“s**t,” I hissed as I looked at the clock.
When I last glanced to the lower right of the screen, the morning sun was bouncing off the window from the other tower, but now the sun was streaming in the window. My blood went cold. I was supposed to put out the fires, then head to Natasha’s, but at almost five in the afternoon, I began to wonder if I would still be welcome.
After a half second of thought, I picked up my phone and my heart dropped at the two text messages I’d missed.
Are you on your way?—Natasha
Please call me. I just want to know you’re okay.—Natasha
The second one was an hour old.
Work had once again taken me from Natasha, and I knew someday she wouldn’t be as understanding. In fact, I was pretty certain if I wanted her to open the door, because calling or texting was n
