Page 82 of Waiting For A Girl Like You (Haven House #4)

T hey had to hold Ben back.

More than seven cops, each thinking they could get between a father and his possibly dying daughter, scrambled to contain Ben behind the barrier set up by officials.

Will wasn’t much better. From what Rowan could see via the security cameras scattered around the buildings near the staging area, both men were sure the worst had happened.

Bernie was curled up on the couch, Simone holding her as she wept. Annabeth sat on the floor, having lost the ability to stand when the second explosion hit. The delayed satellite feed was only now catching up with the action, revealing the main building going up in a spectacular ball of fire.

They sat stunned, helplessly watching it all go down.

First, there was Holden running through the woods and back to the staging area, where he broke into an extremely large red truck to steal.

He nearly drove over a few people when he sped away, only pausing briefly to speak to Will before barreling straight through the barricade.

Then they watched the truck pop in and out of the fog, all of them shouting in relief when Holden stopped about halfway down the road to pick up a group of people running out of the woods. But not just any group of people. Jamison’s platinum hair was a dead giveaway that it was their people.

And then…

Then they watched the end .

When the first explosion rocked the security camera transmission, Rowan switched the feed to Will and Ben.

Unlike the satellite, those cameras were live, and when their aerial feed caught up, Rowan could only assume it had been one of the outer buildings on the property to go.

The fog made the house nearly impossible to see, but he expected a much larger spectacle for the main building.

It was.

The footage rolling on the media room’s screen caught up with the truck as it dealt with the first small detonation right as the second explosion shook the live feed at the staging area.

Once they could see the second blast from the sky, there were screams as the bright red truck disappeared in the wave of smoke.

The unbelievably powerful debris field shot far and wide, covering the entire area.

They waited. Hoping. Praying. They waited, but as some of the smoke cleared, and the forest surrounding the blast burned in the growing inferno, Rowan attempted to run a thermal scan to check for signs of life.

With this much heat coverage, it would be near impossible to obtain any data, but he had to try.

“No movement on the ground,” he announced. “Nothing.”

“Get Ben on the phone,” Simone cried as she pointed a trembling finger at him. “Right this minute.”

The man screaming on the split screen while he fought off the dog pile of police wouldn’t hear his phone.

Benjamin Fairweather was lost in his pain and calling him would be useless, but Rowan did it anyway.

A ringing pulse poured from the speakers in the media room.

As expected, the call went to voicemail, and before Bernie asked, Rowan called Will next, receiving the same results.

Empty minutes ticked in his brain, syncing to the erratic beat of his heart, and without thinking or holding onto his obligations of monitoring the system, he came up behind Annabeth to sit on the floor with her.

No one in the room was unfamiliar with this foreboding sense of shocking loss.

Each of them had a close relationship with pain.

Each of them, except him.

He was the only one here who had never experienced this uncertain tennis match between hoping for the best or moving forward to accept an insurmountable loss.

Dragging Annabeth back between his legs and into his arms, he held her tight while they watched the satellite feed, both unable to look away.

“Come on,” Annabeth whispered through the onslaught of tears. “Don’t you die on me, Jamison. I’ll never forgive you.”

Nothing.

Still nothing.

The only movement being the black smoke billowing in the air.

Shoving up from the floor, Annabeth stood and yelled at the satellite feed. “Stop messing around, Jamison. Get the hell out of there!”

“Sweetheart.” He didn’t know what to say or how to act. Moving to stand, Rowan tried to hold her, but she wouldn’t let him. “I’m so sorry.”

Simone rushed over, but Annabeth shook her head and spun around to shout and point at the screen. “She’ll drive the damn truck out of there herself. It’s Jamison . She’ll do it. I know she’ll do—”

Rowan didn’t know who screamed first. It could’ve been Annabeth. Maybe Bernie. Might’ve even been him.

But it didn’t matter.

All that mattered was the sight of that big red truck racing out of the smoke and destruction.

It hauled ass down the dirt road, the outline of it becoming clearer the more distance it gained from the destruction.

The driver didn’t have much control, and the satellite’s gauge measuring speed showed distinct acceleration patterns on the straightaways and hard braking on the curves, which almost sent the thing flying more than once.

“This is a delayed view!” Stumbling over to his laptop, Rowan switched out the satellite view for the cameras at the staging area, expanding the live shot just as the truck came to a skidding, steaming stop behind the barricade. “Holy Mother of God. They made it.”

He zoomed in as far as possible to try and get a look at the truck’s occupants. Emily Fairweather sat behind the wheel. Eyes wide and scared shitless, she promptly burst into tears when the police surrounded them.

Damon was in the passenger seat, his face and upper body covered in ash. With one swift kick, he had his door open to haul himself out. The shocked crowd didn’t know what to do as he staggered around the front of the truck, shouting for someone to get help .

The rear cab doors flew open, and Liam and Jamison exited next.

They were followed by Claudia, clutching a terrified Madison.

Yanking open the driver’s side door, Liam pulled Emily out to reveal an unconscious Holden slumped in the seat behind her.

