Chapter 8 #2
They reached Haven’s apartment building, and out front, he counted several fire trucks and ambulances. There was also a sizable crowd. He and Vander parked and climbed off their bikes.
Rhys jogged over. He looked up and the damaged building made his mouth go dry. It was only six stories high, and the explosion had done a lot of damage.
“Rhys.” Vander was staying close, watching him carefully.
“The damage is centered on Haven’s apartment,” Rhys said woodenly.
Where the hell was she? He scanned around. Lots of bedraggled people, but no Haven.
“We’ll ask around,” Vander said.
Rhys nodded. “Vander, she’s mine.”
Vander’s lips quirked. “I know, bro. I’ve known for a while, even if you haven’t.”
His brother strode off toward the firefighters and police. Rhys circled through the crowd, searching for a pretty brunette with gorgeous blue eyes.
His panic turned from an itch to a burn. There was no sign of her. His gaze went back to her destroyed apartment.
Then Vander came back, his face grim. Saxon was with him.
“Hey.” Saxon’s body was tense and alert.
“Why is Saxon here?” Rhys asked.
“I called him before we left the office,” Vander said.
“Why?”
“In case you lose it.”
Rhys felt like the ground moved under his feet. “Tell me.”
“Rhys—”
“Tell me!” he barked.
Vander’s jaw tightened. “The explosion was in an empty apartment below Haven’s. It’s looking like a faulty gas line. The arson investigators aren’t done yet, but they think it was rigged.”
Rhys dragged in a breath. “Haven?”
“No sign of her. They haven’t recovered any bodies, yet. Four people went to the hospital. An old lady, a mother and toddler, and a boy who broke his leg evacuating.”
Rhys’ chin dropped to his chest. “They searched her apartment?”
Vander hesitated. “Not yet. The fire’s too intense, and it’s too dangerous.”
The news was like an arrow to his heart. “So, no one would have survived.”
“She might have gotten out,” Saxon said.
“Then where is she?” Rhys said.
Suddenly Gia pushed through the crowd, her face twisted with panic. “Where’s Haven?”
Vander turned. “Gia—”
Their sister froze, reading Vander’s tone. “No.” She shook her head. “Haven isn’t dead.”
Dead . The word reverberated in Rhys’ head.
He sat on a nearby brick retaining wall, and dropped his head to his hands. He’d pushed her away, said ugly things.
Images of Haven—smiling, sipping a glass of wine, laughing, avoiding him, crying his name as she came—cascaded through his head.
“Gia.” Saxon moved toward her.
“Don’t touch me, Saxon Buchanan.” She smacked him away. “ Find her. This can’t be a coincidence. Someone did this.”
Rhys squeezed his eyes closed. Now was not the time for the Saxon and Gia show.
Since they were teenagers, the pair fought like snarling cats.
They made oil and water look compatible.
Rhys had promised to keep Haven safe. Pain tore him apart and he rose.
Emotions swelled inside him like a tidal wave.
Vander and Saxon eyed him. Gia looked stricken. Her gaze met Rhys’ and she flinched.
Vander pulled her into his arms.
“I have to go.” Rhys swiveled.
“Rhys.” Vander’s voice was laced with warning.
Fuck . He was going to lose it.
“Saxon, follow him,” Vander ordered.
Rhys went straight to his bike. He had no idea what he was going to do, where he was going to go.
His cell rang and he yanked it out. “What?”
“Whoa, Norcross. It’s Hammon.”
“I’m busy.”
“Saw your girl. The classy one who was with you the other day. Thought you’d want to know. She’s in pajamas and no shoes, and wandering in the Tenderloin. She looks drunk or high, or something.”
Rhys went still. “What?” His hand clenched on his phone so hard that the plastic creaked. “Haven?”
“Yeah, and she’s not in a nice part of town.” He rattled off a street corner.
“I’m coming. Hammon, don’t let anyone touch her or I’ll kill you.”
Rhys looked at Saxon. “Informant saw Haven.”
“Go. Call us when you’ve got her.”
Rhys jumped on his bike and sped off. He ran a red light and ignored the speed limit. He roared down Van Ness Avenue, then turned again. A second later, he spotted her.
The weight that had been choking him lifted. She was sitting at the curb, staring at nothing. She had soot on her cheeks and her legs were bare.
Rhys pulled up beside her and leaped off the bike. “Haven!”
She blinked. “Rhys?”
“Yeah, baby. People are worried.” I was fucking destroyed.
Then she leaped up and ran at him.
He caught her and she burrowed into his chest.
“God, baby, I was so worried.” He held on tight.
“There was an explosion, smoke, fire.” Her voice hitched. “I got Mrs. Girard out.”
Of course, she hadn’t worried about herself, and had made a point of helping others.
Blankly, she pulled her phone out of her pocket. She blinked like she was surprised to see it. “I should have called.” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “But then I saw them.”
“Who?”
“Two guys in the crowd. They were looking for me.”
His arms tightened on her. “You’re safe now.”
She was shivering and he scooped her up into his arms. She pressed her face to his neck.
Rhys smelled coconuts and smoke. Then he spotted the blood smeared on the side of her head. “Haven, you’re bleeding.”
She made a sound and looked up. That’s when he realized her eyes weren’t fully focused.
“I think…something hit my head in the explosion.” She blinked. “Where are we?”
His heart clenched. She was probably concussed, and she’d been wandering around, out of it and hurt.
“Come on, I need to get you checked out.”
“Okay. I feel safe with you, Rhys.”
Her words were so quiet he barely heard them.
“Come on, baby.” He managed to get his phone out. “Vander, I found her. Can you meet me with an SUV?”
As Haven snuggled close into Rhys’ chest, he held on tight.