“Okay, first, you need to know that Wade’s all right.”

She nearly dropped the phone. It was never good to begin the conversation with words like that. Because using first sure implied there was going to be a second that might not be so good.

“He’s in the hospital, St. Dominic’s, and he has a concussion, but the guy is tough as nails and he’ll be on his feet in no time.”

That was supposed to reassure her. “What happened?”

“The guy who took Molly set a trap for Sarah and Wade. The building they were searching—it exploded.”

OhmyGod. Her knees were feeling very jellylike. “They were in the building when it exploded?” She turned away from the terminal and began walking toward the exit. Her left hand curled around her bag.

“No, no¸ they hadn’t gone inside yet. It was a damn near thing.”

So Sarah and Wade had both nearly been blown to hell and back?

“But we’ve got a new lead on the perp. The search teams are going in now and we think we’ll find the girl.”

“Alive?” she forced herself to ask.

“She was alive just a few minutes ago,” Gabe said, his voice flat. “And we’re busting ass to get there now.”

She could hear voices talking behind him. Hear the wail of sirens.

The sliding doors at the airport’s exit opened for her.

“Viki, I just wanted to update you. I’ll call again when I think your plane has landed.”

“Forget that,” she told him bluntly. “I’ll be at the hospital with Wade. If you need me, you call.” Because she wasn’t going to run away when all hell was breaking loose on this case. She also wasn’t going to leave Wade on his own. He’d been there for her when she needed him.

It was time for her to return the favor.

Gabe ended the call, promising to update her.

Victoria lifted her hand. “Taxi!”

“JUST DROP ME off at the scene,” Sarah said, her gaze on the road. “I’ll join Gabe and the cops on the search. You don’t have to stay.”

He didn’t respond.

She glanced over at him. His hands were tight around the wheel. “Thanks for all you’ve done,” Sarah rushed to say. “And—”

“The guy wants you dead, Sarah. The last thing I’m going to do is leave you unprotected on that jerk’s turf.” He shook his head. “I’m not dropping and ditching you, that’s for sure. Consider me your personal guard.”

And he’d done it again. Surprised her. She just couldn’t get a handle on him. Everything she’d read in his background said he was dangerous. A man you didn’t want as an enemy. But he wasn’t an enemy or any threat to her. He was . . . a protector.

“How did you even get out of jail?” Sarah asked him as her brows snapped up. In all the chaos, she hadn’t even asked him. “I thought they were booking you for assault on Ron Tate.”

“Well, as for that . . .” He turned right and slanted a fast glance her way. “Seems that—before my lawyer even had the chance to throw his weight around—someone got the witness to recant her statement. Ella Jane pressed charges against Ron, and she said I was her hero.” His lips quirked in a faint smile. “I’m sure the cops nearly shit themselves at that, but she was singing my praises when I left the jail.”

And he was a free man.

Sarah considered him. He hadn’t fought the cops at all when he’d been taken back to holding. In fact, he’d almost seemed . . . pleased . . . with the situation. In his mocking I’m-Jax-Fontaine-kiss-my-ass way. “You wanted to go back to lockup, didn’t you? So that you could talk with Eddie?” If she looked deep enough, she could almost see the layers this man possessed.

“Yeah, about that . . .” He expelled a quick breath. “What with the explosion and psycho calling, I didn’t get to tell you sooner, but Eddie Guthrie is in the hospital. The guy you’re looking for—I think he pumped the kid with drugs, then sent him your way.”

Sarah’s cheeks felt too hot, then icy cold. “I . . . I thought he was a user.” Longtime, an addict.

“First-timer, unless I’m wrong. Not usually wrong, though. Not about that. I’ve seen too many drug heads in my time.”

She wasn’t usually wrong, either . . . but . . . Did I miss this? That wasn’t like her. Her fingers fiddled with her seat belt.

“He’s on a bad trip. The guy was convulsing the last time I saw him.”

Her fingers stilled. “Will he make it?”

“The medics were coming in so I hope they got him stable but . . . the guy was a weapon. Drug him, aim him, and fire him—”

“At me,” Sarah finished. Because that was exactly what the man out there had done. Dear old dad had sure made plenty of enemies. Enemies that wouldn’t stop climbing out of the woodwork.

And the worst part was . . . she understood exactly why they hated her father. Why they hated her.

Some days, Sarah hated herself.

She looked down at her left wrist. The scar was there, a stark reminder of all the things she could never forget.

What did you do to yourself, Sarah? Her father’s words whispered through her mind. She’d been in the bathroom, slumped near the toilet. Her father had come into the room, and fear—actual fear—had flashed in his eyes. Blood had pooled around her and the razor—his razor—had been on the floor near her hip. It had fallen from her shaking fingers when she’d tried to slice the veins in her right hand. My fingers had been too weak to do the job. Because I’d cut my left wrist too deeply. Those fingers had stopped working.

And she hadn’t been able to finish the job.

I’ll take care of you. He’d promised her that. You’ll be as good as new.

But she wasn’t good. She wasn’t new. She’d never been the same after her sixteenth birthday. Because on that date, life had changed. She’d—

Police lights appeared on the street to the left. A fast swirl of blue.

“I guess we found the party,” Jax murmured.

Yes, they had. The cop cars were rushing down the street and she knew the police would be setting up a search perimeter.

Jax braked to a stop, and they hurried to join the group. Gabe saw them, and he waved them over. Dean was with him and Dean’s fiancée, Emma Castille, was at his side. Emma’s long, dark, flowing hair was pulled back and her hoop earrings swayed lightly with her movements. When she saw Jax, her bright blue eyes widened. “Jax, what are you doing here?” she asked him, and Emma immediately put her hand on Jax’s shoulder.

Sarah stiffened. She knew that Emma and Jax had been lovers, but that had been a long time ago. Right? Emma was . . . the woman was great. A wonderful new addition to LOST and a woman who actually seemed to understand Sarah.

Sarah shouldn’t . . .

. . . be wanting to rip Emma’s hand off Jax.

Ah, so this was what jealousy felt like. Sarah decided she didn’t like it—and she didn’t have time for it. Not then. Not when Molly was waiting.

But she did remove Emma’s hand, and Sarah said bluntly, “He’s helping on this case.”

“Uh, yes, okay . . .” Emma’s gaze swept from Sarah to Jax. “But it’s a crime scene, and Jax doesn’t exactly get along with cops.”

“They need as much help on this search as they can get,” Sarah said. That was sure the truth. They had a big search area, and they needed to move. “If they question us, just tell them Jax is with our team.”

“Then we might all get our asses thrown out of here,” Dean Bannon murmured as he cast a considering glance Jax’s way. Dean and Jax didn’t exactly get along. Mostly because of that whole Jax-and-Emma past thing. Right then, Sarah could understand where Dean was coming from with his jealousy but—

“A woman is hurt and she needs us.” Sarah straightened her shoulders. Personal shit had to wait. “We have to find her, now.” Because it wasn’t like the perp would miss the swarm of police out there.

Detective West and Detective Cross hurried toward them. Cross frowned at Jax, but before the detective could do anything like, oh, order Jax off the scene, Jax said, “You need to be searching the buildings that are directly beside the water.”