Fair Lakes Series Box Set - Kaylee Ryan Page 0,95

as realization sets in—that her friend slept with Chase.

“Why wouldn’t Chase remember her?” I wonder aloud.

Again, Gabby snorts in disbelief. “Are you kidding? That man sleeps with anything with a vagina. No way would he remember all of them, especially someone from seven years ago, during a night of drinking.”

My stomach clenches tightly, and this time, I’m unable to mask my discomfort. “Shit,” I groan, doubling over in pain.

“Gwen?” Gabby rushes to me and helps me sit on the couch. “I’m calling Harrison,” she adds, reaching for her phone.

“No, wait.” Deep breath, in and out. “I think you need to take me to the hospital.”

Everything happens quickly after that. My sister grabs my purse and my hand and leads me toward the passenger seat of my car. I keep my hands protectively around my stomach as she tears out of the driveway. “Gabby, slow down. You’re going to get pulled over.”

“You’re in labor, Gwenny. I don’t think I can do slow,” she replies, practically taking the corner on two wheels.

The moment we hit Main Street, traffic seems to slow down. It seems busier than usual, even more so than a Friday night, just after six o’clock. “What the heck?” I wonder out loud.

“There must be an accident,” Gabby says. “We’ll turn off up here.”

“It’s okay. I haven’t had any contractions in a few minutes. Maybe they’re false ones again,” I reason, wondering if I’m jumping the gun by going to the hospital. I’m not due for another week, so maybe these are just intense Braxton Hicks contractions, preparing me for what’s to come soon. I’m just about to tell her to turn around when I see smoke. “Something’s on fire.”

Gabby looks ahead. “God, I think it’s up by the gym.”

My heart starts to pound a bruising beat in my chest and my breathing is labored. Fear starts to creep up my neck, setting my nerves on edge. The gym takes up most of the block. There’s a bank and travel agency to the north, but that’s it. In my heart, I know. I know what I’m about to find isn’t going to be good. “Get us up there, Gabby,” I whisper, panic setting in as I think about something happening to Harrison.

“They’re rerouting traffic. We’re going to have to go on foot,” she says, turning off into a parking lot about a block away from the gym. “Let’s go,” she adds, the moment she stops haphazardly in a spot.

I’m out of my car much quicker than I would have anticipated. With my hand in hers, we practically run toward the gym. Two fire trucks are positioned in the street with their hoses running into the building my husband purchased and built into his livelihood. It’s dark, but the streetlights give just enough glow that I can see the damage inside.

“Hold it right there,” a fireman says, holding up his hands to keep us from proceeding any closer. “You have to back up behind the barricade.”

I just start to open my mouth when I see a familiar face. “Chase!” I yell, pulling the attention of our friend.

He runs over to where we stand, panic and relief mixing on his dirty face. “Jesus, Gwen, where in the fuck have you been?” he asks, pulling me into a tight hug.

“What? Where’s Harrison?” I glance over his shoulder, but don’t spot him anywhere.

“He went looking for you! You haven’t been answering your phone and he’s freaking out.”

“Oh, shit. My phone’s on vibrate in my purse,” I confess, instantly regretting the immature move of shutting off the ringer when I was mad. “He missed our appointment. I was upset,” I add, feeling horrible.

“He’s been going crazy,” Chase informs.

“I texted him and told him where she was,” Gabby adds.

“His phone broke. Everything’s gone to complete shit this afternoon,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck and glancing at the building.

Gabby steps up to Chase and throws her arms around his neck. If he’s startled by her sudden show of affection, he doesn’t show it. “What happened?” she asks as she pulls away.

“Everything,” he groans. “The phones went down first. They say someone cut our line and it’d take a few hours to get it back up and running. Then the computers. I’m pretty sure it was a virus. I had just checked Harrison’s schedule right before it happened because one of his clients needed to reschedule. It said your appointment was at four,” he says, but I interrupt.

“My appointment was at three. I watched him