Page 92 of Bellini Born
Huffing and puffing from my mad dash across the lawn, I bent over with my hands on my knees when I reached my daughters.
“Summer.” The single word came out on a panting gasp as I straightened.
Enzo skidded to a stop beside me. “She was right here with the girls. I swear.”
I spread my arms wide. “I don’t fucking see her. Do you?”
Teresa shifted uncomfortably, and my sharp gaze honed in on her.
“Speak,” I barked.
“Miss Reynolds asked me to hold Miss Serafina, and then she disappeared,” my housekeeper explained.
“Disappeared . . .”
There was more to this; I could feel it in my gut. Summer wouldn’t leave the girls in the middle of a crisis without good reason.
I dropped to a knee before Bianca, my hands roaming over her tiny frame, almost as if I needed proof that she was safe. “Do you know where Summer went?”
With a nod, my daughter lifted an arm to point toward the open door of the house, which looked like the gateway to Hell, with the blazing inferno visible inside.
“Cookie.” That single word shifted my world on its axis.
Son of a bitch. She’d gone back into the house for the cat.
I was moving without conscious thought, racing toward the burning structure. There were dozens of rooms split between three floors. The odds of Summer locating what was undoubtedly a scared animal were almost nonexistent. Her rescue efforts were essentially a suicide mission.
Voices shouted from behind me, warning of the danger that lay ahead. But unless they planned to physically restrain me, nothing was going to keep me from going in to retrieve Summer.
The minute I crossed the threshold, a wall of heat hit me square in the face, and my exposed skin practically sizzled. Thick smoke in the acrid air forced me to drop to my knees as I began my search.
I lost track of time as I methodically moved from room to room, the struggle to stay conscious a constant battle.
Each inhale had glass shards slicing through the lining of my lungs, my gritty eyes stung with every blink, and my mouth tasted like I’d consumed the contents of an ashtray. But none of that mattered because Summer was somewhere inside thishouse. And I needed to find her and drag her ass to safety, kicking and screaming, if need be.
We could always buy another cat. Summer couldn’t be replaced.
Crawling into the library, I finally spotted her. But the relief at discovering her location was short-lived because she was unconscious, trapped beneath a collapsed ceiling beam. And wouldn’t you know it, there was a ball of fur curled up beside her.
The smoke in this room was even thicker, so I dropped to my belly, pulling myself forward using only my arms.
When I finally reached her limp body, I placed an ear beside her mouth, checking to see if she was breathing.
My eyes slid shut when the faintest rush of air fanned the side of my face.
She was alive. But she wouldn’t stay that way for much longer if I didn’t get her out of here ASAP.
The ceiling beam lying across the back of her legs was on fire, and I winced, noting the damage done to her flawless skin. I rose to my knees, and a burst of inhuman strength surged through my veins, allowing me to lift the heavy piece of wood before tossing it aside.
When I hooked my arms beneath her armpits and began dragging her from the room, she roused enough to let out a weak moan.
“Stay with me, Summer,” I begged, the desperation in my voice making it sound almost unrecognizable to my ears.
Hacking so violently her chest rattled, she rasped, “C-cook-kie.”
Fuck. She’d almost gotten herself killed for that damn cat. But I knew if she learned I’d left it behind in favor of saving her, there would be hell to pay.
So that’s how I found myself reaching out to snatch up the pet and tuck it inside Summer’s shirt before hauling them both out of there.
