Page 8 of Girl Lost (The King Legacy #1)

HE’D COME TO EXPECT SURPRISES with this job, but the last thing Corbin imagined was running an operation with the woman who broke his heart. What was she doing here? Why had she come back after all these years?

He leaned his shoulder against the side of Abercorn’s dilapidated house. Sweat glued his shirt to his back beneath his tactical vest.

The broken miniblind offered a sliver of view into the silent interior. No movement. No sound. Too quiet.

Officer Salas had arrived ahead of them, warrant in hand, and waited at the foot of the steps.

Officer Gordon covered the back door. Luna stood to Corbin’s right with Blade between them.

They’d found an extra vest for her, but it was too big and gaped around the armholes and neck.

She wore black jeans and a dress shirt with the sleeves cuffed to her forearms. Hair pulled into a low ponytail.

A hand on the gun in a paddle holster at her hip.

She looked the part, he had to admit. But her presence here .

.. it unsettled him. How she had inserted herself into this operation, he still didn’t understand.

He’d spent years imagining their reunion, replaying it over and over in his mind.

But every scenario he’d imagined ended with her in his arms. Not with her standing beside him in a tactical vest, as if the past had never happened.

On the ride over, he’d pressed her for details about her undercover work, but she’d said it was classified. That’d been her answer to all his questions.

Classified .

She was shutting him out, just like always.

Probably this was a bad idea, but it was clear she wasn’t going to back down, and he didn’t have time to argue.

If they didn’t let her come, she’d likely find another way to interfere.

At least this way she might stick around long enough to talk.

As long as she followed his lead, this might work out.

The rotted wood creaked and groaned beneath their feet. One wrong step and one of them would fall right through the ramshackle porch.

Blade slammed his fist on the front door. Three loud bangs rattled the windows. “Police! Search warrant! Open up!”

Corbin held his breath and listened for movement inside. Nothing.

“Police! We have a search warrant!” Blade banged again. “You have ten seconds to open the door or we’re coming in!” Blade nodded at the door as he drew his weapon. “Ready?”

Corbin had his gun out. Luna took her position. When she was ready, Corbin leaned in and tried the knob.

Locked.

Of course, it couldn’t be that easy. He gripped his weapon and brought it up to sight. The adrenaline surged, and he took a deep breath before nodding to Blade.

Officer Salas stomped up the steps. He rammed the sledge into the door and ducked back. The wood splintered with a crack and burst open an inch, stopped by a brass security chain.

Corbin put his shoulder to it. The metal plate tore from the jamb, freeing the door.

Following the barrel of his pistol, he slipped inside and stood with his back to the wall. “Police! If anyone’s in here, come out with your hands in the air!”

His vision sharpened, scanning the small kitchen and sparsely furnished living room for immediate threats.

Nothing.

In two heartbeats, Blade, Luna, and Salas crossed the threshold and walked inside the darkened house.

The floor plan was simple. Living room on the right. Small dining area followed by a kitchen on the left. A long, dark hall straight ahead divided the house down the middle. Four closed doors likely concealing three bedrooms and a bathroom.

Corbin covered the front while the other three disappeared down the hall to clear the bathroom and bedrooms. He stepped into the kitchen.

The sink had a hand towel draped over the top, probably hiding a stack of dirty dishes. Two of the four kitchen chairs sat cockeyed as if the last people sitting there didn’t bother pushing them back under the table.

A quick sweep of the kitchen revealed no place to hide.

No basement door. No trapdoor. Just a grimy linoleum floor and peeling wallpaper.

A doorway beyond the kitchen led to a cramped mudroom.

Old avocado-green washer and dryer units stood side by side against one wall.

He checked the washer. Empty. The dryer too.

The shelves above the laundry units were lined with cleaning supplies. He spotted a can of charcoal lighter fluid on a shelf above the washer, tipped on its side. Reckless. A fire waiting to happen.

An ice chest held a few empty two-liter soda bottles. He nudged the overflowing laundry basket with his foot. Nothing.

The back door had a small window covered with faded floral curtains. He peered out at the overgrown yard. A chain-link fence sagged in the distance, choked by weeds. Officer Gordon picked his way around the rusty lawn chairs.

