Page 6 of Wrecker

“Fast. Chain reaction. Whole west side collapsed within seconds.”

“And the girl?”

He looked surprised for a moment, then shook it off. He’d worked with me long enough to know I had other sources and often knew shit before they did.

He nodded grimly. “A witness across the street saw her go in before the blast. She hasn’t come out. Fire’s nearly extinguished. We were just about to start working our way in.”

“Don’t,” I snapped, cutting him a sharp look. “I’ll take it from here.”

“You want command?” he offered.

“You’re damn right I do.”

One of the reasons I liked working with Bodie was because we never had a pissing match over who was in charge. He handled the flames, but no one was better at entry and rescue efforts than me.

Bodie spun to his men. “New orders—follow the man with the death stare. He says jump, you ask how high, midair.”

That got me a few side-eyes from any guys I didn’t recognize, but no one argued.

Satisfied, I nodded. I didn’t have time for explanations or any other bullshit. I was already moving as I grabbed the pair of gloves Bodie was holding out and snapped them on. I barked out instructions—starting with the hoses to suppress the smoke and ash that was clogging the air, obstructing our vision and making it difficult to breathe. “Need two crews to start stabilizing the corner frame, another two on standby with portable jacks.”

I knew where she’d entered, thanks to the witness. That narrowed the search zone.

But every second ticked louder. My heart pounded in fear and anticipation.

Inside the structure, the light was uneven—blinding shafts of sun cut through broken levels, but everything else was dipped in shadow. Dust choked the air, settling on my cut, sticking to the sweat already gathering at the base of my neck. The whole damn place felt like a fucking coffin with the lid just waiting to be slammed closed. Steel twisted overhead, groaning as it settled.

I didn’t flinch. I’d worked in tighter, hotter, and more fucked-up conditions.

Didn’t mean I wasn’t silently flipping my shit.

She was in here somewhere. And I had no idea if I would be able to find her in time. I could already be too late.

Just like—No. Not fucking going there. Not now.

“Talk to me,” I barked to the nearest firefighter.

“There could be a partial void in the northeast stairwell. A small air pocket. If she got there in time, she might…” He broke off when he clocked my thunderous expression. “We found a break in the lower slab, could be that the area would be accessible through it.”

“Show me.”

Best-case scenario was getting to Peyton without additional explosives. I was the fucking best at my job, but there was always an added risk, and I couldn’t stomach the idea of putting Peyton in any more danger.

He led the way, and I followed, every step heavier than the last. We ran into crumbled concrete and jagged rebar, creating a wall.

“Fuck,” the guy muttered. “The place is still deteriorating.”

Even with the level of this explosion, the building shouldn’t have been falling apart this fast and with such extensive damage. I filed that away to examine after I got Peyton to safety.

Another firefighter appeared with a K12 saw and handed it to me. Carefully, I cleared the wall, and my flashlight swept the interior as we climbed through the opening.

“There.” I pointed at a narrow gap between support beams.

And then I heard a voice—tired and scared, but still somehow sexy as hell.For fuck’s sake, Wrecker. Get your head in the fucking game!

Following the sound as we called back and forth, I finally saw movement.

Barely visible. But it was there.

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