Free Explosive by Beth Kery

orphan.
    But his pride twined with guilt, because Thomas knew the special relationship he shared with his father should have been reserved for Rick.
    For his real son.
    He’d hated the fact that two of the most important people in his life had been on the outs. He’d done whatever he could over the years to improve Joseph and Rick’s relationship.
    Now it was too late . . . too late for so much.
    Another car pulled into the dark, vacant lot. He stopped dead in his tracks when the vehicle headed straight toward him, holding his hand up to shield the bright headlights from his eyes.
    “Shit,” he muttered disbelievingly through stiff lips. Every muscle in his body tensed in preparation to dive when the car showed no sign of stopping.
    The wheels skidded in the gravel as the car came to an abrupt halt just feet away from where he stood. Someone—a woman—clambered out of the still-running vehicle. He blinked in amazement when he recognized Sophie Gable’s face.
    “What the hell—”
    “I’m sorry, Thomas. I . . . I had to come,” she said breathlessly. Her upswept hair had become partially unfastened. Had he done that during their heated lovemaking earlier? Her face looked entirely washed of color in the bright headlights.
    “Why? What’s wrong?” he asked slowly, still recovering from the unexpected sight of her. What the hell was she doing here ? Had she followed him? he wondered with rising suspicion.
    “Thomas . . . I . . . I was thinking that ...”
    “Yes?” he prompted when she licked her lips nervously and glanced around the empty parking lot. Her white throat convulsed.
    “I think it’d be a good idea for you to come with me. To Haven Lake?”
    “What? Now ?”
    He just stared at her in rising disbelief when she nodded her head soberly, as though his question had been entirely serious.
    An incredulous bark of laughter popped out of his throat. Before it’d cleared his lips entirely a flash of light caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. Both he and Sophie turned toward the warehouse. He saw a flickering, swelling, enormous gold and orange ball of fire through one of the windows. He cursed and reached for Sophie.
    A boom tore through the still summer night as he fell to the gravel, Sophie beneath him. He ducked his head, covering her and clenching his eyes as fragments of shattered glass fell around them. Sophie cried out. She wiggled beneath him, but he held her immobile. Thomas knew explosions like most people knew what to expect when their alarms went off in the morning.
    He knew explosions . . . and bombs.
    Sure enough, a second boom vibrated the air around them. A smoking, sizzling piece of metal girding clanked heavily just feet away from their heads.
    Thomas hissed and rose on his hands and knees. They needed to find cover. Flames surged out of the warehouse’s broken windows, licking hungrily at the rich oxygen source the outdoor air provided. A wave of heat struck his face like a slap.
    “Tuck your head into my chest,” he ordered as he lifted Sophie. Thankfully, she didn’t argue with him or choose that moment to ask questions. He crouched down over her, giving her the meager protection of his back, as he raced toward his car. The roar of leaping flames entered his ears. He whipped open the passenger door and set Sophie on her feet, placing his spread hand over her head in a protective gesture. It took him a moment to realize she was resisting him as he tried to push her into the seat.
    “No, Thomas. Let me go to my car. You have to follow me!”
    He yanked his gaze from the flaming building.
    “Forget about your damn car—” His sharp rebuke was cut short when he looked down the empty, darkened street. A block and a half away he saw movement. With the help of the dim street-lights he made out the outline of a man rushing toward them. The light was sufficient for him to catch a brief image of Agent Fisk’s face. Several car lengths away, another man was running toward