Page 85 of Fractured Hearts

“My dad knows what happened. He’s already working on getting a construction crew out here. I told him to offer to pay them whatever they wanted to get here fast and work through the night,” Kai says. He frowns when he looks at Ezra. “You need stitches. You’re still bleeding.”

Ezra looks down at the wound on his chest, surprise written on his face like he forgot it was there. He winces when he pulls the fabric away from the blood. I don’t want to leave Maverick even though I know there’s no way I can get to him myself, but I also know that if I stay here, Ezra will, too. I have to hold my breath and shove the heels of my hands into my eyes to keep myself from passing out. I really hate blood.

“Take him to get stitches. Martha called Darren once we finalized the plan, so he should be back at the house already. Willa and Declan are on their way here with my dad to meet the construction crew,” Kai says, typing rapidly on his phone. “Take the truck keys.” I catch them before Ezra can, smiling for the first time in days when he pouts.

“Thank you,” I tell him, wrapping my arm around Ezra’s waist. I can’t see the blood, but I know it’s there, and it’s making me dizzy. I have no time to be dizzy. He slips his arm over my shoulder and squeezes as we make our way back to the truck. “Let’s get you fixed up so we can come back and save our man.”

Ezra smiles, but it’s weak. His face is pale, probably a mix of blood loss and adrenaline crash. The property is well lit, which was hard to see before all the dust settled. Acres of forest surround the mansion and a garden with a large detached garage towards the back. The only building left standing. I can see why Patrick wanted this property.

“Why did the house fall?” I ask, more to myself because I don’t think Ezra knows.

“Could be something Patrick did to it,” Ezra muses. “Maybe some sort of failsafe, but that doesn’t make sense with the way he reacted to Maverick being in there.” A shiver moves through his whole body, but he keeps voicing his thoughts out loud. I’m glad to have him at least a little distracted from the pain.

The moment I pull the truck into the driveway of Adira’s house, Martha and Darren are ushering Ezra inside like a couple of worried parents. It would be pretty cute if Ezra’s actual parents weren’t standing by, looking baffled by all the fuss. It’s not that they don’t care about their kids, because it’s become clear they would do anything to protect them, but there’s a coldness to both of them that Martha and Darren make up for in spades.

I follow behind them, both exhausted, but too anxious to even sit down. Belle sees me and pulls me into a quick hug. “We’re going to get him out of there. No matter what.”

I hear what she isn’t saying. We’ll get him out of there, but will it be Maverick or just the body he’s left?

ninety

EZRA

After twenty-eight stitches and a stern lecture about knife safety from Martha, Jo and I are back at the Wolfe property. Everyone else came with us. Adira found some old camping chairs and between those and the bed of my truck, we’re all watching the crew my dad found dig out one of the loves of my life. Jo is quiet next to me, watching every piece of rubble as it’s removed.

“You’ve been in the South too long,” I tell Jasper. He’s in a winter coat with a scarf and hat, plus the down comforter from Adira’s bed wrapped around him, and he’s still shivering. It’s chilly, but it’s also only fall. We haven’t even hit Thanksgiving yet, and the sun is breaking over the trees. We’re only about a hundred and fifty miles south of the cliffside house, but the weather is much warmer here. It hasn’t even snowed here yet.

“How about you come warm me up, Ezzy baby?” he says, his eyebrows bouncing playfully.

Jo laughs and nudges me with her shoulder like she wants me to go snuggle the man. The smile she gives me makes my chest ache with how beautiful she is. Pulling her into me, I kiss the top of her head. I’m so scared that what they find at the bottom of the wreckage will be my heart. Because if Maverick is gone, then how can I keep Jo? The three of us complete each other and without him, we’re just two broken people trying to fill a missing part that can never be filled.

“I think we found it!”

Jo and I jump down from the bed of my truck and run over hand in hand to the supervisor leading the dig. He points to the visible cement square they cleared around. There’s still more debris that needs to be removed before the door is accessible, but the entire room is intact. Some of the tension leaves my body, but not enough. My muscles are so tight it’s causing my stitches to pull, but I can’t relax enough to stop it. I’m exhausted and so worried that I could vomit. I need Maverick and Jo together in my arms more than I need to take my next breath.

“I think we can get the rest cleared in under two hours,” the supervisor says. “It’s just, we have to be more careful in this area in case of, um . . .” he trails off.

“Yup,” Jo answers, her tone sharp. She doesn’t want to hear the words out loud any more than I do. In case there’s a body. In case Maverick didn’t make it into that room. The supervisor nods and directs his crew to get back to work. The sun is high in the sky now. My mom and Martha fed us all lunch, only talking Jo and me into eating by pointing out that Maverick would need us at our best. We’re so far from our best you’d need a telescope to see it, but I didn’t have the heart to point that out to them. Instead, I nibbled on my ham and cheese while Jo did the same next to me.

Jo and I stand hand in hand and watch as every piece of wood and plaster is removed, adding to the massive pile behind the house. Once half the door is visible, I have to physically restrain myself from jumping down there and digging through the rest with my bare hands. I glance at Jo, and I can tell from the frown on her face that she’s doing the same.

After what feels like hours, but may only have been minutes, the floor in front of the door is clear. I jump down, ignoring the twinge in my knee and the sharp pain that means a ripped a stitch, and hold my arms up for Jo to do the same. I see her look from where there’s definitely blood seeping through my shirt to the door and back again. A look of grim determination crosses her face and then she’s leaping into my arms.

“I’ll take half the lecture from Martha later,” she says, kissing me quickly and spinning towards the door. “Ready?” she asks, holding her hand out for mine. I take it, knowing this is the moment that will change absolutely everything and needing her strength. I grab the wheel and pull.

“The door is open,” I whisper, like that will change the outcome of whatever is on the other side. I pull some more, but it’s slow moving. Jo lets go of my hand and stands beside me. I look at her and nod. Both of us pulling helps, and we get the door cracked open enough for even me to fit through. I take a deep breath and look inside. What I find nearly causes me to faint.

ninety-one

MAVERICK

When did the lights go blurry? Probably around the fourth bottle of wine, I think to myself and chuckle. I wonder how long I’ve been down here that I could drink that many. I’ve been known to hold my own in a drinking contest, but I think four bottles of wine is a lot. And I’m not even good drunk. I’m just kind of dizzy and nauseous drunk. And my head is pounding, but that might be because of all the loud noise.

I lie flat on my back on the cool floor and stare at the ceiling above me. It saved my life. I think. Unless that’s Patrick digging me out. That possibility is the reason I’ve stayed quiet down here and haven’t yelled to let anyone know I’m alive.

Also, what’s with all the fucking bombs? That’s how we all ended up separated and now it’s caused my parents’ house to literally fall on me. Who is bombing Patrick?

Actually, many people would like that opportunity, I’m sure.