Page 93 of Living with Fire

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Page 93 of Living with Fire

My phone vibrates in my pocket as I get into the passenger side of Brody’s truck. I pull it out, hoping to God it’s Savanna, but it isn’t. It’s the next best thing. Liam.

“Talk to me,” I say by way of greeting, grateful he’s got Bluetooth in his helmet.

“He’s got her. She screamed my name. They were in a blue Charger heading north on Crenshaw,” he says, and I can hear the bike whizzing through traffic. “When I came to that T in the road, I went left thinking they’re headed towards the interstate, but I can’t see them.”

“Fuck.” I pinch the bridge of my nose, squeezing my eyes shut as Brody puts the truck on the road. “Go right at the T,” I tell him.

If Liam went left, we’ll go right; divide and conquer.

“Fuck!” Liam shouts, echoing me, but more fervently. “Fuck!”

The sound of the bike has practically died, and my heart is pounding in my chest. I hear my own desperation as I yell into the phone. “What? What?”

“They were right ahead of me. I fucking saw them, and this fucking idiot cut me off. I missed the light,” he says angrily. “I can’t run this red. I’m at ninety-sixth.”

I slam my hand against the dash. It’s one of the busiest intersections in town, a spot we’re called to more often than we’d like to be for crashes.

“No,” I say even though I want to scream at him to keep going. “Don’t even think about it. You can’t help us find her if you’re dead.”

Just as Brody is about to take a right at the T, I flail a hand to the left. “Left! Left! They went left.”

I cringe as he navigates the truck left at the last second, causing a horn to blare behind us as he cuts someone off. This is exactly why I shouldn’t be driving.

The whir of the motorcycle is back, and I know Liam is through the light, doing his best to catch up. What neither of us has acknowledged is that once you’re through the lights where he was stopped, you’re on the interstate. If Vincent is driving a Charger, Liam may have his work cut out to catch up.

If anyone can do it, it’s him.

Brody hits me with a hand. “Where’s Liam?”

“The interstate,” I say automatically, then into the phone. “You’re on the interstate, right? Do you see them?”

“Not yet,” he answers, then falls silent again, hopefully to concentrate on the road.

I nod at Brody, and that’s when I clue in he’s on the phone with someone via the truck Bluetooth. I don’t recall him dialing, let alone talking, but the screen on the truck says he’s connected to 911.

Fuck. Of course.

I want to hit something for how stupid I feel right now. I’m a fucking firefighter and it didn’t even cross my mind to call the police. This isn’t how I normally operate, but I can’t seem to get my brain to make sense of anything except the fact that Vincent has Savanna, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

I’m fucking helpless. I promised her I would take care of her. That I wouldn’t let anything happen to her, and still this happened on my watch.

“There!” Liam yells into the phone. The sound shocks me, and I lean forward to look out the window like they’ll magically appear in front of me. “I got them. I got… no, no, no. Mother fucker!” There’s a frustrated growl and I can hear the bike slowing and then revving up again. “He cut over to the fourteen, but I’ve got him.”

“They’re on the fourteen,” I tell Brody and the operator still on the line. “They’re headed around the mountain. Someone needs to find them and get them pulled the fuck over.” My other line beeps and I glance at my phone, my heart lodging in my throat.

Savanna.

I don’t even tell Liam to hold on before I’m swiping right on “answer and merge call”. “Savanna? Where are you? Are you okay?”

I pause, listening intently. There’s the sound of a male voice that must belong to Vincent chattering in the background, but I can only make out every few words. It makes my blood boil, but it’s nothing compared to the sound of him suddenly screaming at Savanna.

There’s a fumbling sound, like something is rubbing over the mouthpiece, then a shriek, followed by the sound of the phone being dropped.

“Stop! Stop! I’m not doing anything! You’re hurting me!”

The sound of Savanna being more petrified than I’ve ever heard her dials me in. Everything comes into clear focus for me, and I grind my teeth together, my breath coming in harsh, heavy pants.

I might be helpless right now, but when I find this fucker, and I will, I’m going to commit murder.




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