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The sky is dark, and it’s been about six hours since Mack left. I’m trying not to cry, and the stupid things keep slipping free. I beat them away with the back of my hand.
It’s heading into hour seven, and I’m going through drawers, looking for phone numbers of family, and friends to call.
I’ve got the sheriff’s department on my phone and have pressed call when someone bangs loudly on the door.
I drop the phone and run to it.
“Lawson?”
He’s in uniform and it’s clear he’s just come from the fire. He takes my arm as I start to shake. “Sidney, is Mack here?”
“No.” My voice breaks as the edges of my world turn black. “He said he’d be back hours ago.”
“Fuck.” He squeezes his eyes shut for a second. “No one’s seen him for hours. He’s not responding to the radio or his cell. He’s missing.”
ChapterTwenty-Two
Mack
I’m pissed. The dickwad fighting with his baby mama fucked my radio and my car. I can fix it, but first, I have to make sure the mother and baby are okay in all the smoke.
Their friends got out of Dodge the moment their grill overturned and the flames went up.
They’re away from the main campgrounds and the big fire, but Jesus, this area . . . if I hadn’t got here to get them out and that little fire had been left burning, I shudder to think.
It’s getting dark and my cell is dead—probably wouldn’t be working even if it was juiced. I scan the area, but the flames and other fire are way downwind and it looks to be under control.
The one they started is out.
But I have to make a decision. I go to the cleared area I made, with the woman and baby in the middle, swathed in silver space blankets.
The baby’s weak, lethargic, and coughing. The crying comes and goes. I have to get that kid to Isaac and Rose.
The fire may be under control, but it could change. I already fought the small blaze here.
My decision is this—fix my damn car and get out now with them, and leave the violent boyfriend, or find him.
As much as I want to leave the guy, it could be tantamount to murder if the winds change or he falls. He’s not far, I know that. I can fucking hear him walking around from time to time.
I go to the woman and go down on my haunches. Picking up the water bottle I gave her, I unscrew the lid, handing it to her. “Alison?”
She squeezes her baby tight, and I put my hand on her arm gently to get her to stop, so her baby can breathe, even though I’m fucking thinking there’s some smoke damage with the tiny lungs.
“Try and let her breathe, Alison. Now, we’re leaving in five, and I need you to do three things. One, look after your baby, okay? Two, stay calm. Three, help me find the fucker who gave you this shiner.”
I take her face in a delicate hold, dark anger throbbing within me. She’s scared, this woman . . . or girl, because she’s gotta be about eighteen or nineteen. Twenty at the very most. The guys and girl who left looked young, but Alison stayed.
That was the scenario I drove into—that, the fighting, and the quickly growing flames from the overturned grill.
It took me a while to find them, and now . . . shit.
“Alison, promise you’ll get counseling and leave this asshole. Okay?”
Her lips quiver, and she nods. I give this about fifty-fifty in it happening.
“Now, he’s close, so call out, say . . . I don’t know, whatever you need to get him back here. Five minutes because I think we need to get you and your child checked out sooner rather than later.”
“Is . . . is she going to be all right?”
