Page 29 of Through Any Fire (Any x #1)

“ T horne.” Cal finally extends a hand, his jaw ticking as he waits for Andy to accept.

But he never does. The older man stills, fury brewing in his blue eyes, and his hands curl into fists at his sides. Then his gaze slices to me, obvious concern softening the pinch between his brow. “Your name isn’t Bea Page, is it?”

I shake my head. Cal stands at my side, a possessive arm curling around my waist.

Andy inhales sharply, his eyes widening infinitesimally. “You’re Loren Catrone.” It’s not a question. But hearing my maiden name doesn’t offer any comfort, like it once did.

“It’s Keane, now,” Cal amends. His hand squeezes my hip, a visible claiming.

Andy’s fury bubbles to the surface once more, redirecting back to Cal. “ How could you? ” Decades of hurt shadow the three words that tumble from Andy. Confusion prickles my nape. “You’re supposed to protect the women in your life.”

Cal says nothing, his hold tightening on my hip. I can’t see his face, but his ire blisters through my satin blouse.

I frown. “Andy, how do you—”

“How can you keep her safe, when the only one she needs protection from is you? ”

A gasp parts my lips. “Mr. Thorne—” I try again, but he cuts me off with a hard look.

“I don’t expect you to understand.” With that, he strides from the conference room.

Steam practically rolls off his suit jacket, following behind in a cloud of wrath.

When he reaches the double doors, he pauses, looking over his shoulder.

“I’d advise to be more careful with who you align yourself with, Loren, but you’ve already gone and married the fucker.

” Andy’s wrath slides over to Callahan, who takes a step forward in front of me.

“But it’s his family who ordered the attack.

His family that threw the explosive into the car that killed her infant son.

She ran into the pharmacy for two minutes.

Two fucking minutes.” His voice cracks. “She was forced to watch from the shadows as her child burned in front of her, with nothing she could do except flee for her life.”

He pauses, throwing over his shoulder, “Good luck, Loren. You’re going to need it.”

Callahan steps forward, blocking me from Andy’s view entirely. “Is that a threat, Thorne? I don’t take threats lightly, no matter who they come from. You come for her, and you’ll have the entire Keane enterprise raining hell on you and your business.”

Cal’s promise hangs in the air.

Andy visibly deflates. “It’s not a threat; it’s a warning. Danger follows you wherever you go, Keane. Protect her. You won’t get a second chance.” The older man leaves, the doors shutting behind him.

Kate’s color has drained from her tanned skin, leaving her unusually pale. She stammers, mouth opening and shutting. “I’m going to go…check on him.” She turns and leaves herself.

My hands tremble, but not from Andy’s words.

No, it couldn’t be that. Not when Callahan Keane stands in front of me, wielding the entire expanse of his power and reach to protect my life against an empty warning.

His promised protection settles over me, and a sense of peace coils around me for the first time since we were teenagers.

Cal turns, but I can’t let him see the emotion in my face, so I cross to the window that overlooks Bengal Street, searching for anything to take my mind off the catastrophe.

I spot Cohen, who sits on a bench next to the entrance of the publishing house, talking on his cell.

Cars drive by on the street, people going about their normal lives, undisturbed by the events that have shaken me to my core.

It baffles me how people can live their lives with no clue to the dangers they pass by daily.

Cal comes to stand beside me but doesn’t speak. His presence fills my every sense, and I struggle to hold on to my convictions of keeping him at arm’s length.

“I guess we should leave,” I resign.

Cal’s warmth heats me from behind. “Graves is on it.”

Cohen stands and heads to our SUV. This part of downtown is no stranger to the elite, and luxury cars line the curb, many of them blacked-out SUVs .

Below us, Andy Thorne storms out of the building. His strides eat up the distance of the sidewalk until he reaches his car. His driver jumps to get in the front seat. I can practically hear the slam of his car door, and I wrap my arms around myself as I wait for him to leave.

But he never will.

Flames engulf the SUV, and a heartbeat later, the boom of the explosion rattles the windows. Before I can even think, I’m slammed to the floor with Cal’s body covering mine. After a breath of pure silence, car alarms blare, and screams fill the quiet.

“Are you alright?” Cal asks, sheer terror written on his face. His eyes dart over my face, my body. Cal visibly shudders when he realizes I’m fine. Confused, but fine. Cal jumps to his feet to look out at the destruction.

Oh, my god. Cohen.

