so much pain through the years, and they would never know that our only professional family portrait was going into the fire. Besides, a broken frame may burn more easily.

  I wrapped my arms around Makenna’s waist, kissed her cheek, and laid my head on her shoulder. She was one of my three best friends. In a small town, we’d all gone to school together since daycare, but these girls at my side were my everything. Them and Aunt Georgia.

  “Having a charmed life is a good thing. You’re smart and going to college on a full-ride scholarship. You’re gorgeous and have an about-to-be-a-professional-baseball-player boyfriend who worships the ground you walk on. Your family is the shit. I think it’s good you’re letting go of t
his bear.” I slid a finger down the bear’s dull fur.

  “And besides, Jimmy Gunderson did you wrong,” Macy shouted.

  “He did,” I agreed with a laugh. “But to be fair to him, he asked you to be his girlfriend, with this little bear, before the school day started, and by recess the other boys had told him that girls still have cooties. What’s a seven-year-old boy to do in a dilemma like that? Besides, I think you got the better end of the deal.”

  I turned Makenna, with my arms still wrapped around her, and pointed to the other side of the fire. Declan, her longtime boyfriend, was standing with his best friend, Gunner. They were leaving for the MLB draft tomorrow. It was the big news in town, and it was really weird that these two boys I’d known forever were about to go out in the world and make something of themselves. Tomorrow night would, hopefully, be the first of many times I’d see their faces on my living room TV.

  I wasn’t sure I could take these boys—who I’d seen picking their noses in kindergarten and going through teenage acne while their voices squeaked—playing a sport on national television seriously, but I was beyond proud of them.

  “Yeah, I did,” Makenna said dreamily as she gazed at her boyfriend. As if he’d felt her or heard her, his head whipped around and he met her gaze. He winked and put his hand against his chest.

  “Definitely the better end of the deal.” I turned Makenna toward where I’d seen Jimmy walking by a few minutes ago. He was in the throes of an argument with his girlfriend, Tammy.

  “You cheated on me again?” Her shrieks were heard across the entire field.

  “Yikes,” Makenna said as Tammy threw her full cup of beer into Jimmy’s face. I cringed but was unable to look away from the drama playing out in front of us.

  “Okay, let’s do this,” Allison said. I nodded. We formed a little semicircle in front of the fire. We’d been inseparable since we were toddlers. They were there when my parents left and, even more importantly, when I realized they weren’t coming home. We were there when Allison was in a car accident and broke both her legs. We were there when Macy had her heart broken for the first time. We were there when Makenna started her period in the middle of a school day, in seventh grade, while wearing white jeans. They’re who I’ve called about everything, from my first kiss to a bad haircut to making the varsity soccer team.

  In three months we’d be spreading out over the country to go to college, away from each other for the first time. I wasn’t ready to lose them. Tonight wasn’t about goodbye though. Tonight was a celebration of high school ending. We’d save the tearful goodbyes and promises for when the first of us left for college later that summer. None of us was ready to face that moment, but I knew these girls would be by my side for the rest of my life.

  “Let’s toast first,” I said. “To being my only friends I can count on for complete honesty.”

  “To late-night slumber parties no matter how old we get or how far we have to travel.”

  “To being there for all the big moments, small moments, and everything in between.”

  “To always answering when one of us calls.”

  “To us. Best friends forever,” I finished. We clinked our red plastic cups together and faced the fire again. My heart was twinging inside my chest. I wanted to say more and hug them fiercely, but we had all summer. I knew the tears would come, but tonight was for fun.

  “Go first, Makenna,” Allison said.

  Makenna stepped forward with the bear. When we’d heard others would be throwing things into the fire, we’d known we wanted to do it too, but in our own way. We were throwing in things from bad parts of our lives and wishing for them to never happen again.

  “Even if Declan and I don’t work out, I’ll never fall for the bad boy who only tells pretty lies.”

  We chuckled. Declan and Makenna would work out; I had no doubt we would be attending their wedding in the years to come. Makenna launched the bear into the fire and laughed when it bounced off a piece of wood and fell to the ground, the arm barely even singed.

  She went to grab it, but I stopped her. “Leave it. It’ll eventually burn.”

  She nodded and backed up, letting Allison go next. She pulled one of her bras from her back pocket. “To never feeling that I’m worthless because I have small boobs. And if a man doesn’t like my boobs, he can fuck right off.”

