"I'm on my way," I growl, already sprinting toward my Jeep. "Get everyone off that building now. Don't wait for me."
"We tried, but..."
"I don't give a shit what it takes, Jake. Clear that site."
I fumble with my keys, adrenaline making my hands shake as I throw myself into the driver's seat. This is important. Life or death is important. Everything else can go to hell.
I toss my phone onto the passenger seat and gun the engine, tires squealing as I peel out of the bus station parking lot.
As I race through Pine Hollow's streets toward the Thornfield project, my mind is completely focused on the crisis ahead. How the hell did Tommy miss the safety protocols? How long has the scaffolding been unstable? Are my guys still up there, oblivious to the danger?
I should never have left the site early. Should never have trusted Tommy to handle the final safety checks without supervision. I know he's careless, and he cuts corners when he thinks no one is watching. But I left anyway, eager to get to some damn flower pickup instead of doing my job properly.
Six men are in danger because I left early for some fucking flowers. Because Tommy's an idiot who can't follow basic safety protocols.
Fuck!
I press harder on the accelerator, knuckling white against the steering wheel. The Thornfield project looms ahead, and I'm going to tear Tommy a new one when I get there.
6
SAVANNAH
Istep off the bus into the late afternoon heat, my overweight suitcase thudding onto the cracked pavement beside me. The Pine Hollow bus station looks exactly the same as it did eight years ago. Same peeling paint on the benches, same flickering fluorescent light buzzing overhead, same smell of diesel fumes mixed with the sweet scent of honeysuckle from the overgrown fence line.
I scan the small crowd for Xavier's familiar face, my stomach doing nervous flips. A few other passengers get swept up in happy reunions while I stand there like an idiot, checking my phone every thirty seconds.
Fifteen minutes pass. Then twenty. My phone battery drops to fifteen percent, and sweat starts beading on my forehead. The suitcase handle digs into my palm as I shift my weight from foot to foot, the wheels catching on every crack in the sidewalk when I try to move to shade.
By the thirty-minute mark, my jaw aches from clenching it so hard. I'm dragging my suitcase behind me toward the taxi stand, the thing trying to tip over with every bump. The familiar sting of abandonment sits heavy in my chest, mixing with rising anger that makes my hands shake.
"Taxi!" I call out, waving my free hand at the beat-up Honda cruising down Main Street.
The car pulls over, reeking of stale coffee and pine air freshener trying too hard to mask the scent of a dozen different passengers. Danny Dean slides down the window, and I recognize him immediately. Same messy brown hair, same easy smile he had in high school when he used to sit behind me in chemistry class.
"Savannah Hale?" He looks genuinely surprised as he gets out to help me wrestle my suitcase into the back. "Damn, I haven't seen you since graduation."
"Danny." I slide into the passenger seat, my irritation spiking as the reality hits me again. The car smells like him too now that I'm closer. Beta scent, warm and uncomplicated. Nothing like the tangled mess of alpha pheromones I remember from the pack.
"Xavier was supposed to pick me up," I snap, unable to keep the bitterness out of my voice. "Thirty minutes I waited there like some kind of idiot."
Danny actually laughs as he pulls away from the station. "Oh, he probably got into it with Logan and Griff again. Those three can't go five minutes without butting heads."
"But they're a pack."
"Are they though?" Danny's grin widens. "There's a running bet in town about how long they'll last. Old man Fletcher said it'd be a week tops, but hell, it's been a year now and none of them have actually killed each other yet." He shakes his head. "I give 'em another month before they crack for sure."
"Emma's place on Birch Street," I mutter, slumping back in the seat.
Twenty minutes later, Danny pulls up to a familiar blue house with white shutters and a garden that looks like Emmathrew wildflower seeds at it and hoped for the best. Before I can even get my bag out, the front door flies open.
"SAVANNAH!" Emma's voice could probably be heard three blocks away as she comes barreling down the front steps in pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt, her dark hair swaying with every step.
Suddenly we're jumping up and down like teenagers again, her arms around me so tight I can barely breathe. My suitcase tips over in all the excitement, the zipper giving way and spilling half my clothes across Emma's front lawn.
"Oh my God!" Emma shrieks, but she's laughing as we both dive to collect my scattered underwear and sweaters. "You're actually here!"
Her scent wraps around me, familiar and comforting. Vanilla and lavender and home. And despite everything, despite Xavier standing me up and my clothes now decorating the neighborhood, despite the pack apparently falling apart and my life being a complete mess, I remember exactly why I came back.
