Page 103 of Risky Passion

Tory drifted to my side, and when she leaned into me, the space between us seemed to hum.

"You holding up okay?" I asked, trying to keep myself grounded.

She glanced up at me and the exhaustion in her expression was on full display. "I am now. Thanks to you."

I shook my head, meeting her gaze. "You’re tougher than you realize."

A faint smile played at her lips as she bumped her hip lightly against mine. "Sweet talker."

A loose strand of hair slipped across her cheek, and it took everything in me not to brush it aside.

"Most people would’ve broken after what you went through."

She let out a quiet, humorless laugh. "Trust me, I’m barely standing."

I wanted to say more and to tell her how incredible she was, and how much her courage amazed me. But the words caught in my throat, clumsy and insufficient. Maybe now wasn’t the time for those kinds of confessions anyway.

We spilled into a large, open kitchen and living area with high, vaulted ceilings. A potbelly fireplace dominated one wall, and a battered dining table sat in the center of the room, surrounded by an assortment of chairs that looked like they’d been scavenged from a dozen different places. The space had an odd charm, lived-in and practical.

“I could use some food, that’s for sure,” Whitney said, rubbing his hand over his belly. “Is there enough for me?”

"Of course." Yasmin turned toward the fridge. "Zena had Molly bring enough food from Firefly Café for everyone." She removed a tray and set it onto the counter. "Now sit,” she said as she brought out a second tray, placing it directly in front of Tory and me.

The spread was impressive; finger foods, pastries, cold pizza, cakes, and sandwiches piled high enough to feed an army. As we descended on the food like vultures, I caught Tory's eye.

She flashed me a grin, wiggling her eyebrows. "Food."

"Yeah, I needed this," I said, and around a mouthful of sandwich, I asked the group, “Are there any updates on Blade and Viper?"

“Nothing. The damn search is taking forever," Cobra said. His chest heaved like he was battling to keep his emotions in check.

"Can they hear anything under the rubble? Voices? Banging?" I asked.

"Nope. The waves crashing under the building drown everything out."

"What do you mean under the building?" Tory asked, lowering her sandwich.

"That warehouse is where Thomas Wexler tried to kill me,” Ryder said as his expression darkened. “It's built over the water, and they usedto drive the boats under the building and hoist them out for repairs. I only escaped by diving through a gap in the floorboards."

"So, Viper and Blade could be under there?" Yasmin's eyes lit up.

"Maybe, but I didn't have a whole warehouse collapse on top of me," Ryder said.

The room collectively groaned as we tore into the food like starving teenagers.

"Why can't they just swim out?" Whitney asked.

"The perimeter's caged off," Ryder answered. "Trust me, I tried. Barely made it out before high tide. Another few minutes and I would have drowned." He shook his head.

My sandwich turned bitter in my mouth as I thought about what rising water could do in five minutes. I pictured myself climbing through the rubble, stepping onto giant beams that had splintered in the blast. “Shit, Parker. I need your shoes.”

“Ah man, I knew that was coming,” he moaned. “Where are yours?”

“Tory can tell you later. But stop your bitching and hand ‘em over. I can’t go onto that site in bare feet, can I?”

Whitney's beat-up Converse sneakers wouldn't cut it where I was headed.

Parker kicked off his RMs without another word. As I laced the boots up, Cobra said, “I’ll grab you a change of clothes.”

---