  We cheered as she launched it into the flames. It fell at the perfect spot, hooking on a branch and hanging as the flames engulfed it.

  Macy stepped forward with the heart-shaped locket her ex-boyfriend had given her. He was from the next town over, and none of us had known he was giving the same heart-shaped locket to a lot of other girls. “To never letting any guy make me feel small.”

  She tossed it in, and I lost track of it quickly. The bonfire creaked and branches snapped. It was my turn. I picked up the frame from the ground. It wasn’t huge, but it was big enough and pretty heavy due to the thick, ornate wooden frame. My eyes unexpectedly pricked with tears. “To never letting anyone make me feel like I don’t matter, and to making sure I never make anyone feel that way.”

  I threw it in and turned around with my arms raised in the air. The girls circled me, and we hugged each other tightly, jumping in a circle, laughing.

  Allison stopped and arched her neck back, looking at the fire behind her. “Do you hear that?”

  The bonfire snapped, and a burst of flames rushed out of the side. I scanned the bonfire. The branch underneath my family portrait snapped, and the entire side collapsed. It started falling and we screamed, trying to get out of the way, but the four of us were tangled together and fell to the ground. I groaned when my elbow smacked the hard dirt. Screams echoed around us. A foot landed on my back, knocking the air out of my lungs. I looked to my side to see Makenna staring back at me with fear in her eyes. Everything hurt and burned.

  I looked at Allison and Macy, on my other side, before I tried to get up to run. They looked back at me until someone stepped on my head. Everything went black as I felt the fire creeping closer across the brittle grass and logs.

  Ridge

  Trying to balance a tray of meatball subs and a tray of drinks, like a one-trick pony, wasn’t how I’d imagined my first day at the fire station. My imagination had been a little grander than that. I was closing in on the last few hours of my first twenty-four-hour shift, and it’d been a quiet day.

  Quiet but I was still dog tired. I’d scrubbed every surface of the house, cooked, and taken inventory of the equipment. I’d jumped at every chance to prove myself, to prove that even though I was the youngest member of the house, at nineteen, I would be a worthy member of the team.

  This was the job I’d prepared myself for since I was a kid. It was all I’d ever wanted, and I’d signed up for the fire academy as soon as I was of age and had the money to pay for it. Then there were months of being turned down because of my age. I sent applications to over a hundred houses throughout the state, getting rejection after rejection, until I got a call from the small-town Hawk Valley Fire Department. I accepted immediately, and now that I was here, I would do everything to keep it.

  Fetching food? I’m at your service. Making the rig shine? Hand me a toothbrush. Crawl up in a tree and save the old lady’s cat? Done and I’ll even muster up a smile.

  But there was still a small part of me that was waiting for that first emergency sound to go off.

  Chief Talbot and the other firefighters were sitting at a cheap folding table playing poker. The EMTs were resupplying their ambulance after their last callout. The fire truck hadn’t moved, but the ambulance definitely had. I mopped the galley and watched the seconds tick by on the clock. There were thirty minutes left of my first shift.

  I startled as the alarm I’d been waiting to hear blared. A code of long and short beeps rang through the house, and the dispatcher calmly relayed the call as men stepped into the waiting turnout gear next to the rig and loaded up within seconds.

  My heart was galloping in my
chest and I tried to control my breathing as we raced to my first scene. I tried playing it cool, but I’d been so nervous I hadn’t heard the dispatcher; I only knew it was time to spring into action. The rumbling engine drowned out any other noise in the truck. I was squashed between two men and stared out the window.

  I spotted the smoke above the trees, mixing with the clear, dark sky. The town hadn’t seen rain in months, and the dry ground and trees were the perfect mixture to start a small fire in a field, which would turn into a blazing inferno before we had hopes of getting it under control. I gritted my teeth, preparing myself for what we would find. As we neared the scene, the smoke was slowly getting darker and darker. The darker the smoke became the more out of control the fire would become.

  I’m not sure anything could’ve prepared me for my first fire on the job. I’d gone through training, I’d done ride-alongs at other firehouses, where I’d had to sit back on the action. I thought I was prepared, but I wasn’t.

  I wasn’t even remotely ready to see teenagers running from a collapsing bonfire, screaming, or bodies lying on the ground. I piled out of the truck with the rest of the men, and the smell of burning flesh smacked me in the face. It was overpowering, overwhelming, and fucking brutal.