13
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“Where’re you at?”
Lynx pushed up off the couch when Rhys’s panicked shriek sounded through the phone.
“Home. Why?”
“Reagan’s… The bar … it fucking exploded.”
“What?” The growl that came out of him was pretty damn close to inhuman as Lynx launched himself off the couch, his sleep-fogged brain working overtime to process the information.
Copenhagen shot up from his spot on the floor, his gaze steady on Lynx.
“Yeah. Fuck. How fast can you get here?” Rhys was breathing hard. “Wolfe insisted I call you. Amy’s hurt, Reagan’s…”
“Reagan’s what?” he yelled, snatching one boot as he tucked the phone against his ear. “Goddammit, Rhys!”
“She’s… Fuck.”
Lynx was tugging on his other boot as he headed toward the door, his blood pounding in his ears. “Come on, Cope. Let’s go!” Without bothering to lock the door — he never did — Lynx scaled the wooden porch and took off toward his truck at a dead run, phone still to his ear.
Cope jumped in ahead of him, shooting over to the passenger seat as Lynx hopped in, stabbing his key into the ignition.
When Rhys had been silent too long for his peace of mind, Lynx took a deep breath, tried to calm himself. “Where’s Reagan, Rhys? Is she okay?”
“I… I don’t know, man. She seems to be, but I don’t know. She said they were leavin’, but the doors were jammed up. And then the goddamn place exploded. Looks like someone shoved a metal pipe through the front door handles, making it nearly impossible to escape.”
Lynx tore out of the dirt drive and onto the main road into town, the back end of his truck fishtailing. His heart was jackhammering in his chest.
“Reagan blasted them with her shotgun, managed to weaken the wood enough… Fuck.”
Hell yeah. That was his girl.
“An ambulance is on the way,” Rhys continued, his words rushed. “Just get here.”
“On my way,” he said, his voice louder than he intended for it to be. “Five minutes, max.”
The phone disconnected, and Lynx automatically dialed his uncle’s number.
“This better be good,” the old man grumbled.
“Calvin? How fast can you get over to Reagan’s?”
His uncle groaned softly. “What’s wrong, boy?”
“Don’t know, but there’s been an explosion. Wolfe was there…” Lynx exhaled roughly. “Don’t know more than that. Can you get over there?”
When the man spoke again, he sounded completely coherent. “Grabbin’ my boots and I’m on my way.”
“Thanks.” Lynx didn’t know quite what he was thanking the man for, but he knew for a fact Calvin would be pissed if something happened to Wolfe and no one notified him.
With his due diligence done, Lynx tossed his phone onto the dashboard, then gripped the wheel with both hands and put his foot to the floor. “Hold on, Cope. It’s gonna be a wild ride, buddy.”
Lynx wasn’t sure he’d ever driven that fast. A couple of times he had to reach over and grab Copenhagen to keep him from being thrown into the backseat or the floorboard. By the time they made it to the bar — the fucking bar that was fully engulfed in flames — the place was in utter chaos. Cars and trucks lining the side of the road and the outer part of the parking lot, lights flashing from the emergency vehicles on site, people every-fucking-where.
“Stay,” he ordered Copenhagen, leaving the window down after parking on the side of the main road.
Lynx shot out of the truck and ran toward the ambulance, his eyes scanning anyone and everyone.
The instant he caught sight of Reagan, Lynx’s breath seized in his lungs. He stopped, skidding on the gravel and changing direction. She was sitting on the tailgate of Wolfe’s truck, the ambulance parked beside them.
“Reagan.” His voice was nothing more than gravel and dust.
Her wide eyes lifted to his face and he nearly fell to his knees. Somehow he kept himself upright, not stopping until he reached her.
“Lynx.” There were tears in her eyes, but it was clear she was holding them back.
His heart didn’t start beating again until he had her in his arms, her face pressed to his chest.
“God, girl,” he whispered, cradling the back of her head as carefully as he could. He didn’t know if she was hurt, or where, and he damn sure didn’t want to hurt her.
