Light up the Night (Firehouse Three #2)(58)

“Waitagoddamnminute. You ruined my best friend’s charity event?” Jesse’s normally genial expression was clouded with bloodlust. Even Hunter took a step back, his arm falling from her shoulders.

Realization crested over Drake. That golf tournament, the one that the malicious online reviews had wrecked, had been all Belinda’s doing. Everly had been convinced that the reviews were just a malicious prank, and the fact that the tournament had crashed because of them was terrible coincidence. But knowing Belinda was behind it made a lot of sense, in a sick kind of way. Though he was dying to, Drake didn’t even need to lift a finger to defend Everly this time. He’d let Jesse handle it.

Belinda, obviously not seeing the trouble she was in, sneered at Jesse. “It was easy. I’ve got connections, and the bitch deserved it for daring to take my—”

Belinda couldn’t finish her sentence, because Jesse’s fist was in the way. Belinda hit the ground like a sack of flour, stunned and moaning, hands clapped to her face.

“Stay the hell away from my family,” Jesse said, her breath coming fast as she glared down at Belinda.

“I’ve always wanted to do that, but it went against the grain to hit a woman, even one like Bitcherella.” Hunter’s face glowed with excitement and love as he high-fived Jesse. “You’re my f*cking hero.”

As he bent Jesse backward and kissed her full on the mouth, Drake stalked back into his hospital room.

He ripped the IV from his arm, grunting as the catheter left his vein. Stuffing the fabric of his hospital gown against the wound to stop the bleeding, he hit the nurse call button.

“Can I help you?”

“I’m getting dressed and leaving right now. Get me whatever I need to sign, but I’ve got to be in the parking lot within ten minutes.”

“Sir, your doctor hasn’t released—”

“If you don’t want to document the fact that I just walked out of here with no warning, you’ll prep what you need to prep,” he said, shucking his gown and reaching for the plastic bag marked “Patient Belongings” on the seat of the green plastic armchair.

“Yes, sir,” the voice said, decidedly less friendly that time.

Wincing, he pulled his stained work pants up over his thighs. His fingers were still on the zipper when Hunter and a dazed-looking Jesse came into the room.

“Packing up?” Hunter grunted.

“Yep,” Drake grunted, pulling the Firehouse Three shirt over his head. “I’m going after her.” He looked over at Jesse as he turned his socks right side out. “Where would she go?”

Jesse shrugged. “Not her parents’ place. They’d want to know what was wrong. Either home or the shelter.”

Drake tugged on his boots, one after the other, making deft work of the knots. He thought about Everly. She was not the type to wallow. Distraction. She’d be all about the distraction right now until the feelings had calmed enough for her to focus on the problem.

“Hunter,” he said, wincing as he stood. “I need a ride to the shelter.”

“I’ll be happy to haul your sorry ass,” Hunter said as a nurse came in with a clipboard and a frown.

Drake was ready to flip the damn bed over by the time the nurse got through scolding him about leaving before the doctor released him. Eventually, though, they had no choice but to let him sign on the “it’s not our f*cking fault you’re a moron” line and let him hobble out on his own two feet.

He considered the cane they’d left in the room to assist him in getting to the bathroom as fair recompense for having to listen to the nurse’s lectures. Besides, it wasn’t like they weren’t going to charge his insurance triple the price for it anyway.

“It’s on Ashland, right?”

“Yeah,” Jesse said from the backseat.

The miles seemed to go by so slowly. Too slowly. Drake was about to jump out of his skin by the time they neared Hopeful Paws.

The front parking lot was empty, and Hunter pulled straight up to the front doors. Drake got out and pulled on the handle, but it just clacked and didn’t budge.

“It’s Sunday,” Jesse said through the rolled-down window. “They’re closed.”

Drake pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed. Everly’s voicemail kicked in. The sick feeling in his guts was getting sicker and sicker.

Stay calm. She’s reasonable. You can explain and everything will be fine.

So why was a cold sweat breaking out down his spine?

“Jesse, she’s not answering. You try.”

Hunter exited his Jeep and started to walk around the building while Jesse walked up beside Drake and reached into her pocket for her phone. She paused in mid-motion.

“I forgot. Her phone fell in the lake last night. It’s dead.”

“Shit,” Drake said. “And the rescue phones are turned off when they aren’t there, right?”

Jesse’s nod brought a fresh round of cursing from him.

“Hey, Drake,” Hunter said, poking his head around the far corner of the building. “Jesse’s pickup’s back here.”

Rounding the building, Drake saw exactly why Hunter’s expression was somber. Jesse’s pickup was parked across two spaces, the wheels cranked hard to the left as if Everly hadn’t cared enough to straighten them out and just killed the engine where the thing landed.