What if Matthew had gotten out safely? What if the boy was outside, right now, wrapped up in his mother’s arms, while Brennan was trapped inside?
What if history was cruel enough to repeat itself?
The barely there sound of a cough sank hooks into every inch of his attention, and he whipped toward it without pause. “Matthew?” The word flung past cracked lips, and Brennan crawled forward as fast as he could, searching wildly. “Call out, Matthew! I want to help you.”
“I’m here.”
The wavering reply sent a shock wave of relief through Brennan’s chest. A set of saucer-wide eyes blinked out from an oversized shelving unit half-full of cases of water, and holy hell. Brennan never would’ve seen the boy hiding there if he hadn’t hitched.
“Hey, bud. I’m going to get you out of here, but we’ve got to hurry.” He didn’t want to frighten Matthew any further, but they’d been running out of time since the minute Brennan had crossed the threshold.
“I want my mom,” the boy said, coughing over the words, and Brennan instinctively pulled the collar of Matthew’s shirt over his nose and mouth to match his own.
“I want to get you to her.” Brennan calculated the distance between their location and the front door in his mind, weighing it against the return trip to the back of the store. The front door was the fastest route out, for sure.
Just as long as it wasn’t blocked.
“Come on.” Brennan stomped on the thought and reached for Matthew, who thankfully slipped from his hiding spot to crawl next to Brennan on the floor. Other than looking tearstained and terrified, he didn’t appear to be hurt, which was a huge mark in the win column. With one economical move, Brennan swung the boy to his back, and even though his muscles seized in pain from the added pressure, he aimed himself full-on at the exit.
“Hold on as tight as you can, okay?” He stabbed his boots into the linoleum in a wide stance, balancing Matthew’s weight with the need to stay as low as possible. Between the smoke and the tall shelving on either side of them, visibility was limited to only a few feet forward, but Brennan still covered the space with confidence. He’d memorized all the exits by his third trip to Joe’s, and by the sixth time, he could find the front door with his eyes closed.
Some instincts were sewn in forever.
Brennan rounded the corner at the end of the aisle, sweeping his gaze in a lightning-quick one-eighty before tipping it upward. Flames sparked like bright orange pinpricks through the haze of black smoke, covering a huge section of the far wall, and what little breath he had left shot from Brennan’s lungs, making him dizzy. Shit, this fire had moved fast, changing the game with each passing second. Which meant he was only getting one chance at the door.
And dizzy or not, he needed to take it now.
About the Author
KIMBERLY KINCAID writes contemporary romance that splits the difference between sexy and sweet. When she’s not sitting cross-legged in an ancient desk chair known as “The Pleather Bomber,” she can be found practicing obscene amounts of yoga, whipping up anything from enchiladas to éclairs in her kitchen, or curled up with her nose in a book. Kimberly is a 2011 RWA Golden Heart® finalist who lives (and writes!) by the mantra that food is love. She resides in northern Virginia with her wildly patient husband and their three daughters.
ZEBRA BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2015 by Kimberly Kincaid
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.
Zebra and the Z logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.
First Electronic Edition: June 2015
ISBN: 978-1-4201-3888-7
Published in the United States of America
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