Unable to help himself, he pulled back, forcing her to look up at him momentarily. He scanned her face, noticing the soot smudged on one cheek. Other than that, he saw no signs of damage. Only when he was satisfied there were no injuries — none that were visible anyway — did he pull her back against him.
While he held her, Lynx glanced around, cataloging all the faces. He knew it wouldn’t matter. The bastard who had done this wasn’t sitting around waiting for them to catch him. If he had to guess, he was probably halfway to Houston by now.
“Hey, Reagan,” Rhys said softly when he approached.
Lynx met her brother’s eyes, ignoring the concerned look the man gave him.
When she didn’t pull back, Lynx didn’t let go.
“They wanna take you to the hospital,” Rhys said, talking to his sister. “Said you probably have a concussion. You need to be looked at.”
She shook her head, but the movement was shielded by Lynx’s body.
“No hospital,” she muttered. “I’m fine.”
Lynx met Rhys’s hardened gaze and held it. “I’ll take care of her.”
That didn’t seem to be what Rhys wanted to hear.
Sure, Lynx got it. His reputation preceded him, and he understood why Reagan’s brother would be worried. That didn’t mean he gave two shits. He wasn’t leaving Reagan, and if she didn’t want to go to the hospital, no one could make her.
“Damn hardheaded women,” Rhys grumbled.
Lynx glanced over to see Amy shaking her head, her eyes wide, her face as white as the bandage on her head. “I take it she ain’t goin’, either.”
“Nope. They said hers isn’t serious. Shallow wound on her scalp from a piece of glass, which bleeds like a bitch.”
They did. Lynx knew that for a fact.
“But she was unconscious,” Reagan said, pulling back slightly to look at her brother.
“Not from a head wound. They think she passed out from the shock.”
Considering all the woman had been through, Lynx could understand that.
Reagan seemed content with the answer because she pressed her face against Lynx’s chest once again.
“I’ll take Reagan home with me,” Lynx assured Rhys.
The man’s eyes narrowed.
“I’ve got two guest rooms, man. Not like I’m gonna throw her in my bed and never let her go.” Although he fucking liked that idea. Still, he wouldn’t do it. “You can stop by whenever you want and check on her.”
Rhys seemed to consider that for a moment before nodding. “I will stop by.”
Lynx grinned. “I know. I’ll even leave the door unlocked.”
“You do that,” Rhys stated, then slapped Lynx on the shoulder before walking over to the ambulance.
Leaning down, placing his mouth close to Reagan’s ear, he whispered, “You good with that? I’ll take you home if you want, but I ain’t leavin’ you alone, so don’t ask me to.”
Reagan’s arms tightened around him and that was all the answer Lynx needed.
For a brief second tonight, he’d thought his entire world had been shattered. Again.
It brought back memories of the night they’d gotten the call about his mother. She’d been on her way home from the hospital where she worked. Her car had skidded off the road and gone headfirst into a tree. They said she’d been going too fast for the corner, probably never saw it coming.
Yep, one woman in his life had been stolen far too soon. He wasn’t sure he could handle if Reagan was taken from him, too.
No fucking way was he going to let her out of his sight. Not yet.
Hell, maybe not ever.
Her bar was gone.
Completely burned to a crisp.
According to Rhys, the fire department said it appeared someone had rigged the above-ground propane gas tank behind the building to blow. However, they wouldn’t know for sure until the fire inspector got out there.
Her own gas tank. The one that supplied heat and hot water to the building had been used to blow up her livelihood and damn near kill her and two of her closest friends? Who the hell would do something like that?
Reagan clicked the seat belt into place and took a deep breath, watching the scene before her. It wasn’t as chaotic as it had been earlier, but there was still quite a bit going on. She probably should’ve stuck around, but when Lynx offered to take her back to his place, Reagan hadn’t been able to refuse.
“Give her some love, Cope,” Lynx urged the dog, his gaze briefly swinging toward her as he pulled out onto the main road.
