Page 101 of Something Borrowed

And all I can think about is him.

I’m so sorry, my beautiful Viking. I’m so that I couldn’t see you again. I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough to fight these flames.

I roll onto my side, trying to get closer to the wall beneath the window.

But this is it. This is as close as I’m getting.

I can’t move anymore.

I can’t even breathe.

“Rufino.” A dry, cracked whisper flaking off my lips. But I want the last thing I hear to be his name. “Rufino.” I say again, but it doesn’t even sound like a word anymore.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Rufino

Icrawl inside the once modern and neat apartment, searching everywhere for her. The living room is turning black while smoke rubs against the walls and ceiling. A layer of ash coats the sofa, drifting like snowflakes from above where the ceiling is on fire.

“Verity.” I scream her name again but there is no answer.

I heard her. She has to be in here somewhere.

Standing up I run from room to room. A small kitchen engulfed in flames. I can’t even step inside it because the wall of heat is too much. But she’s not in there, anyway.

The bathroom is crumbling inward. The shower is filled with shattered glass after part of the ceiling crashed down.

In a back room I find what I’m looking for.

There is a guard crouched low on the ground, struggling to breathe as he leans against a heavy locked door. The security on the door tells me it’s a holding cell. Verity has to be trapped in there. Her father was using this safe house as her prison and I set it all on fire.

My blood boils as I draw the knife from my ankle strap and approach the guard.

The anger burns within me for putting Verity in such a dangerous situation.

I’m angry because I don’t know if she’s still alive.

I’m angry because if I killed her, if I hurt her - I will never forgive myself.

The guard mumbles something, his eyes are bloodshot and watering. He clutches at his throat then in shock he sees me crouched in front of him.

He tries to reach for the gun lying on the floor at his side, but his movements are heavy and uncoordinated.

I lean towards him and with one swift arch of my arm I shove the knife through is lower jaw, up into his skull before he screams.

His body twitches as blood runs over the handle of the knife, down the front of his shirt. I kick his body out of the way so that I can open the door.

I hear her coughing from behind the secured door.

I’ve got to get in there now.

Panic takes over and I search the guards dead body for the key. If I can’t find it, I will shoot the locks off, but I fear hitting her with a stray bullet. I don’t know where she is on the other side. She could be leaning right up against the door the same way the guard was.

Relief soaks through me when my fingers touch the keys inside the pocket of his jacket.

I grab them, the metal is hot in my hands while I search for the right one.

When I get it I shove it into the first lock. My eyes are watering so much it’s hard to see. I get the second lock open and shove my body weight against the door.

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