“No, they won’t answer me.”
“Shit,” Owen says the word that has been constantly filtering through my mind since I saw the explosion on camera.
“Sebastian?” the light, airy tone of Heaven carries its way through the smoke. Even in pain the guy sounds happy.
“I’m here. Owen is too,” I inform him. “Talk to us. Where are you? Can’t see anything because of the smoke.”
“I’m against a wall,” he coughs. “My leg hurts really fucking bad, guys. I can’t move it.”
Owen and I find Heaven leaning against the wall. His left leg is pinned between the floor and a chunk of stone. “Go look for the others,” Owen says. “I’m fine. I’ll get Heaven out of here. We need to get out before our cover is blown and this place collapses.”
I nod, forgetting he probably can’t see me because the air is so thick and convoluted. “Okay. You’re sure?”
“Go,” Owen urges as he pushes the chunk of wall off Heaven’s leg.
“Fuck! Warn a guy, Owen! Jesus Christ!” Heaven clutches his injured leg, and as the smoke clears, I see how bloody and burned the limb is.
Damn it, this is bad.
“You’re going to be okay. We are going to get out of here. Everyone is going to be fine.”
“I hope so,” Owen says.
“For once in your fucking life can you be positive? If not, keep your damn mouth shut. Jesus,” Heaven spurts off unexpectedly. It’s so unlike him to be serious and pissed off. He must be in so much pain.
I grind my teeth together and fall to my hands and knees to crawl along the floor. Searching for the rest of the guys this way is easier, just in case I feel their leg or arm with my hand. The debris is hot, my palm burning to a near excruciating pain, but I keep on. It’s shit like this that makes me want to stop doing these jobs. We have money for the rest of our lives; is it worth risking our lives every time?
Jaxon has something worth living for now. He has Quinn. When we all get back to the Cliff House, we need to have a pow wow because jobs like this shouldn’t be on our radar.
My hand lands on a leg, and I fumble my way up, trying to see if I can figure out who it is by their height, but all of us are well over six-feet, so the attempt is pointless. I grab ahold of the man’s face and shake him.
“I’m alive,” Grayson knocks my hand away. “Jesus, stop shaking me. My side is killing me.” His hand falls to the left side of his ribcage, pressing against the wound that oozes blood.
“Oh, fuck, Grayson.” This isn’t good. There is a piece of steel embedded in the space between his ribs and hip. I hover my hand over the metal, debating if I want to pull it free or not. If I do, it could risk Grayson bleeding out.
“That bad?” He lets out a languid chuckle.
“Worse.” I rub my palm over my face and my head swims. I need to get out of here before I pass out. The smoke and heat are getting to me. “Can you walk?”
“I think so. I need help up.”
I act as his crutch, taking most of this weight as I lift him up, using the strength in my legs.
Grayson grouses with pain and right as he stumbles, Owen is there to catch him. “You look like shit,” Owen teases.
“I look better than you,” Grayson jabs, his eyelids heavy with agony. “Have you found anyone else?” He hisses, reminding me of a snake as we walk through the maze of destruction.
“Heaven is in the van. We still need to find Jaxon,” Owen informs.
“He was next to me. When we flew backward in the air, he was right next to me. He must be close. You have to find him, for Quinn.”
“For us too.” I stop when we get to the door and looked over my shoulder to see another piece of the ceiling collapsing in a useless heap. “Can you handle taking him to the van? I need to look for Jaxon.”
“Yeah, I’ll be back in a minute,” Owen says. The big brute tightens his arm around Grayson and opens the door, sending a fresh wave of oxygen. While my lungs appreciate it, the fire inside sucks the air in and uses it as fertilizer to grow the flames. I suck in a fresh breath before the door shuts and run down the hall, back to the promise of death.
“Jaxon?” I roar, and a loose wire from the wall sparks, swinging through the air with dangerous intent.
Silence.