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Joe fisted his hands at his sides as he waited for any clue as to what was going on. If Quinn’s clenched jaw was any indication, the caller wasn’t delivering good news.
Ending the call with a grunt, Quinn moved Alex aside and stood. “Stay here with Annie, sweetheart,” he said, laying a quick kiss on his wife’s forehead. “Joe, let’s go. Now.”
His stomach sank. The command in his friend’s voice left no doubt. Something was definitely wrong.
Joe grabbed a coat, shoved his feet into a pair of shoes, and climbed inside Quinn’s SUV in under thirty seconds. Quinn shifted into Drive and tore down the street before Joe had finished closing his door all the way.
“What is it? Is it Roxie?”
“I don’t know,” Quinn said, sounding hoarse.
“Then what the fuck is going...” The words died in his throat as they turned the corner and parked.
Holy. Fuck.
The entire front of Comfort Food was engulfed in flames.
Joe’s heart stopped, and his lungs seized in his chest. He leaped from the car and raced through the chaos—lights, sirens, hoses, water—toward the burning building. Two firefighters halted his progression.
“Hold up, Joe.”
“Sorry, man, but this is as close as you can get.”
He glared at the two men. He recognized them as fighters at Cade’s gym.
“She’s not in there, is she?” Panic clawed at his throat when the men looked at each other. “Tell me she’s not in there!”
Joe tried to lunge past the firefighters, but he was hauled back by unseen hands.
“Stop, Buchanan. You gotta stop.”
He turned, fists clenched, ready to pummel whatever asshole had grabbed him.
It was Quinn. Joe stiffened at the somber look on his friend’s face.
“Shut up and just fucking listen, okay? I talked to the chief.” He blew out a breath, then nodded to the group of firefighters attacking the blaze at the front of the building. “There’s another group around back. Fire’s not as bad there. They were able to enter the building, and they...”
Joe’s stomach dropped as he watched his friend try to control his emotions.
“Holy shit, man,” Joe murmured. “What is it?”
“Roxie,” Quinn said, tears filling his eyes.
Joe’s blood ran cold. “She’s in the fucking building?” It was on the tip of his tongue to ask if she was alive. But no. He refused to put that thought out into the universe. Because Roxiewasalive, dammit. She had to be.
When Quinn nodded, the relief that flooded through him turned his knees weak.
“They see her,” Quinn said. “She’s on the ground, but they weren’t able to get to her. They’re going back in now.”
If Quinn said more, Joe didn’t register it. All he could hear was the whooshing of the hoses and the pounding of his heart. All he could think about was Roxie in that blazing building.
She had to be all right. She had to.
Chaos swirled around him, but Joe stood rooted. From his spot in the middle of the street, he could see the front of the café as well as the right side of the building—which was where the firefighters would walk on their way to the awaiting ambulance. His eyes never left that side.
She had to be all right. She had to.
It was the mantra he repeated in his head. Because dammit, if he said it enough, the powers that be would hear. He just hoped they’d listen. Not for him, because let’s face it, he’d fucked up, but for Roxie.
