Page 2 of Wrecker

“There’s something else,” Kelley admitted.

“I fucking hope so. Or you’ll be sending me on a wild goose chase, and I might not answer the next time you call.”

“Bullshit. You answer every damn time. That’s how I know I’m special.”

“Nah. That’s just how you know I’m not smart enough to block your number.”

Kelley barked a laugh. “Missed you too, man. Anyway, a woman’s been poking around each of the demo sites. Requests inspection records. Blueprints. Sometimes she flashes a student ID and sometimes a city permit. We thought she was local news at first, but she doesn’t ask the right questions for a journalist. We got eyes on her anyway. Turns out, she visited the last site a week before the building collapsed.”

“Think she’s involved?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. But she’s connected somehow. I’m texting you her info along with the address of the parking garage. I’ll email you everything else we’ve collected on the situation.”

I glanced around at the shit show we were still cleaning up. “You need me to go there now?”

“I don’t think there’s any need to go right this minute. Besides, don’t you live like over an hour from Chattanooga? It’s the fucking ass crack of dawn.”

“More reason to go now. I’m over two hours away,” I grunted.

“You’re in Nashville?”

“Yeah. Dealing with club shit.”

A second later, my phone buzzed. One image. I didn’t see anything else.

I opened it without thinking—and then fucking stopped breathing.

The photo wasn’t much. A snapshot taken from a distance, but it was sharp, making it easy to pick out the details. But even through the pixel haze, she was…gorgeous. Black curls tumbled down her back in a riot of soft chaos. Her skin had a warm glow, her jaw was tight with focus, and she was squinting at a set ofblueprints like they’d personally insulted her. Long legs in fitted jeans, safety vest flung open, clipboard balanced on one hip.

But what stopped me cold were her eyes.

Even in low res, I could tell they were violet.

Who the fuck had eyes like that?

My dick woke up like it had been shot full of adrenaline. The damn thing hadn’t twitched for a woman in longer than I wanted to admit. But now it roared to life.

Heat spiked low in my gut, fierce and instinctive. I didn’t know her name yet—but I already knew she was mine.

“What’s her name?” I asked, voice rougher than I wanted.

“Peyton Carr. Twenty. Civil engineering student. Finishing up her junior year. We thought she was just nosy, but now I’m not so sure.”

I let the silence stretch for a second, still staring at her photo.

“Reid?” Kelley prompted.

“I’m on it,” I muttered. “Send me the garage specs. And the collapse reports.”

“You still got access to your old blast modeling shit?”

“You think I’d ever throw that out?”

He snorted. “Didn’t figure. Call me if you find anything.”

The line went dead.

I just stood there for a minute, phone still glowing in my hand, her photo burning into my brain.

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