Page 5 of Buried Too Deep

Another man raced into the lobby from one of the back offices, his clothes rumpled. Antoine Holmes, their IT specialist. “Phin? What the fuck?” His gaze pivoted to Stone, breathing into Joy’s mouth. “Stone? What’re you doing here? What the hell’s going on?”

Burke and Antoine rushed over to where Joy lay. Burke dropped to his knees next to Phin. “Tell me what happened.”

Antoine knelt on the other side of Stone, looking helpless. But not accusatory.

At least there was that.

Phin lowered his gaze to his bloody hands pressed to Joy’s even bloodier chest, to Stone still giving her mouth-to-mouth. “We found her” were the only words he could find to say.

Burke brushed his hand over Joy’s close-cropped hair. “Joy, honey, I’m here.” He spared Phin a quick glance. “I’m sorry, Phin. I panicked. I know you could never hurt her.”

Stone looked up, glaring at Burke. “Asshole,” he muttered, then went back to breathing for Joy. “Cameras?” he asked during his next mini break.

Burke looked over at Antoine. “Did you check the feed?”

“Yeah.” Antoine scrubbed at his face with his palms. “I was asleep at my desk. Headphones on. Heard the shots but they were muffled. Didn’t wake me up right away. I immediately checked the feed. It was a man, dressed in black. Joy shot him, then he and Joy fought over her gun. He shot her, then hit her head with the grip. Pushed her wheelchair over.”

“I should have hired…” Burke winced, his voice trailing off.

“Night security,” Phin muttered, because…yeah. “This is my fault.”

Burke’s voice hardened. “No, it’s not.” He stared at Stone. “Why are you here?”

“He came with me,” Phin said. He knew that Burke knew who Stone was. It was Stone who’d asked Antoine to help Phin get a job in New Orleans. Antoine had asked Burke, who’d welcomed him into the group. “Escorted the prodigal son home,” he added, hoping his words hurt Burke to hear as much as they hurt him to say.

He thought I did this.

Burke winced. “Dammit, Phin. At least wait to be angry until after we get Joy taken care of. Was she conscious at all? Did she say anything?”

Burke was right. This was about Joy. Not me.

“No. She was unconscious when we found her. We saw a woman running from the building, heard the shots, then Stone saw a man running away. That’s all I know.”

Burke clasped Phin’s shoulder much as Stone had done. Phin fought the urge to shake him off. “I’m glad you’re home,” Burke said quietly. “I swear it.”

Phin wished he could believe that. “Where are the medics?” he shouted to the cops, who were just standing around, watching.

“On their way up,” one of the cops said.

Thirty seconds later, two medics with a stretcher burst out of the elevator. Stone straightened, sitting back on his heels as they put an oxygen mask over Joy’s mouth.

“Phin,” Stone said quietly, tugging at his arm. “Let them get to her. You need to move.”

Woodenly Phin rose and took a step back, his hands warm and wet with Joy’s blood. Now that the medics were here, he focused on the blood dripping from his hands.

And remembered the last time.

The office dissolved, Phin’s nightmares taking its place. Explosions. People screaming. Bodies falling.

Body parts everywhere. Just…everywhere.

And blood dripped from Phin’s hands. So much blood.

Dry hands gripped Phin’s face harshly. “Phin,” Stone hissed. “Stay with us.”

Phin blinked. Stone was staring at him, his expression too urgent to ignore.

“There you are,” his friend said with relief. “Don’t disappear on me.” Stone spared an angry glance at Burke. “You’re an asshole.”

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