Torch (Unbreakable Bonds 3)

“N-name?” he stumbled, gaze locked on Noah and Rowe ground his teeth.

“Just put Noah on both.” Noah’s grin grew and those goddamn dimples came into play.

“I’ve never seen you guys in here before,” the barista ventured. Rowe watched him suck on his lower lip, his cheeks flushing. No, the guy wasn’t suspicious. He was too busy fucking hitting on the guy who looked like a walking advertisement for sex beside him.

“A friend, Chris, told us to meet him here. Said he was going to be gaming for a while,” Rowe said before Noah could say something that would reduce the kid to a useless pile of goo. Sure, he understood blending in, but Noah didn’t need to get any fucking chummier than he was with the kid.

“Chris?” The barista’s eyes jumped over to Rowe and surveyed the man, his smile growing. “Yeah, I think there’s a couple back there.”

Noah clapped his hand on Rowe’s shoulder, adding just enough pressure to turn him away from the barista and toward the gaming room. “You good, boss?” Noah whispered in his ear, leaving Rowe dying to shove his elbow backward into Noah’s stomach. Fucker knew he wanted to throttle the kid and was laughing.

“Keep your eyes peeled,” Rowe grumbled.

“How will we—”

“Fuck!” Both Rowe and Noah’s heads swiveled as one to the cubicle facing them not more than fifty feet away. A head had popped up, partially covered with a black hood from a hoodie, but they could easily make out the young face with big brown eyes and delicate features. Rowe’s heart stopped as he looked at the young man. His appearance felt all too familiar. But before Rowe could think too much on it, the boy darted toward the back of the café. Rowe and Noah charged after him, pushing other gamers out of the way as they tried to get to their feet. People shouted after them, but Rowe ignored it, his eyes focused on the back door the guy had exploded through and into the bright sunlight.

Rowe followed into the light, blinking rapidly, still partially blind when he started after a dark blur. He could hear the scrape of Noah’s shoes on the pavement behind him. Their target crossed the litter-strewn back alley behind the café to a tall chain-link fence. He jumped, his toe catching in one of the holes so he could lift himself over the top to land heavily on the other side. The man didn’t even look back, but darted on between two buildings. They easily followed, catching the fence and launching over with relative ease. Noah’s longer legs gave him an advantage and he was after the guy a half second faster than Rowe.

They followed, cutting through weed-choked yards and narrow alleys. People screamed and cursed behind them as they were carelessly knocked out of the way, but Rowe and Noah didn’t stop in their pursuit. Getting their hands on this fucker meant getting a step closer to Jagger. At the very least, it could mean an end to the fires.

Darting up one street and through another alley, Rowe and Noah came to a sharp halt as they came out onto a heavy street. The light had changed against them and cars surged forward, filling all four lanes. Their arsonist bounced off the hood of a gray sedan. Tires squealed as brakes were slammed and horns blared, but the guy was immediately back on his feet and on the other side of the street. Rowe hesitated another second and then started forward. Noah roughly grabbed his shoulder and jerked him back to the curb.

“Stop! You’ll get killed!”

Rowe growled, swallowing back his own curse. Noah was right, but the pyro was gaining ground on them. He could only hope that the asshole wasn’t accustomed to running five miles a day. Rowe still had plenty of steam left. He was happy to run this guy to ground.

As soon as traffic lightened enough to leave a few gaps, they were running again, cutting through another side street to come out to…fucking nothing.

They stopped on the sidewalk, looking up and down the street, but it was empty. Directly in front of them was an open parking lot without a single car. There were a few houses, but there was no one on the sidewalk and no cars on the street. The delay at the busy street had cost them. The perp had disappeared like free doughnuts on a fucking Friday.

Rowe grabbed Noah’s arm and shoved him up the street. “Check the cars parked on the street. Movement in the windows. I’ll go in this direction.”

They canvased the area for nearly twenty minutes before Rowe had to face facts. They lost him. The guy had to know the area better than they did, because he found a hiding place or had a car secreted somewhere to make his escape. There wasn’t a trace of him.