But stone and timber crash inward, sending sparks spiraling into the December sky like twisted Christmas lights. The heat hits us even from here, a hundred feet back, behind emergency vehicles and Helena’s security forming a protective barrier.
Helena's arm is around my shoulders, keeping me upright when all I want to do is sink to the frozen ground and scream.
Blake's still in there. He went in to confront Silas, and he hasn't come out, and the building is burning right in front of my eyes. While he may be a superhero to me, I’m losing hope that even Blake can survive a fire of this magnitude.
"Peyton." Helena's voice is firm, grounding. "Look at me and breathe. You have to keep it together.”
"He's not out yet. The board members have been evacuated, but where’s Blake?” I don’t recognize the tone of my own frightened voice. Suddenly, the fact that Blake kept knowing my mother a secret doesn’t seem as huge as it did an hour ago. I just want him to be okay.
“Mr. Delano is resourceful and trained and has survived worse than this." She sounds certain, but I see the tension in her jaw. She's worried too.
Talia's on her phone, coordinating with someone, I don’t know who. Her dress is torn, and her face pale and set. When she catches my eye, she shakes her head. No news.
Ambulances line the circular drive. Thankfully, they arrived quickly. There are EMTs treating guests for smoke inhalation, minor injuries, and shock. The board members who were saved are there, six men who should be dead, who would be dead if Silas's plan had worked, according to Talia.
I believe it because that’s the Blake I know—a deliciously complicated man with a violent history and a moral compass that can’t be bought. How will I live with myself if he sacrificed himself to save strangers who probably don't deserve it?
"There!" Someone shouts, pointing.
A figure emerges from the smoke near the garden side of the building. A tall, broad figure moving wrong, injured, but moving.
It’s him.
I'm running before I consciously decide to, pulling away from Helena, pushing past security, not caring about protocol or safety or anything except reaching him. He sees me coming, tries to straighten up despite clearly being in pain, and I crash into him hard enough that we both stagger.
"You're alive," I'm saying, hands on his face, his chest, checking for damage even though I can see blood on his shirt, see the way he's favoring his shoulder. “Thank God you're alive.”
"I'm okay." His voice is rough from smoke, but his hands are steady as they frame my face. "Peyton, I'm okay."
"You jumped out of a third-story window?”
"Had to. The stairs were blocked."
I carefully wrap my arms around his neck to reach for a kiss, remembering that he’s probably in a tremendous amount of pain. I’m just so happy that he’s standing in front of me. He kisses me back, even as he winces in pain.
“Sorry,” I say. “I’m just so happy.”
“Don’t be sorry.”
"You could have died."
"But I didn't." He's looking at me like he's memorizing my face, like he thought he'd never see me again. "And Silas is…”
"Is dead," Talia says, approaching us with urgency. “The fire department found him in the east corridor. Gunshot wounds to the chest. It was probably a confrontation with security,” she says, then lowers her voice just in case someone is listening. “But what really happened?"
"He gave me a choice that didn’t give me much choice at all.” Blake's swaying slightly now, adrenaline wearing off. “He shot at me. I shot back. Left his ass.” He winces from the pain. “Then I jumped."
“Let’s stick with my story,” Talia tells him.
“Bullets won’t match security’s weapons,” Blake replies through the pain.
“They won’t care to investigate that deeply if the Delano family doesn’t. Now tell me, brother, what hurts?” Talia's already gesturing to the EMTs. "He needs medical attention, please.”
“Everything fucking hurts, but I’m fine.”
“Does that even make sense? You're not fine." I'm crying now, angry tears mixing with relief. "You're bleeding, and you can barely stand, and…you left me. You broke our agreement, and you went to face Silas alone.”
“You broke it first, baby.” His thumb brushes away my tears, gentle despite the pain he must be in.
