Chapter 16: Rescue and Escape from the Flames

The air in Jack Grayson's apartment on Elm Street was thick with smoke, the small fire in the metal trash can spitting embers as it devoured the papers he fed into it. Ava's flashlight clattered to the floor, its beam spinning wildly as she lunged for the stack of documents in Jack's hands, her heart pounding with the urgency of her sketch's warning. The list—names, dates, payments—was the Order of the Ivy's beating heart, and it was curling at the edges, seconds from being lost to the flames. Ryder moved in tandem, his crowbar arcing through the air toward Jack, a shadowed blur of intent against the flickering light.

Jack spun at the noise, his blonde hair glinting as he dropped the papers, his hand darting to his pocket. "Who the hell—" he snarled, but Ryder's crowbar slammed into his arm, cutting off his words with a sharp crack. The lighter Jack had pulled clattered to the floor, skittering under a chair, and he stumbled back, clutching his wrist, his smug facade cracking into fury.

Ava dove for the papers, her fingers brushing the heat as she snatched them from the fire's edge. The edges were singed, some lines blurred by ash, but the bulk of it—rows of names, cryptic numbers, dates—was intact. She shoved it into her bag, her pulse racing as she grabbed her flashlight, its beam catching Jack's glare as he lunged for her, his good hand outstretched. "You're dead," he spat, his voice low and venomous, but Ryder was faster, tackling him into the wall with a thud that rattled the room.

"Stay down," Ryder growled, pinning Jack's arms, his knee pressing into the frat leader's chest. Jack thrashed, his face contorted with rage, but Ryder's strength held, honed by years of grit and his father's lessons. Ava scrambled to her feet, her bag clutched tight, the list a heavy prize against her side. The fire in the trash can flared higher, licking at a stack of books nearby, the smoke thickening into a choking haze.

"We've got it," Ava said, her voice sharp over the crackle of flames. "Ryder, we need to go—now."

He nodded, releasing Jack with a shove that sent him sprawling, and grabbed the crowbar, his eyes scanning the room. The window they'd climbed through beckoned, its cracked frame a narrow escape from the growing inferno, but Jack's groan from the floor stopped them cold. He rolled to his knees, his hand fumbling under the chair for the lighter, his lips curling into a sneer. "You think you've won?" he rasped, flicking it open, the tiny flame flaring bright. "This place goes—with you in it."

Ava's stomach dropped, her sketch flashing in her mind—flames, a figure watching, now twisting into this moment. Jack tossed the lighter toward a pile of rags near the door, and it ignited with a whoosh, a wall of fire springing up between them and the hallway exit. The heat hit her like a slap, the smoke stinging her eyes as she stumbled back, Ryder's arm catching her before she fell.

"Window!" he shouted, pulling her toward the fire escape, the room a blur of orange and black. The blaze spread fast, licking at the walls, the cheap furniture catching like tinder, and Ava's lungs burned as she coughed, her flashlight beam wobbling through the haze. She reached the window first, shoving it wider, the cool night air a fleeting relief against her flushed skin. Ryder followed, his crowbar clattering onto the fire escape as he climbed out, turning to haul her through.

Jack's laughter cut through the roar, a manic edge to it as he staggered to his feet, silhouetted against the flames. "You're nothing," he yelled, his voice cracking. "IVY's bigger than you—bigger than this!" He lunged for the door, disappearing into the smoke, his figure swallowed by the fire he'd unleashed.

Ava's boots hit the rusted rungs of the fire escape, her hands slick with sweat as she descended, Ryder's steady grip on her arm guiding her down. The list pressed against her ribs, a victory snatched from the jaws of defeat, but the heat chased them, embers drifting through the open window above. She glanced up, the apartment now a glowing inferno, the flames licking at the frame, and her heart thudded with the realization—they'd made it, but barely.

