Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 36019 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 180(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36019 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 180(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
My backpack slammed against my side as I pushed harder, barely dodging another slab that fell from the wall. Screaming filled my ears, and I didn’t realize the sound was coming from me until I was inches from the stairwell door.
I dove, and the world around me exploded.
I hit the ground hard, banging my head. But that didn’t stop me from bracing against the rectangular frame while pain lanced through my shoulder. It was the safest place to be as chunks of concrete and steel crashed around me.
“Please, please, please,” I chanted, squeezing my eyes shut.
I thought about my dad and hoped he was truly watching over me so my mom wouldn’t get a call telling her I was gone.
When the worst of it passed, everything was dim. Dust filled the air, making it hard to breathe. It was so thick that I couldn’t see anything. Not that it mattered since there was nowhere for me to go.
My hand fumbled for my phone in my pocket, but it did me no good because the screen was too badly cracked to use it.
I wasn’t sure how long I was there, alone in the darkness and debris, before I finally heard sirens far above me.
I yelled until my throat was sore, but nobody came.
Drifting in and out of awareness, I finally heard a deep voice barking orders.
“Help!” I screamed as loudly as I could. “I’m over here! Please, help me!”
“Silence,” the man roared. “I think I heard her.”
“You did,” I squeaked, my voice giving out at the very worst time possible.
Refusing to give up, I tapped my broken phone against the doorframe, tears streaming down my cheeks. It seemed like hours later when broad hands cleared debris to my left as though it was nothing.
All I could see of my rescuer was that he was big and fierce.
He shouted something I couldn’t make out, and then his eyes locked on mine.
They were sharp. Fierce. Full of fury.
I wasn’t alone.
Relief washed over me so hard I almost sobbed.
Then everything went black.
3
WRECKER
Iwas halfway into the Chattanooga city limits when the blast lit up the sky. Fire bloomed in the distance—red and orange licking up into the purple and pink hues of the sunrise.
A minute later, I could see the garage—blown apart like a fucking matchbox. Concrete and steel skeletons shearing sideways. Sirens already screamed in the distance.
Fuck. I was too late.
My gut dropped.
There was no reason to believe that Peyton had been there when the building blew, but something inside me shouted to get there as fast as possible.
The sun had barely clawed its way above the skyline, but the air was already thick with smoke. The wreckage smoked heavily, and ash floated in lazy spirals through the morning light. Sirens wailed down side streets, and radio static cracked over handhelds. I pulled up slow, cutting the Harley’s engine.
Her car was here.
Around the corner from the garage, like it had every damn right to be there, parallel-parked tight and precise. There wasn’t a scratch on it, and the sight of the untouched vehicle made my stomach turn because that meant she’d still been inside when the building gave out.
“Fuck,” I growled under my breath, swinging off the bike.
My boots hit pavement hard as I stalked toward the barricade line, weaving between orange cones and yellow tape, and pushing past a huddle of EMTs who instinctively stepped aside. Bodie, the fire chief, spotted me, squinted against the smoke, and then let out a breath like he’d probably been holding it since the blast.
A police rookie stepped in front of me with his version of an authoritative expression.
“Sir, you can’t be here. Go back behind the barricade.”
I was about to tear the little shit a new one, but the chief jogged over and tapped the kid on the shoulder. “I wouldn’t piss off the demolition expert, boot. I suggest you get to know our allies so you don’t insult another one.”
The kid’s eyes went wide, then he nodded and scurried away.
“Wrecker,” Bodie greeted with a grim smile as he shook my hand. “Damn good timing.”
“Wish I’d beat the fucking fireworks,” I muttered, scanning the scene. “Garage go fast or slow?”
“Fast. Chain reaction. Whole west side collapsed within seconds.”
“And the girl?”
He looked surprised for a moment, then shook it off. He’d worked with me long enough to know I had other sources and often knew shit before they did.
He nodded grimly. “A witness across the street saw her go in before the blast. She hasn’t come out. Fire’s nearly extinguished. We were just about to start working our way in.”
“Don’t,” I snapped, cutting him a sharp look. “I’ll take it from here.”
“You want command?” he offered.
“You’re damn right I do.”
One of the reasons I liked working with Bodie was because we never had a pissing match over who was in charge. He handled the flames, but no one was better at entry and rescue efforts than me.