Page 39 of Brick

God, what if Brick and his team had been shot?What if Bray got caught in the line of fire?Her nerves jumped, making her unable to sit still.

They’d been gone ten minutes.

What’s happening?

Her phone rang and she startled, fumbling the cell phone.She nearly dropped the damn thing into the footwell.Righting the device, she stared at the screen.

Ellie.

She’d never been so relieved and so pissed to see her sister’s number.Part of her had feared it was Brick calling to give her bad news, the other hoping he was calling to assure her Bray was safe.She answered on speakerphone.“Hello?”

“Hey, I hope this isn’t a bad time,” Ellie replied, her voice tight.

“I don’t think there’s a good time.”She gave a loose laugh, belying the unease raising her blood pressure.“Actually, Brick and his team just went into the building to get Bray.”

“I was hoping you had news.”

“Not yet.But you’ll be the first to know.”She kept her gaze on the parking lot—still no sign of Brick or his team.

“I wish I were there with you.Give that baby boy a big squeeze from Auntie.”Her sister’s voice caught, and Natalie sensed that Ellie had the same fear as she did.

That Bray might not come home.

“It’s going to be okay,” Ellie said, as if reading her mind.“We just have to keep faith and pray.Do you want to let me go?”

Natalie sniffled.Pressure expanded in her chest.Sitting there crying over the phone wasn’t going to help anyone and would only make Ellie feel like crap.“Yeah.I should have news soon.”

“Okay.I’ll hang up.Just let me know as soon as you can.Even if it’s just a text.”Ellie was the last person to press someone when times were hard.The fact she’d even called showed how much her sister was struggling.

“I will.I promise.”

“Love you,” Ellie said, and hung up.

Natalie lowered the phone in her lap as the screen went dark.She lifted her gaze once again to the parking lot.

Brick, please hurry.

CHAPTER 11

Brick closed hishand around the cool metal handle of the bedroom door.Time slowed.He didn’t want to acknowledge the possibility he’d failed.That there was even a chance Bray wasn’t in the room.

Hope collided with angst as he gently eased open the door.The room seemed empty—too quiet.

His pulse roared in his ears.Garbage and clothing were strewn across the brown carpet.The stench of urine and feces hit him in the face.Pushed against the far wall was a small crib, the paint so chipped and beat up the damn thing could have been brown or white—it was impossible to tell.

A low cry sounded.A whine.

Brick froze, and his gaze landed on a little figure inside the crib.Dark curls billowed around the child’s face.Relief exploded inside him, but a new fear made his pulse slow.

What if it’s not him?

“Bray?”he asked softly, as he moved toward the crib.

The child scooted until his back bumped against the railing.Brick lowered himself so he wasn’t towering over the kid.Large brown eyes, identical to his own, stared back at him.

Food was crusted on his cheeks, and his eyes were red and puffy from crying.Brick suspected all the chaos had woken and scared the little guy.Tear tracks stained his chubby face.The sight ripped Brick’s heart in two.

“Hey, buddy.I’m a friend of your mommy’s.I’ve got something for you.”He reached into his vest and pulled out the stuffed animal.“Is this Rocky?”He held it over the crib.