When the dog’s big muzzle nudged her arm, Reagan reached over and gently petted him, leaning her head back against the seat. She was tired. Her body ached from the impact she’d made with the wall. And yes, the paramedic had finally given her a good once-over, telling her she should probably go to the hospital, but at the very least, someone needed to keep an eye on her through the night and not let her sleep for more than an hour or so at a time. Something about a possible concussion.
She was fine.
But her bar was gone.
Reagan sighed.
What she wanted to do was sleep for the next week. Then she wanted to wake up and go back in time to before today. Before she’d had breakfast with Lynx, before she’d known the pleasure he could offer her, and yes, before her entire world had been blown to bits.
“Did you call your mom?” Lynx asked.
“Yeah,” she said softly. “She told me to come stay over there.”
“You want me to take you there?”
“Nope.” She loved her mother, but they didn’t get along. Plus, her grandfather was nothing more than a burly old bear who enjoyed berating her every chance he got. She did not need to listen to either of them harp on her right now. “I’ll stop by there tomorrow.”
“Okay.”
He seemed content with that, but Reagan didn’t open her eyes to look at him. She couldn’t. Not right now. The second she’d seen him racing toward her, Reagan had nearly lost it. And when he wrapped her in his arms, she’d had to fight back the tears that had threatened.
After all she’d said to him that morning, Lynx had still come to check on her in the middle of the damn night. Not only that, but his father had called after Wolfe’s dad had informed him of what happened. Reagan had been shocked when Lynx handed her the phone. She had expected it to be her mother, surprised when the deep, raspy voice so much like Lynx’s had echoed through the phone.
“Reagan, honey? Are you okay?”
“Yes, sir,” she replied softly. “I’m okay.”
“Good. Lynx said the bar burned down.”
“Yes, sir, it did.”
“Well, I don’t want you worryin’ about that tonight. We’ll all be helpin’ you to get it up and runnin’ in no time at all.”
She knew he wasn’t included in that “we” because Cooter never left the house, but Reagan appreciated the sentiment anyway. “Thank you.”
Cooter grunted. “Put Lynx back on, honey.”
Reagan hadn’t heard the rest of the conversation. She’d been too busy trying to ignore the paramedic who wanted to shine a light in her eyes to check her pupils.
“You hungry?” Lynx asked, his hand linking with hers and tugging her arm toward him.
“No.” She wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to eat again. Her heart seemed to have dropped to her stomach and the damn thing throbbed like a bad tooth. She hurt and not only in the physical sense. Her only income had been obliterated in one fell swoop and now she was left with…
Nothing.
It could be worse, the little voice in her head chided.
And yes, Reagan knew that was true. At least no one had been killed. Amy would be fine; Wolfe was fine. Thankfully, no one else had been in the bar at the time.
“He obviously planned this, huh?” she asked Lynx, forcing her eyes open.
“Rhys thinks so,” Lynx noted, gently squeezing her fingers.
“To kill Amy?”
“That’s my guess.”
“At first, when I couldn’t get the door open, I thought the guy at the bar had done it,” she explained.
“What guy?” Lynx’s tone was hard.
“The one who was flirtin’ with me. Never saw him before. When I shut him down, he just walked away. I remember thinkin’ it was odd. Thought maybe it was a joke that he locked us in the bar.”
Then, when the world had exploded, she hadn’t given that guy a second thought.
Clearly, she’d been the only one who had thought it was anyone other than Amy’s ex.
Reagan had heard her brother talking, knew he suspected the guy was watching Amy. Obviously, the police chief knew Amy worked at Reagan’s. Reagan had even briefly wondered if he was still there, watching the destruction. Lynx had sounded completely sure of himself when he told Rhys that the bastard was long gone. Her brother had agreed.
“Do you think he’ll be back?” she asked him now.
“I do.”
She peered over at him. “Amy said she’s gonna take this opportunity to talk to a reporter since they’ll be doing news coverage on it.”
“I heard.”
“Do you think that’ll make it worse?” Not that she thought it could really get any worse than this.
“Don’t know.”
Reagan closed her eyes once again, sighing heavily. She felt defeated.
And the only thing she wanted to do was sleep. For a decade.