The second Grayson saw the list, he recognized the address of his childhood home. Within minutes of that discovery, the three of us were in the car racing away from The Depot, where we’d spent the past twenty-four hours helping Blue scour video footage and scan documents in search of a clue as to where to find our girls.
She’s there.Theyare there. It’s the only thing that makes sense. This entire fucked up situation has come full circle, and you can bet your ass it’s going to end tonight. Bertram’s a dead man walking. We’re going to get our girls, and that sick fuck isn’t going to live to see the sunrise.
“You couldn’t have known.” The words come out harsher than I intend, but I genuinely mean the sentiment. “How could you have known the house you sold four years ago had worked its way back into your father’s hands?”
The how of it all is unknown, but we know enough to connect the dots.
Grayson makes a noise of disagreement but doesn’t voice his objections. Glancing his way, I suspect he’s unable to unclench his jaw long enough to get a word out. Instead of forcing him to talk, I push my foot down further on the accelerator. The engine roars in response, the car speeding up. We’re so far past the speed limit that the landscape is a blur out the side window.
As we round the bend, Logan’s sharp intake of breath makes me glance to the left. Smoke. Thick, black plumes billowing up into the night sky. My heart skips a beat, a cold dread settling in my stomach.
“No,” I breathe. Despite our dangerous speed, the car feels like it is moving in slow motion as my gaze takes in the landscape.
“Do you think that’s…” Logan’s voice trailed off, the fear in it palpable.
“Hurry,” is all Grayson says, his voice tight.
My foot is flat to the floor, my body urging us to go quicker, to move faster. The winding road feels endless as I fly into another bend. All the while, my focus keeps flicking back to the smoke, growing thicker and darker as we approach.
Finally, a set of open gates loom ahead. The back of the car fishtails, Grayson and Logan grappling for theoh-shithandle asI turn onto the driveway, gravel kicking up beneath us as we fly down it.
We crest a hill, and the sight before us makes my blood run cold. Flames lick up the side of the house, bright and fierce against the night. Once a picture of wealth and power, the elegant mansion is now a blazing inferno.
“Fucking hell,” Logan rasps, jaw slack as he leans between the two front seats. The flames are almost blinding against the dark backdrop, growing in size as we careen to a stop at the front of the house.
I slam the car to a stop, and we are out instantly. Panic floods my veins, an icy terror that scatters my thoughts as I scan the house’s exterior. Where are Riley and Aurora? Are they inside, or have they already gotten out?
Whirling, I scan our surroundings, but there’s no sign of anyone other than us.
“Riley!” I shout, my voice lost in the roar of the flames as I rush up the front steps. The heat is oppressive, the air thick with smoke.
“Riley! Aurora!” Logan’s voice joins mine, desperate and frantic, as the three of us race for the door.
Grayson is a step ahead of me. He grabs the door handle only to recoil in pain. “Fuck, it’s scorching hot!” he yells, clutching his hand.
“Shit!” I run a hand through my hair before stepping back and bringing my leg up. My foot connects with the door, but it doesn’t budge. Frantic, I kick out again and again with the same useless response.
“This isn’t working,” Logan snarls, before yanking on my arm and taking off along the side of the house.
I’m peeking through windows, growing increasingly concerned for Riley and Aurora’s welfare, when I hear it—ascream, piercing and filled with fear. My heart lurches. “Did you hear that?”
The others nod, and we sprint faster, desperation fueling our steps.
“There!” Grayson shouts as we round the side of the house. Aurora stands at a window, dressed in soot-stained pajamas and wrapped in a blanket. Tears stream down her face as she cries and calls for her mom.
“Aurora!” When she hears Logan calling her, she turns to face us. She sobs, her entire little body heaving with the effort. She’s dusted with soot, a tattered blanket wrapped around her.
“Lo!” She cries, pointing through a broken window with a trembling hand. “Mommy needs help!”
Logan doesn't hesitate to bundle her into his arms, holding her tight like he’s afraid to let her go as he mutters assurances. My focus is on the window as I peer inside. Smoke is thick in the room beyond, billowing out the broken window and making it impossible to discern anything. Grayson and I exchange a glance, fear and determination mirrored in our eyes.
Glass breaks beneath my boots as I approach the window and brace my hands on the sill before Grayson stops me. “You’re too big, dude. You’ll get stuck. I’ll go in, find Riley, and lift her out to you.”
He’s shoving me aside and climbing in before I can argue, and a moment later, all I can make out is his silhouette.
“Shit,” he curses from inside the room.
“What is it?” I bark.
