Page 98 of Blake

Residents gathered along the sidewalk, some in their pajamas and slippers.

Blake guided her away from the doors. “I’m going to call Emmett.”

Devon nodded, clutching Willow’s carrier as he pulled out his phone. She watched as he put a hand to his free ear in an attempt to hear Emmett better.

She tapped him on the shoulder. When he looked her way, she pointed to a spot on the sidewalk not far from where they stood. It was clear of other people and would probably make it easier for Blake and his teammate to have their conversation.

“Don’t move from this spot.” He gave her a pointed look.

“I won’t.”

She watched as he walked away.

He wasn’t far. Ten feet to her left. Maybe twelve. Either way, Devon felt okay staying put. The less jostling Willow had to deal with, the better all their lives would be.

She glanced down at the carrier in her hand and grinned. “I know, Willow Bear. Don’t worry. Hopefully this will all be over soon.”

The cat probably couldn’t hear her, and even if she did, it’s not like she’d understand a word Devon was saying. But it made Devon feel better.

“Ma’am, we need everyone to move farther back.”

She turned as a firefighter approached from her right. “Okay.” She glanced at the crowd behind him.

“This way.” The man gestured toward the side of the building.

Devon looked at the crowd again. Other residents were being directed toward the opposite sidewalk, across the street.

“Shouldn’t we go there?”

“Secondary evacuation area,” the firefighter replied. “Too many people to put you all in one spot, so it’s divide and conquer.”

Devon looked at Blake, who was speaking urgently into his phone.

“Blake?”

The firefighter stepped closer. “Ma’am, we really need to move. Now.”

“Just one second,” she promised before attempting to catch Blake’s attention again. “Hey, Blake! They need us to move to a different area.”

A gloved hand closed around Devon’s upper arm. Pain shot through her injured shoulder.

“Hey!” She jerked back. “Let go!”

Blake turned as the firefighter’s grip tightened. The uniformed man started to pull her away, and when he shifted his stance, she saw it.

Beneath the partially open front of his bulky turnout coat, tucked against his waistband, was the unmistakable black grip of a handgun.

Her blood turned cold.

Firefighters don’t carry guns.

They also didn’t manhandle people they’d sworn to protect.

“Blake!” Devon shouted. “He has a gun!”

Everything happened at once.

Blake dropped his phone and reached for his weapon. The man yanked Devon backward, trapping her back against his chest. Willow’s carrier slipped from her hand and struck the pavement. The frightened cat howled from inside.