Shouts of “ Clear!” rang through the house, extinguishing any hope that Stryker was here.

He turned from the mudroom and moved back through the kitchen, stepping into the living room just as Blade stalked over and holstered his weapon. “It’s empty. No signs of Stryker or anyone else.”

Corbin clicked his own gun away. “I guess Abercorn would be stupid to use his own name and address when he purchased the Taser cartridges.”

“If it weren’t for stupid criminals, I might be out of a job,” Blade said.

“Hold on a sec!” Salas called out. “Y’all better come see this.”

He followed Blade down the hall as Luna emerged from the back bedroom. They crowded the hallway near the small bathroom.

The light was off. In fact, all the lights in the house were off, and the windowless room made it darker. He made out the shapes of bottles of cleaning solution, a small can of paint thinner, and several two-liter bottles standing upright in the bathtub.

A meth lab.

That explained the lighter fluid and plastic bottles in the mudroom. Abercorn was cooking meth, not kidnapping old men.

They needed to get out. Now.

“I can’t see a thing.” Blade reached for the wall switch.

“Wait! Don’t touch—”

Too late. A single yellow spark spat from the empty socket above, igniting a line of fire that streaked across the ceiling.

Booby trap.

“Out! Out! Everyone out!” Blade yelled, shoving Luna toward Corbin.

Luna stumbled into the hall and stood there. Wide-eyed. Unmoving. Mesmerized by the blue-white glow zipping along the lines of fuel. It hit the wall beside her in a burst of orange.

“Luna! Let’s go!” Corbin snapped his fingers in her face. She blinked and jerked to attention. For some reason she still wasn’t moving. Something about the fire had her rattled.

He grabbed her arm, tugging her toward the front of the house. The flames racing toward the living room illuminated S-shaped streaks of wetness all around them. The couch. The curtains. The walls. The carpet.

Everything soaked with ... “Accelerant!” Corbin roared.

In seconds, the entire room was ablaze. Flames devoured the curtains, leaving only pillars of fire licking up the picture window’s frame.

Accelerant-soaked, the couch roared into a blazing mass.

The ceiling above cracked and gave way. Plaster and wood crashed down in a wave of fire and debris over the front door. Embers scattered across the floor.

Their exit choices shrank.

But the fire set to trap them here was nothing compared to what was cooking in the bathroom.

Luna gasped. A circle of fire bloomed around her feet, biting at her ankles.

She slapped at the flames with her palms. He spun her around.

Shoved her toward the dining room. Darted to the kitchen.

Snatched the towel from the dish pile. Back at her side, he beat the flames down, fast and hard, until they died.

“My back! My legs!” Salas shrieked. “Get it off! Get it off!”

Corbin looked up. Saw Blade beating the flames off Salas with his hands. They had to get out of here.

He grabbed a nearby dining chair and hurled it through the window. Glass shattered. “Blade, get Salas out! We’re right behind you!”

Blade grabbed Salas’s arm and hauled him over his shoulder. They disappeared into the smoke.

He turned to Luna. “Now for—”

The explosion was instantaneous. A deafening roar. A blistering heat. The shock wave lifted him off the floor. He flew backward through the air and slammed into something hard. Pain shot through his shoulder.

Everything went black for a second. He coughed, struggling to clear his vision and the ringing in his ears. His hand touched something smooth and solid. Wood. A table.

The fire. The explosion.

“Luna!”

“Right here,” she said from beside him.

He shoved himself up on his hands and knees, biting back the pain in his shoulder. They’d been thrown into the kitchen. The force of the blast must have flipped the table, shielding them from the worst of it.

“You okay?”

“I think so.” She was shaky, but at least she was conscious.

Thick smoke filled the air, forcing him to fight for each breath. He pushed the table away and scanned Luna. Soot smudged her face, but he didn’t see any other injuries. He hauled her to her feet, his arm tight around her waist.

The dining room ceiling groaned and cracked. A section collapsed in a shower of sparks and burning debris. The window exit was gone.

“The back door!” Luna pointed. “Gordon’s out there!”

