Page 92 of Made For Ruin

All the things I haven’t told her.

The speedometer climbs past eighty as we tear down the mountain road.

Images flash through my mind faster than I can process them. The ring box sitting in my nightstand drawer, waiting for the right moment. The way Lainey looked this morning in my shirt, sunlight in her hair. Her smile when she promised to be home for dinner.

I can’t lose her.

The thought pounds through my head with each turn of the wheels. Everything I want, everything I need, is in that building. The woman who brought me back to life. The woman I was going to ask to be my wife.

She has to be okay. She has to be.

I launchmyself from Reign’s truck as we pull up to the Piney Creek Diner.

Three fire trucks block the street and thick smoke billows from the back entrance. Emergency lights paint everything in alternating flashes of red and white against the afternoon sky, illuminating the crowd that’s gathered to watch.

“Dad! Over here!”

Axel’s voice cuts through my rising panic as he ducks under the caution tape and runs toward us.

“I’ve been trying her phone for the last twenty minutes. It keeps going straight to voicemail.”

“Keep trying,” I tell him as I approach the nearest firefighter.

The man turns at our footsteps, already lifting his hand in a stopping gesture.

“Sir, this is an active scene. You need to stay behind the tape.”

“Screw the tape. What the hell happened?” I demand.

“Looks like a small kitchen fire. We’ve put it out now, but there’s still quite a bit of smoke from the accelerant.” He gestures toward the smoke still pouring from the rear of the building. “The structure’s mostly intact, though. Just some damage to the back area.”

My shoulders sag with relief at the news that the diner is okay. I glance over at the ambulance.

“And Lainey’s okay, too?”

“Who?”

“Lainey. The owner.”

The firefighter frowns.

“We did a complete sweep of the building, sir. There was no one inside when we arrived.”

Ice floods my veins as his words sink in.

“That’s impossible,” I growl. “Her car is right over there.”

“Sir, I can assure you that my team did a thorough search. The building is empty.”

My hands clench into fists as fear and rage war in my chest.

Four hours ago, she was safe in my bed, laughing at my protectiveness. Three hours ago, she kissed me goodbye, promising to hurry back. Now, her car sits abandoned in a cloud of smoke, and no one can tell me where she is.

I shove past the firefighter, ignoring his shouts as I sprint toward the diner’s entrance. My heart pounds against my ribs with each step.

The smoke stings my eyes as I burst through the front doors.

“Lainey!”

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