Page 117 of Flare

“Did you get hold of Rhys? His car is parked up the road and I can’t—”

“He’s okay.” Leon put a steadying hand on my shoulder as the air whooshed from my lungs and my knees buckled. “I spoke to Christopher about ten minutes ago. He took the store’s van to the rehearsal. How about we take a seat before you fall?” He eased me down until we were both sitting on the edge of the sidewalk.

“And so Rhys is okay?” I grabbed Leon’s shirt. “You know that, for sure?”

“I do.” He patted my arm. “Apparently everyone had to silence their phones during the rehearsal.”

I collapsed against Leon’s side. “Oh, fuck, thank you. I’m gonna kill that man for scaring the bejeesus out of me.”

Leon chuckled. “I’ve passed it on to the firefighters and police. I also let Caro know about the fire and that it was under control. And I convinced her to wait at home in case Rhys turned up there before we could get hold of him.”

I nodded in appreciation. “Good thinking. I’m not sure Rhys would be quite up to his mother straightaway.”

Leon’s phone buzzed with a text and he smiled. “That’s Christopher now. They’re on their way.”

A huge weight lifted from my chest and I could finally breathe. Two seconds later my phone buzzed and a text flashed up.

Flare is on fire. I’m heading there now. Talk to you later.

I replied.I’m here already. See you soon. Maybe call your mother. Leon let her know.

I waved to Jack, whose eyes hadn’t left my face, and turned to Leon. “Is your place okay?”

Leon nodded with evident relief. “The alarm went off and the engine was here in under five minutes. We were bloody lucky.”

Cheers interrupted our conversation and we turned to see one of the firefighters emerge from Flare with a cat in a cage.

Valentino.And fuck, if I didn’t almost laugh from the relief. Leon’s eyes brimmed with equal delight, and we reached for each other in a happy hug while an overjoyed Jack needed to be held back from running over to collect the disgruntled cat, who was yowling in protest at being forced from its home in such an indignant fashion.

“I better get back.” I pushed to my feet and then helped Leon up.

He frowned at the two boys. “What were they doing here anyway?”

I followed his gaze. “An excellent question,” I grumbled. “And one I’ll be addressing very soon.”

I’d almost made it back to the two boys when Jack jumped to his feet and shouted, “Rhys!”

I spun and saw Rhys headed toward Flare at a run and nothing had ever looked so beautiful. Jack and Drew made it to him first, talking flat out, Jack’s hands flying through the air as he pointed to Flare while Rhys’s puzzled gaze flitted between the two boys and the store and then finally landed on me. He said something and then pushed between them to take me in his arms, squeezing the air from my lungs.

I circled my arms around his waist and buried my face in his neck, in that familiar vanilla scent of his shampoo that I’d ached for all week. He drew a sharp breath and I almost let him go, but then he tightened his grip and I swallowed back the tears.

“Are you hurt? Why were you here? You weren’t inside, were you?” He pushed me back while keeping a firm grip on my shoulders and raked his gaze over me.

“No. I’m fine. Jack and Drew were here, and the police called me. I was up at the university. I...”Fuck. Don’t cry. “When I saw your car, I... I thought you were inside.” I shuddered and he hauled me against him.

“No, I took the van. Shh. It’s okay.”

“It is now.” I whispered against the cool skin of his neck, then pressed a kiss in place just because. Rhys stilled, then brushed the side of his head against mine and sighed almost happily. Then the boys appeared beside us, and I reluctantly stepped out of his embrace.

“Beck said you were here.” Rhys asked them, “What happened?”

Jack answered, looking more than a little bit sheepish. “We were around the back. We tried to get Valentino out.”

“Shit, Valentino!” Rhys’s gaze jerked to the store.

I grabbed his arm to stop him running to check. “He’s okay. They got him out. He’s in a cage over there.” I pointed to the cat being fussed over by a couple of firefighters, and Rhys sagged with relief.

“Thank God.” Then his attention returned to Flare, and he gasped, his full weight falling against me. “Jesus Christ.” He stared at the blackened bricks above the windows and door—the acrid grey smoke still rising lazily into the evening shadows above the streetlights—and started to shake. “I... shit... I... fucking hell, Beck. What am I going to do?” He dragged both hands down his face as if to scrub the scene from his mind.

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