Wet (Elemental 1) (20 page)

But that was before the fire.

Brooke’s outgoing message was playing in his ear for the
second time, and Blake cursed as he ended the call, not bothering to leave
another message. It wasn’t like her to ignore her phone when she wasn’t
working, but he knew she hadn’t been scheduled for that night.
Maybe she picked up a shift last-minute.
At the moment, he had no way of knowing. All he could do was hope.

Blake pulled to a stop along the curb barely a block from
her complex. He cut the engine and climbed from his car even as the police
officer he’d parked behind turned and started toward him. He recognized the man
immediately, and after a beat, he looked past him toward the fire. He had
really been hoping Dean had been exaggerating.

“Blake,” the officer called, coming to stand in front of
him. “I’m afraid you have to stand back.”

Forcing his jaw to unlock, and hoping his tone was civil,
Blake replied, “Yeah, I know. How bad is it?”

The officer turned toward the blaze.

The fire wasn’t quite under control yet, despite the
numerous firetrucks and firefighters clogging the road just ahead. Flames still
licked sporadically out a couple of windows, and thick, black smoke polluted
the air above them. From where the two men were standing, it was obvious which
apartment had been at the center of the blaze, and fortunately, it seemed to be
the only apartment completely decimated.

But it was Brooke’s apartment. The sight of the structure
charred, destroyed, and still burning made Blake’s stomach churn violently. He
wanted to find and beat the person responsible about as badly as he wanted to
throw up.

The police officer cleared his throat and looked back at
Blake. “You can see for yourself the apartment’s a total loss.” He paused, and
the look in his eyes told Blake that he had an idea of why Blake was there.
“Dean went through it himself, and he said no one was there.”

The first flicker of relief ignited in Blake’s heart, and
he released a heavy breath.

The officer waited long enough to see that his words had
sunk in before continuing. “We’ve evacuated the front half of the complex. It
doesn’t look like Ms. Munroe was anywhere around when the fire started.”

Blake’s gaze trailed away from the apartment, settling on
the blown-out heap that had most likely once been Brooke’s car. It was obvious
that the fire had spread from the apartment, covering the short distance
between her front wall and her car.

“We matched the license plate to her car,” the officer
said, seeing where Blake’s attention had gone. “Wherever she is, she clearly
didn’t drive there. Have you tried calling her?”

“Yeah,” Blake replied slowly. “She’s not answering.”

Chapter Twenty

The officer frowned, but Blake’s attention had once again
been pulled away. Dean had spotted them and was making his way over,
frustration curving his lips in a fierce scowl.

When he reached them, Dean dropped a hand on the officer’s
shoulder. “You mind if I take over?”

The officer nodded and quietly walked away, toward a group
of observing civilians across the street.

“She wasn’t home?” Blake asked immediately, his voice tight
and strained. He wasn’t sure he could believe it until his brother confirmed
it.

Dean nodded shortly. “The apartment was empty. It’s a
disaster inside, though. There isn’t anything the fire didn’t get.”

Blake swallowed heavily and let his gaze return to the
building. “Better the apartment, and the car, than her.”

“I don’t disagree,” Dean said somberly. “Have you gotten a
hold of her?”

“No. I left her a message, and I called twice, but
nothing.”

Dean’s scowl deepened. “Is she working?”

“She wasn’t scheduled to,” Blake said. “I think I’m going
to head over there and double check, though. It’s not like her to ignore my
calls.” He paused, knowing he had to ask the question, and equally as certain
he already knew the answer. “How did this happen?”

Dean’s voice was low and angry, his own eyes now focused on
the lingering flames and billowing smoke. “Some sort of electrical fire,” he
said. “Started in the living room. Near as I can tell, something hot and live
hit the electrical socket. The rest is history.”

“Something like lightning?” Blake asked unnecessarily. Even
Dean wouldn’t be able to know with absolute certainty, but lightning was more
likely than someone sticking a stun-gun into the outlet.

“Exactly,” Dean replied.

Blake dragged in a breath and nodded again. Looking back to
his brother, he said, “Thanks for calling me. I’m going to try to find Brooke,
but…”

Dean forced a bitter smile. “If she comes home, I’ll have
her call you. And, uh, speaking of calling … you mind calling the family? I
haven’t exactly had the chance.”

“Sure,” Blake agreed. “Thanks.”

Dean turned and began walking back toward the apartment as
Blake returned to his car. Blake wasted no time cranking the engine over,
barely remembering to tug his seat belt into place as he made his first call.
He talked to his father, giving him the short version, before calling Logan—and
then Nate—and repeating the story. Logan offered to drive around and help look
for Brooke, an offer Blake wasn’t stubborn enough to turn down.

He decided to call Brooke again, just to be safe. It rang
four times before going to voicemail. He opted not to leave another message.

