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“I hope it went well,” Ryan says. “London came to town to speak to them, which I think is pretty cool. I liked chatting with her at the wedding. She and Drew are great.”
I nod in agreement as I watch the three dots bounce with her reply.
Summer: No, I’m good. I had food. Can’t wait to tell you all about it!
“How are things with you and Rem?” I heart her reply and shove my phone back into my pocket. “They seem better, but how are they really?”
“Fine.” He shrugs a shoulder. “I’d say they’re just fine, compared to how it’s been the past few years.”
“I don’t know what went down between you two, and it’s none of my business, but I hope you figure it out. I’m going to head out and meet Summer at home.”
“Yeah, I need to check on the kid. I don’t think I’ll get much sleep tonight.”
“Just call any of us if you need anything. You know we’ll help.”
“I know. I’ll probably call Mom after you leave to fill her in, but I don’t think there’s anything anyone can do. Except give me five minutes alone with that asshole in his cell and turn off the fucking cameras.”
I blink at him. “You know I can’t do that.”
He lifts an eyebrow. “I’m sure the department could use an anonymous million-dollar donation.”
“Fuck, Ry.” I push my hand through my hair. “I want that as much as you do.”
“No,” he interrupts, his voice hard and cold. “You don’t. I want to fucking kill him. I want to take him apart slowly, painfully, but I’ll settle for five minutes of beating his fucking face in.”
I lick my lips and shake my head. I understand the rage. That boy upstairs is in terrible shape, and it’ll take him a while to heal from all the injuries.
Wally deserves to have his ass kicked big time.
“This isn’t the wild west,” I reply softly. “I can’t just hand him over to you so you can bloody him up.”
“Think about it,” he suggests. “The donation stands.”
“Man, if I could afford to give a million dollars as a donation just to kick someone’s ass, well…I don’t know what I’d do.”
“I’m telling you,” he says as he follows me to the front door. “Let me help?—”
“With my investments. Yeah, yeah, I know. You can’t do much with my measly police pension.”
“Oh, you’d be surprised.” He tugs me in for a manly hug, pats my back, and then I head down to my truck. “Thank you for today.”
“It’s what I do, as a cop and as a brother.” I wave and start the truck, then pull out of the driveway and onto the highway into town. Ryan isn’t as far out as our family ranch, so it doesn’t take quite as long to get back into Bitterroot Valley.
I’m still ten minutes out when I get a call.
“Wild,” I say.
“Chase, you need to get downtown,” Bridger Blackwell, the fire chief, says. “Now, man.”
“What’s up?”
“Summer’s shop is on fire. She’s?—”
I hang up and press my foot on the gas as my heart hammers with adrenaline. I just heard from her, and she was fine. But she took the flowers back to the shop. Jesus, is she inside? Is she hurt?
The last few miles feel like they take forever, and when I reach downtown, I can’t get near the shop because of the emergency vehicles, so I pull to a stop two blocks away and jump out of my truck, running as fast as I can. The smoke is intense, and there are still flames coming out of the roof of the flower shop as well as the office next door. I scan the area, looking for Summer, and then spot her across the street.
And motherfucking Evan Spencer has his arms around her.