They hit the alley floor, the gravel crunching underfoot, and Ava spun toward the street, her flashlight beam catching Lily and Matt as they rushed from their hiding spot behind the dumpster. Lily's face was pale, her eyes wide with panic, but she moved fast, Matt stumbling behind her, his flashlight shaking in his grip. "What happened?!" Lily cried, her voice hoarse as she reached them, her gaze darting to the burning building.

"Got the list," Ava said, patting her bag, her breath ragged. "Jack's in there—he tried to trap us. Fire's out of control."

Ryder scanned the street, his jaw tight as shouts echoed from the apartment—neighbors, maybe, or the Order's guards noticing the blaze. "Move," he said, his voice clipped. "Back to campus—security'll be distracted with the union. We've got a head start."

They ran, the four of them weaving through the mill district's narrow streets, the sirens from the union fire a distant wail blending with the growing clamor behind them. Ava's legs burned, her lungs aching from smoke, but the list in her bag fueled her, a tangible piece of the Order's undoing. Lily kept pace beside her, her strength returning with every step, a silent fury in her eyes that matched Ava's own. Matt lagged, his breath heaving, but Ryder's sharp glance kept him moving, a reluctant cog in their desperate machine.

The campus loomed ahead, its gothic spires silhouetted against the night, the quad still chaotic with flashing lights and milling students. Ava led them to Haverford Hall, its shadowed entrance a sanctuary as they slipped inside, the heavy door thudding shut behind them. They climbed the stairs to Room 312, their footsteps echoing in the empty hall, and Ava locked the door, her hands trembling as she leaned against it, the adrenaline finally crashing.

Lily sank onto her bed, her blanket pulled tight around her shoulders, her voice shaking but clear. "He was going to burn it all," she said, her eyes fixed on Ava. "Me, the ledgers, everything. You got him—right in the middle of it."

Ava pulled the list from her bag, its singed edges crumbling slightly as she spread it on the desk. Names leapt out—Jack Grayson, seniors from Delta Phi, a professor she recognized from art history—all tied to dates and sums, a ledger of corruption stretching back years. "This is it," she said, her voice steadying. "Proof—the Order's whole operation. Student info, blackmail, money—they've been running this place."

Ryder leaned over the desk, his finger tracing a line near the bottom—a payment to a trustee, dated last month. "Matt was right," he said, his tone grim. "Jack's dad's in on it—board's covering for them. My dad's buddy at the precinct—he'll know what to do with this."

Matt stood by the window, peering through the blinds, his voice low. "They'll come for us," he said, his hands fidgeting. "Jack got out—he'll tell them we've got it."

"Let them," Ryder said, straightening, his eyes fierce. "We've got the upper hand now—evidence they can't burn. We take this public, they're done."

Ava met his gaze, the memory of their kiss flaring briefly amidst the tension, a quiet strength binding them. She turned to Lily, her friend's face etched with exhaustion but alive with defiance. "You okay?" she asked, stepping closer, her hand resting on Lily's shoulder.

"Yeah," Lily said, managing a faint smile. "Thanks to you—both of you. I thought I'd never…" She trailed off, tears welling, and Ava pulled her into a hug, the relief overwhelming now that the fight had paused.

Ryder watched them, his smirk softening into something warmer, and Ava felt the room settle—a fleeting calm before the storm they'd unleash. She broke the hug, wiping her eyes, and turned to the list, its weight a promise and a weapon. "We did it," she said, her voice firm. "Saved you, got this—we're not stopping."

Lily nodded, her grip tightening on the blanket, and Matt shifted, his reluctance fading into a grudging resolve. Ryder stepped to Ava's side, his hand brushing hers, a silent pact in the touch. "Next move's ours," he said, his voice low and steady. "They wanted a clean slate—we'll give them a reckoning."

Outside, the sirens wailed, the union fire a distraction masking their escape, but in Room 312, Ava felt a surge of triumph—they'd rescued Lily, snatched the truth from the flames, and turned the Order's weapon against them. The fight wasn't over, but for now, they'd won.