He’d barely disconnected the call when he pulled into the
diner’s parking lot. Since her car had been home, he was fairly certain she
wasn’t there. But maybe Georgia was, and maybe Georgia would know where to find
her. It was that possibility that had him swinging into the first available
spot, not bothering to correct his parking job before he got out of the car.

It was an effort to keep his building panic off his face as
he entered the diner, but he didn’t want to cause a scene. Taking a deep
breath, he stepped up to the front counter, but he wasn’t able to offer Shelly
any kind of a smile. “Do you know if Brooke’s here?”

Shelly’s smile faltered. She hesitated, glancing at a paper
he couldn’t see. “Um, she’s not listed. But I can grab Paula if you want…?”

“Please,” he said. Later, he might feel guilty about
confusing or worrying Brooke’s coworkers, most of whom he’d known for years.
But right now he simply didn’t care.

Shelly nodded and turned, quickly moving further into the
diner. She wasn’t gone long, and Paula was leading the way when she returned.
Paula’s expression bespoke curious confusion, but no concern. Clearly word had
not reached Earl’s that one of their employees was now homeless.

“Blake?” Paula asked, coming to a stop in front of him.
“Shelly tells me you’re looking for Brooke?”

“Yeah,” Blake replied with a short nod. “I know she wasn’t
scheduled to be working tonight, but she’s not at home and she’s not answering
her cell. Do you know where she might be?”

Paula slowly shook her head, her curiosity beginning to
give way to worry. “I don’t, sweetie. I wasn’t expecting to see her before
tomorrow afternoon.”

“Is Georgia on tonight?” Blake asked, falling back to plan
B.

“No,” Paula replied. Something lit up her eyes, and she
added, “But I just remembered, it’s Georgia’s birthday. She took the whole day
off—she does every year—so you might find Brooke at her place.”

Hope bubbled inside him, and Blake released a breath.
“Okay,” he said. “Could I get an address? Or a phone number?”

Paula hesitated even as Shelly reached for a piece of paper
and a pen. “What’s the emergency?”

It was Blake’s turn to hesitate, though he knew it was
pointless. He was honestly amazed she didn’t already know. “Her apartment …
caught fire,” he said carefully. “I know she wasn’t home when it happened, but
I haven’t been able to reach her.”

Shelly had frozen, hand poised over the paper, and Paula’s
eyes were wide with shock. “My goodness,” Paula murmured. “Well, when you find
that girl, you tell her not to worry about working the rest of the weekend.
She’s got other things to worry about right now.”

“Here you go,” Shelly said, holding out the paper.
“Georgia’s address and cell phone number. I hope you find Brooke.”

Blake took the paper and nodded again. “Me, too. Thanks.”
He left without another word, ignoring the stares of the two women behind him.

He had the address memorized by the time he’d buckled
himself back into his car, and in no time he was on the road once more.
Please let her be there
. He still didn’t
know why she wasn’t answering her phone, but he was willing to forgive that
entirely as long as she was all right. If she wasn’t, he didn’t know what he’d
do.

****

“And the word is,” Emma began, pausing dramatically as her
eyes lifted from the card in her hand and she smiled. “Delicious!
Mouth-watering, scrumptious, or luscious.” She leaned forward and set the card
in the center of the circle so that everyone could see it.

“If anyone has the ‘Georgia’ card,” Georgia began with a
laugh, “you can play it now and automatically win.” Laughter greeted her
declaration as each of the other players examined their options. Georgia ran
her new press-on nails over the cards in her hand before carefully pulling one
free and setting it, face down, beside Emma’s.

One by one, Brooke and the other participants placed their
own cards on or around Georgia’s. When the last card was in place, Emma reached
out and gathered the face-down cards. Emma was still going through the
offerings when someone knocked loudly on the front door.

The group paused, startled, before exchanging curious
looks.

“You didn’t order strippers, did you?” Emma asked with a
grin as she looked over at Georgia.

Georgia rolled her eyes and pushed to her feet, saying, “I
wouldn’t do something like that!” With a wink, she added, “At least not when my
boyfriend was home!”

The girls laughed as Georgia’s live-in boyfriend stood as
well and put a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll get it, babe. Keep playing.”

As he turned to slip from the room, Georgia’s older sister
hollered, “Bring me another beer on your way back!”

Georgia reclaimed her seat and waved her hands in a
simmer-down gesture. “Okay, okay, let’s get back to business here. Have I won
yet?”

Emma returned her attention to the cards, paused, and said,
“Well, the answer to that all depends … if you’re the one who threw Luke
Skywalker at me, then no, you did not win.” As she spoke, she tossed the
aforementioned card from her hand.

“Oh, come on!” the girl to Emma’s immediate left exclaimed
as the card landed on the discard pile. “He was cute!”

Laughter interrupted whatever else she might have said, and
it was several seconds before Emma could speak over them again. “Who wants to
see the next loser?” Emma called with a smirk. The girls quieted, and she
opened her mouth again, reaching for another card, but again she was
interrupted.