I rush to the window and search frantically for the bodyguard I’d grown close to, but there are too many people surrounding the flaming car. Swarms of people, and none of them doing anything but staring in horror.

Cal checks his phone, and a wave of relief washes over his face. “Come on, we need to get out of here.” He wraps a firm hand around my arm and tugs me away from the window.

“Wait”—I resist against his tug, planting my feet with little success—“we need to find Cohen!”

Cal looks over his shoulder and must see the terror written on my face. “He’s fine. He’s waiting for us in the back alley. We have to go now , Bunny.”

Confusion clouds me, but I finally relent, picking up my bag from where it fell and grabbing Cal’s hand.

He leads me down the stairs, and we pass a distraught Kate, who’s on the phone with someone as tears run down her face.

I open my mouth to call out to her, but Cal leads me away with a jerk of our joined hands.

Down the stairs, we tumble as people blur past us. Instead of turning toward the entrance, Cal leads me toward the back.

“How do you know there’s an exit back here?”

He looks over at me, his face impassive. “There’s always another exit.”

We round a corner, and sure enough—an industrial metal door.

In the next breath, Cal pushes me against the wall and pins me with a look that says, stay here .

He reaches under his suit jacket and grabs his gun from who knows where, before raising it in front of him.

A quick push on the metal bar, and Cal silently and efficiently slips out the door to clear the alley.

I wait, counting in my head to ten until my nerves finally get the best of me.

Creeping forward, I nearly jump out of my skin when Cal’s head appears back around the door.

“Fuck, you almost gave me a heart attack.” I grasp my chest.

Cal doesn’t respond. In fact, he barely acts as if he heard a word I said. Instead, he just opens the door farther and tugs me outside.

In the back alley of the publishing house, a black SUV waits for us. The weight of relief is crushing, and a breath shudders out of me. Callahan opens the back door for me, and I jump in, practically climbing over the center console to squeeze Cohen, who grunts and pats my arm awkwardly.

“Shut up and accept my love. I thought you were a goner.” My voice breaks, but I only squeeze him tighter.

“Okay, sucker, that’s enough. I’m fine. You can let go now.”

“Loren, let the man go. We need to leave.”

The echo of the explosion rattles around in my head, and I nod as a terrible sorrow fills my chest. Cohen might have lived, but Andy Thorne couldn’t have made it.

I fall back into my seat and squeeze my eyes shut. He was a great man, and I could feel just how much he loved his wife and their daughters. He didn’t deserve to die this young, and certainly not in a flaming explosion, just like—

“Oh, my god.” My jaw falls to the floor, my heart speeding.

“What, Bunny?” Cal asks.

I twist to face him. “When I first interviewed Andy, he never mentioned anything about an attempt on his wife’s life. She died in a car accident a few years ago, but it was just that—an accident. But he just said her infant son died in an explosion—a car bomb.”

The dots connect but make little sense. What a cruel twist of fate to die in the exact way your wife almost did all those years ago?

“There were a few black SUVs out there, and this isn’t the first time a car has been blown to bits right in front of our eyes.”

Cal doesn’t seem to appreciate that piece of information, and his shoulders tighten, jaw grinding together. Cohen exits the alley and takes off for the Keane residence.

“Was it meant for us?” My voice shakes, but I get the words out somehow.

“Possibly. But Thorne was a powerful man. It’s entirely possible it was a direct attack and nothing to do with us.”

While his words might be true, there’s a silent understanding thrumming in the car that it feels connected, like there’s a puzzle laid in front of us, but we only have half the pieces.

Cal dials on his phone and lifts it to his ear, recapping the events of the last fifteen minutes, probably to Everett or Matthias.

Leaning my temple against the glass, I close my eyes and try not to picture the second car bomb I’ve witnessed in the past week.

Never in my life have I been so close to the danger of this life, and yet, after a few weeks of being married to Callahan Keane, and it’s like my entire world is imploding.

Is it always like this with him? Or am I just special?

Cohen merges onto the highway, and I stifle the laugh that threatens to escape me. I close my eyes, the cool glass icy against my temple, but a window sounds like it cracks. My brows furrow, and I lift my face, only to be slammed to the back of my seat as Cohen steps on the gas.

“What the fuck?” My voice is shrill, and my knuckles are white where I grip the door handle.

Cohen swerves, and I slide across the bench, not having put my seatbelt on earlier. Another crack in the window, and I realize—we’re under fire.