Flash Burned (Burned 2)

“Kyle!”

“Just stay put,” he growled. He was still mostly on top of me.

“My dad!”

“Right here!” he called out, though I couldn’t tell from which direction or how far away, I was so disoriented.

I heard the pieces of 10,000 Lux pelt the stone driveway. When I stole a glance through a peephole Kyle’s propped-up arm created, I saw chunks of concrete and wood tear through branches that only slightly slowed their descent enough for the few who hadn’t found refuge on the opposite side of the circular drive to be able to dodge the massive destruction. We were all mostly a significant distance from the hotel but some of us too close to fully escape the damage. Several employees stumbled about, bleeding and half hysterical.

The blood flowing down the side of my own face barely registered. I had no idea where the burst of energy came from, but I shoved Kyle away and started to crawl toward them, along the glass-covered lawn.

“Goddamn it, Ari!” My dad was instantly beside me, hauling me to my feet.

I stared up at the four-story lobby of 10,000 Lux, a wide, gaping hole of tall blazing flames and billowing smoke.

“Jesus,” Kyle breathed as he took in the same scene. Then turned his attention to me. “You’re bleeding all over the place.”

My hands stung from the shards lodged in my skin, but the agony couldn’t compete with the throbbing in my head. Or the instant horror that my wedding bracelet was missing from my wrist.

“Oh, God, Kyle,” I said on a sharp breath. “My bracelet’s gone.”

But that was really the least of my worries at the moment. My gaze swept the crowd of thirty or so behind us, mostly out of harm’s way, and away from the burning Lux. Only a handful had been as close to the building as the three of us.

Of those unfortunate souls I said to my dad and Kyle, “Help them, please.”

We were all breathing hard; all wore the same stunned and pained expression. The others had scrapes and quickly developing bumps and bruises, but I appeared to be the only one in this small, immediate conglomeration with a crimson river flowing down my cheek and dripping from my chin, staining my dress. My dad was alre

ady on the phone to 911.

Very gently, Kyle held me. “You’re seriously hurt,” he said. “You need to sit down.”

“No.” Anxiety gripped me. So, too, did my sense of duty. I scanned the crowd. “They’re freaked out and we have to calm them.” My attention shifted as I noted each familiar face. Instantly realizing two very important people were missing. My anxiety turned to heart-wrenching, blood-chilling fear. “Dane,” I whispered. He and Amano were nowhere in sight. “Dane!” I started toward the hotel.

Kyle wouldn’t release me. “Ari, no.”

“He’s not here.” My chest heaved. The tears streamed, mixing with the blood. I swiped at the sticky mess clouding my vision. “Kyle,” I choked out. “He’s not here. Neither is Amano.” The panic made bile burn my throat. “Dane!”

I struggled against Kyle’s caging arms, my horror mounting.

Chef D’Angelo hurried toward us, hobbling slightly. His black pants were shredded at the knees, obviously from a rough fall. “Ari, are you all right?”

“Are you?” I implored.

“Yes, yes. Amano called the kitchen. Dane helped everyone out. Everyone got out, Ari, because of them. Everyone.” Chef’s dark-brown eyes danced wildly in the sockets. His cheeks were sullied and he had a small cut on his chin. He clasped my hands, then suddenly realized they were covered in blood. “Oh! I’m so sorry!”

I winced at his quick grip—he’d let go instantly.

“Not your fault,” I eeped out. The pain and the blood made me queasy. My mind turned a bit hazy. I suspected I had a concussion from the blow.

“Anyway,” I said. “Thank God everyone escaped.” Though relief couldn’t fully register. There were too many petrified and wounded people. And no Dane and Amano. “Chef,” I insisted, my own eyes as wide and wild, “where is he? Where are they?”

“Ari.” He stared at me a few agonizing moments, then slowly shook his head. “They were the last ones inside. Still in the lobby when—”

“No,” I said on a broken breath. My eyes squeezed shut.

Kyle handed me off to my father while he still had his cell to his ear.

“Where are you going?” I demanded in a hoarse voice as I slumped against my dad’s side.