Rowan thought he could make out a gash on Holden’s forehead that seemed to be bleeding pretty good, and Liam pulled off his shirt to staunch the flow while they waited for medical personnel to join the party.

Ben was shoving people out of his way. Being as tall as he was, it was easy to follow him through the crowd. Jamison launched herself into his arms when they connected, hysterically crying against her father’s chest.

So many things were happening at once, and Rowan didn’t know exactly where to look.

Will directed medics to the truck while Liam and Damon pulled Holden out.

But then, once they had Holden on the ground, Damon lost consciousness and dropped next to Holden.

His sisters and niece clamored around him but were moved aside by another set of paramedics who began chest compressions.

“They must have given him something,” Rowan murmured. “A guy as big as Damon, they would have either had to lock him up or keep him drugged.”

Simone laid a hand against her throat. “That poor baby,” she whispered, watching Madison sob as she clung to Claudia. “What on earth did they go through in that house?”

“Hell.” Bernie joined them. She hadn’t taken her eyes off her son, tracking him as he moved through the crowd. “They’ve been through hell.”

Seeing what was happening on the ground, Ben hurried to where they worked on Damon and Holden. He and Jamison spoke to what appeared to be the medical team leader, with Ben pointing off in the distance while shaking his head.

“Ben’s already telling everybody what to do, and… oh, my.” Annabeth’s mouth dropped open. “Is Damon really trying to get up?”

Damon was indeed trying to rise, pushing away the poor paramedic attempting to place an oxygen mask on him.

“That would be how he is,” Rowan replied when Damon broke free to trap his sisters and Madison in a hug. “Does anyone know if Trevor has been notified? ”

“Will said he called him earlier.” Bernie grabbed her phone from the couch. “But I’m not sure what he looks like. Have you seen him? Did he make it?”

“He’s not there,” Simone said solemnly as she searched the crowd. Rowan flipped through several camera views to double-check, but Simone was right. There was no sign of Trevor or Heather Fairweather.

“Ben will handle it,” Annabeth assured them. “He’ll take care of everything. He always does.”

Bernie’s phone rang with a call from Will, and she and Simone huddled in a corner so they could hear.

While they were distracted, Rowan pulled Annabeth into the hall, and the second she was out of view of her mother, the tears started.

He kept walking, dragging her straight into the library.

Once they were inside the room, he closed the door to hold her so she could let her emotions free without an audience.

“I thought she was dead.” Annabeth covered her face with her hands. Finding a spot on the small sofa, Rowan plopped down and hauled her into his lap. “I thought Liam was dead. After that explosion, I thought we lost them.”

He tucked her head under his chin. “But we didn’t. They made it out, and you helped make it happen. You were amazing.”

“I loved helping,” she cried. “And I know it’s stupid, but I liked how well we worked as a team.”

Rowan groaned at his stubborn woman. “We are a team. We’re the best team. Team McIntyre.”

Annabeth Howard’s laugh was the most beautiful sound in the world.

When she was truly happy, it always came out as a cross between a giggle and a sigh.

Hearing it mixed with her tears of relief made it somehow more beautiful, and when she moved to straddle him, he damn near fell in love all over again.

“I’m not a McIntyre.”

Lifting his back off the couch, he cupped her cheek and moved in for a kiss. “Yet.”

“Yes.”

The kiss forgotten, his half-closed eyes flew open as his heart bounced right up into his throat. “Wait, what? ”

“I said, yet.” Her smile turned mischievous. “I just repeated what you said.”

“No, you didn’t.”

He was shouting.

He realized this.

He did not care.

“You. Said. Yes .”

Annabeth shrugged her slender shoulders and tried to rise off him. “If I did, I misspoke. It’s not like you actually asked me a question or anything.”

If he hadn’t been so tired, he would have shouted a victory cry, but as it was, he was nearly dead on his feet and settled for pouncing on her instead.

Flipping them to where she was spread out under him on the couch, he kissed her.

And it wasn’t just a regular kiss. It was a kiss for the ages, one that he poured every ounce of love into.

“Promise me something,” she said, breathless when he finally pulled back. “Promise me that you’ll kiss me like that every day.”

She was his. All his. She could fight him however she wanted, but Annabeth Howard would be on the losing side of the battle.

He would win her over, and one day, he would marry her standing under the Marriage Oak.

Haven House would become their home. He would give her an amazing life under this old roof.

A million adventures in the backyard. Kids.

Cats. Dogs. The world. Whatever she wanted, it would be hers.

“I’ll kiss you like that every morning.”

To prove his point, he did it again.

“Every night.” And again, but this time deepening the stroke of his tongue, until he had her moaning.

“Every chance I get.” And one more kiss for good measure.

“Forever.” He cleared his throat, refusing to let his emotions ruin the moment. “I am forever yours, Annabeth Howard.”

The saucy minx beneath him had the gall to grin. “Annabeth McIntyre sounds better. I mean, it is already your password.”

Maybe he was going to get a little emotional after all. “I one hundred percent agree.”