“Don’t, Charly. Please.”
Standing on her toes, she flung her arms around my neck and kissed my cheek. “I’m here if you want to talk.”
I let her hug me, patting her arms. “Thanks.”
She waddled away, not saying anything else, but I saw the tears in her eyes. Knowing she was hurting for me eased the pain a little.
But not much.
Everyone else carried on as if nothing was wrong. They talked around me, including me when they could, and ignoring the elephant in the room. I was grateful for that. Gabby hadn’t been at the garage. Charly told me she had asked to work from home.
“I think she’ll come back next week,” she said, patting my arm. “Maybe you can talk then. Figure this out.”
More sirens went past, and I stood, going outside. Brett was striding toward me, and I frowned at the serious look on his face.
“What’s going on?”
“Ziggy’s bar.” He grasped my shoulder. “There’s been a fire.”
It was after six o’clock. Gabby would be working. Fear tore through me.
“Fuck,” I snarled, pushing past him. Maxx’s truck was at the front of the driveway, and I jumped in, knowing his keys would be in the ignition. I tore out of the driveway, the tires spinning, dust and gravel kicking up behind me. Cop cars were ahead of me, and I followed, keeping my foot on the gas.
Gabriella.
She had already lost her family to a fire, and now she was in another one?
The thought of her hurt, or worse, made my stomach tighten, and I gripped the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles were white.
It didn’t matter what had occurred between us. I didn’t care what words she had flung at me on Sunday. If she was scared, hurt, or in need, I would be there.
I pulled into the parking lot, slamming on the brakes. Ziggy’s bar was fully consumed by flames. The fire shot high into the air, black smoke billowing around. Firefighters were frantically trying to douse the inferno. Cops and paramedics were working on people. I cast my gaze around frantically, seeing that Gabby’s SUV was parked in her usual corner. I threw open the door of the truck and took off running. A cop tried to stop me, but I dodged him, yelling over my shoulder.
“My girl is in there!” I screamed and kept going. I saw Ziggy standing, a blanket draped over him. He was watching the chaos, a dazed look on his face. I veered toward him.
“Gabby!” I yelled when I reached him. “Where is Gabby?”
He blinked. “It was so fast. There was a huge noise, and the bar was…” He trailed off. “It’s all gone.”
I gripped his shoulders, shaking him. “Where. Is. Gabby?”
His gaze was blank. “I-I haven’t seen her.”
Terror filled me, and I turned and ran again, heading toward the flames. This time, two cops grabbed me.
“You can’t go in there.”
I struggled against their hold. “I have to. She’s–she’s in there! I have to find her.”
One of them, I recognized, and I grabbed his arm. “Jeff—Gabby is in there! I have to get her.”
He shook his head. “You can’t. It’s fully engulfed. We got everyone out that we could, Stefano. Ziggy is in such shock he can’t tell me how many people were inside.”
“No,” I gasped. “No!”
Then I heard it. My name being called, and I spun. Gabby was stumbling toward me, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Her hair was wet, her face covered in soot, and she was holding a bloodied towel to her head.
She had never looked more beautiful.
I rushed toward her, enfolding her in my arms. She came easily, fitting against me. She was sobbing, gripping me close, trying to talk, but the words were jumbled and unintelligible. I didn’t care. She was there in my arms. She was safe. I had her.
And I wasn’t letting her go again.
I paced in the hospital waiting room, thinking of the other time I had been here. When Charly had been brought in, injured, I’d had to physically restrain Maxx in the waiting room. I had found his impatience amusing.
Now I understood.
“She’s going to be fine,” Charly assured me, pulling on my hand. She had arrived not long after I’d followed the ambulance here. Maxx was with her, and so was Brett, all present for moral support.
I yanked my hand through my hair. I had only been on the periphery of the burning building, and I smelled like smoke. I could only imagine how Gabby felt.
After I had grabbed her, a paramedic appeared, scolding her about leaving the gurney. I carried her back, watching as he refitted the oxygen mask over her face. Her hands showed a few burns, and the deep cut on her head wouldn’t stop bleeding. I held her hand as they did what they could, then told her she had to be taken to the hospital. Her tear-filled, anxious eyes met my gaze.