Melinda’s Wolves(87)

He thought she intended to fling herself into his arms, but at the last second, she stopped short, put out her fists, and beat his chest. “You bastard. How could you?” she screamed.

Stunned, Trace let her pummel him, unable to stop her, absorbing her anger. But why was it directed at him?

A woman Trace didn’t know came up behind and grabbed Melinda, wrapping her arms around Melinda’s waist and hauling her backward. “Get a grip, sweetie. Let the men work. They’re doing everything they can.”

Trace started to stand, but Melinda held out a hand over the arm wrapped around her middle. “Don’t fucking talk to me. Keep working.”

Trace turned back around. He scanned the area. There were far more people present than earlier. Sirens wailed in the vicinity. How had he not noticed them before? Several more lights had been erected to give the workers the illumination they needed to keep digging.

A large crane lowered into the middle of the pile and slowly lifted a heavy piece of concrete.

Dread and a sense of hopelessness filled Trace to the point he thought he might actually die.

This was bad. It had been hours. Too long to go without oxygen. Two more men were buried alive—Keegan was just one of them.

“Trace.” Mitch’s voice interrupted him as he stuck his hands back to the ground and pried away another board. “Trace. Look at me. You have to stop. You’re doing no one any good. Your hands are bleeding. You need to go comfort your mate. There are enough people working now. Go.”

Trace jerked his gaze to the side and glared at Mitch. “Never.” And he meant it. He wouldn’t stop working until Keegan’s body was pulled free of the rubble, alive or dead. And if the latter occurred, he didn’t think he’d ever truly be alive himself again.





Chapter Twenty-Four


Melinda struggled against the arms around her waist. She had no idea who held her, but she wanted to punch them.

“Sweetie, calm down.” A gentle hand wiped a lock of hair free of her face. The woman stepped backward, dragging Melinda with her. “Everyone is doing everything they can. You need to stay strong. Pull yourself together. For Keegan. And for Trace.” This last she added in a softer voice.

Melinda jerked her head around to face the stranger. “Who are you? How do you know anything about me?” She felt like she was drowning in quicksand, and the only person around to pull her out was this woman she’d never seen in her life who seemed to know more about Melinda than Melinda did.

“I’m Serena. You met my husband Monday. Mitch Highland. Keegan’s boss.”

Melinda turned to see Mitch working beside Trace.

“What happened?” she asked, calmer than she should feel.

“Scaffolding collapsed while Keegan and three others were on it inspecting a section of the framework.”

“God.” Melinda wiggled free, hardly in control of herself, but no longer a crazy threat to the men working all around her. “Why is there so much debris from the collapse of scaffolding?”

“The framework beneath it and all around it also fell, piling up on top of the men. It looks like some of the foundation collapsed too. That may have caused the domino effect.” Serena reached out a hand and wiped Melinda’s face.

Until that moment, Melinda hadn’t realized her face was soaked with tears. She had left work when she couldn’t take another minute of the unease and silence coming from her mates. It had been hours since she’d communicated with Keegan, and Trace had been evasive ever since. She’d given the two men guarding her the slip, exited out the back door, and run for her car.

It was a wonder she hadn’t crashed her car on her way to the site.

“What can I do? I can’t just stand here. I feel so helpless.” Melinda twisted around and lifted onto her tiptoes.

“Be here. That’s all you can do right now. Keep trying to communicate with Keegan and be present for Trace.”

Melinda shuddered. She’d been so mad at Trace. This was not his fault. That wasn’t why she was mad. She was furious with him for keeping her in the dark as if she wasn’t important enough to be informed of something this huge.

Honestly, she couldn’t imagine how she could ever forgive him for his choice to keep her uninformed. No matter what the outcome, a rift would hang between them. Would it be too wide to surpass?

Shouts came from the other side of the rubble. Paramedics raced to that section.

“I see a shoulder,” someone yelled.

Melinda held her breath. Please God, let it be Keegan. Please.

She dropped to her knees, her head bowed, her hair falling in front of her face. She couldn’t stand to watch.