“Uh, Brooke?” Georgia’s boyfriend said, standing in the
entry to the den. They looked at him, and he jerked his thumb over his
shoulder. “Your boyfriend’s here for you. He says it’s important.”

The laughter faded, and Georgia looked over at her friend.
Brooke shrugged as she stood, hoping her instant worry didn’t show on her face.
She couldn’t think of many
good
reasons why he would have tracked
her down, especially without calling.
Or
did I miss a call?
She patted her pocket for her cell phone as she stepped
from the room. It was only then that she realized her phone wasn’t in her
pocket at all.

She decided finding her phone wasn’t her priority and
continued down the hall, rounding the corner that led to Georgia’s living room
and entry. As she passed the small kitchen, she realized where her phone was—in
her purse, which was still resting on the counter.
I probably
did
miss a call,
she reflected with a guilty wince. But there was no time to dwell on it,
because Blake was already in sight.

Worry shrouded his face, fading his eyes and tightening his
jaw. That worry edged away visibly when he saw her, and her guilt intensified.
Something had happened, and he’d been worried, but she had stupidly forgotten
to remove her phone from her purse and therefore hadn’t heard it ring over the
music and laughter.

“Blake,” she began when she reached him. She’d meant to say
more, but as soon as she was within arm’s reach, he pulled her into a tight
embrace, and her breath caught in her throat. He’d been
really
worried.

He said nothing for a long moment, holding her close and
breathing deeply. With every second that passed, Brooke cursed herself for
worrying him so much. She could feel the tension in his body—tension that
wasn’t leaving very quickly.

“Blake,” Brooke said again, whispering this time and not
trying to break his hold. “I’m sorry. I think I left my phone in my purse. What
happened?” She was on the verge of tears and she didn’t even really know why.
And that was her fault.

Slowly, Blake released her. He met her gaze and swallowed
heavily. She wasn’t going to like his answer. “It’s okay,” he began, hedging.
“I’m just glad you’re all right. But … I have bad news.”

Brooke drew in a slow breath, knowing it must be pretty bad
if he was stalling so blatantly. Her brain was still functioning enough for her
to hold up a hand before he could say more, and she quietly said, “Let’s step
outside first.”

Silently they moved back to the front porch of Georgia’s
apartment, and Brooke pulled the door closed behind her. She turned back to
face him then, but said nothing.

“There … was a fire,” Blake said carefully. “It started in
your apartment. By the time the firefighters got there, there wasn’t much they
could do. Your car was still there, so they looked for you, and when you didn’t
answer your phone I checked in at the diner, and Paula led me here.”

Brooke was breathless again, but for an entirely new
reason.
My … apartment?
She’d been
happy in that small, out-of-the-way apartment. She’d been planning on living
there until she had a reason to need a bigger place. It was comfortable. And
now it was gone. All she had was her car, and whatever was in the trunk—she
hoped. “What about … my car?”

Blake slowly shook his head. “It got caught in the fire.”
He paused. “Why was it not with you?”

“Emma offered to give me a ride,” Brooke explained numbly.
Her breath stalled somewhere in her throat. She should have at least driven
herself. If she had—

That settled it, then. She had nothing left. The clothes on
her back, the money in her purse, her cell phone—which would need to be charged
soon, and she no longer had a charger—and nothing else. She’d been without a
family for several years, and without a reliable roof for most of those years,
too. But she’d never been truly homeless. She couldn’t exactly afford to live
out of a hotel for however long it would take to find a new apartment. She
really didn’t want to have to drop out of school and move back in with her
adopted family.

She had no idea what she was going to do.

“I’m sorry,” Blake said softly.

Brooke blinked, re-focused her attention on the present,
and shifted to let herself slump against the outer wall of the entryway.
“Everything,” she mumbled disbelievingly. She shook her head, looking back at
him. “There must be something that survived, right?”

“Dean didn’t seem to think so,” Blake admitted.

Brooke groaned and lifted a hand to her forehead, her eyes
squeezing shut. “I can’t believe this … I don’t know what I should do!” Those
tears were back behind her eyes, and for a moment she focused entirely on
fighting them back.
Crying won’t help
anyway.
It was her old childhood mantra. It’d been a long time since she’d
needed it, but she needed it now. She needed the strength she’d found when
she’d realized she had no one to rely on.

A strong, steady hand landed on her shoulder, and the
burning faded as her eyes snapped open. She found herself staring into Blake’s
intense, guilty, concerned blue eyes, and a bit of the weight that had settled
over her heart slid off. She may have lost her possessions, and her home, but
she wasn’t alone this time. And that was something.

“I’ll help you through this,” Blake said firmly. It wasn’t
a tone to be argued with, or an offer he would easily allow her to refuse.

Without warning, a single tear escaped and slid down her
cheek. Brooke swallowed past the painful lump in her throat as she nodded. She
couldn’t speak. She was afraid she’d break down if she attempted to make a
sound. But Blake seemed to understand. He moved closer, pulling her to him once
again.