He could see Officer Gordon through the small window in the back door, smashing the glass with his baton. He was reaching through the broken pane, fumbling with the lock.

A wall of fire surged toward the mudroom, licking at the shelves above the washer and dryer. The heat intensified.

A fireball erupted from the mudroom in a flash of heat and orange light. Corbin yanked Luna down and shielded her body with his own as fiery shrapnel of plastic and wood sprayed across the room.

The back door was open now, but the mudroom was an inferno. No way was he risking that exit.

“The window!” He gestured to the one above the kitchen sink. “Can you climb?”

She nodded and scrambled onto the counter. He pushed the window open.

A tight squeeze, but she managed to wriggle through.

“Luna! Grab my hand!” Blade boomed from below.

A hand reached up, and Luna disappeared into the smoke chasing her out the window.

Corbin boosted himself up. His injured shoulder screamed in protest. Following Luna, he squeezed halfway through the opening and glanced down. The ground seemed miles away.

His shoulder throbbed. Pain radiated down his arm, but he had to get down.

He jumped, landing hard. Legs shaky. He stumbled and collapsed on the weedy lawn. A uniformed officer used a blanket to smother the flames on his back.

Salas was on the sidewalk with Blade and other officers working to get his shoes and vest off. Patches of his pants had burned away. He writhed and moaned.

Corbin couldn’t look. He returned his attention to the house. The flames roared with a hungry fury, consuming the structure.

Sirens wailed in the distance, but he didn’t think there would be much left by the time the firemen doused the structure. Any evidence of Stryker being held captive here was now lost to the flames.

Luna shrugged out of her tactical vest and lowered herself to the ground. She sat so close beside him that their shoulders touched. Ash and soot smeared her face. She rested her arms on her knees. Smoke wafted from her shoes.

“How’s that for a welcome home?”

She coughed a laugh. “Baptism by fire?”

“Literally.” They sat watching the house burn.

His stomach knotted as he thought about Luna’s legs on fire.

In that moment, his brain controlled his body without him thinking.

Now he hated himself for even letting her be there in the first place.

But this was his shot. His one chance to tell her what he’d been holding on to all these years.

He just had to work up the courage to say it. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m a little toasty, but I’ll be okay.” She nodded at the flaming house. “Someone set a trap for us. Doused everything in lighter fluid.”

“The fire moved too hot, too fast. Lighter fluid doesn’t do that. This was something else, something highly volatile.”

“That’s above my pay grade,” she said.

He offered a half-hearted smile. They were talking around what had really happened in there. How she’d been paralyzed by the fire and unable to move. He wanted to ask about it, but the sirens made it impossible to hear. And if she told him it was classified, his head might explode.

Emergency vehicles screamed to a stop on the street behind them.

They cut the sirens but left the red and blue lights whirring.

First responders shouted commands and information, using their training to get the scene under control.

Paramedics took over caring for Salas, and he heard Officer Gordon arguing with the paramedic about riding with Salas in the ambulance.

Corbin didn’t move to get up. Instead, he watched Luna watching the fire. There was so much he wanted to say but nowhere to start. The mistakes of the past loomed over them like a shadow, but it wasn’t time to shine the light there.

Not yet.

Luna turned her head and caught him staring at her. “What?”

Needles stabbed his throat. The pain wasn’t from smoke inhalation. “We could’ve died in there.”

She nodded.

“We could’ve died, and I never would’ve had the chance...” He ran a thumb over her cheek, wiping away a bit of the dirt.

The fact she didn’t pull away was a good sign. Something had changed between them, and he had to say the words before the moment evaporated. “I just ... I need you to know ... I’m sorry.”

Without a word, Luna shoved herself up with her palms and moved past him. Eyes cutting forward, she skirted around him, making sure to keep her distance. The heat of the fire on his face was nothing compared to the fury that radiated from her.

Like a chump, he just sat there. Watched her weave through the crowd of gawking onlookers, shaking her head.

Perfect. He’d taken a risk. Opened up. And Luna had walked away. Again.

Maybe some bridges were simply too damaged to ever be rebuilt.