Anchor

Chapter 3

Gabriel

One minute I have the phone in my hand and the next I'm diving at Tyler's cruiser, trying to wrestle the keys out of his hand. Tunnel vision blocks out everything but the result: get to my daughter.

I don't have time for obstacles. Tyler and I have been friends for a long time, I smash my fist into his face when he tackles me to the ground. I feel no pain, but I hear the crack of bone against bone. His mouth is moving, but I can't hear over the ringing in my ears.

We tumble over the scorching blacktop until Tyler manages to pin me down. The asphalt burns the exposed skin on my back and arms, but I ignore it and focus on getting his bulk off of me.

"Calm down, goddammit!" he shouts in my face. "Christ, Gabe, listen to me!"

"I swear to fucking God, Ty, if you don't get off me right now I'll do something we'll both regret."

His meaty arms wrap around my neck and he holds me down in an effective—and irritating—chokehold. "I said, listen."

"Fuck!" My voice is hoarse from the pressure of his forearm against my throat. "All right, say what you're going to say so I can go, but hurry the fuck up about it."

Tyler studies me. "If I let you up are you going to sucker punch me again?"

"I'm not gonna make any promises," I say.

He spits out a mouthful of blood on the concrete next to me. "Fair enough."

He gets to his feet and helps me up. A crowd of officers press in around us, but Tyler waves them away. He pulls me to the open door of his cruiser and shoves me into the driver's seat. "There's a gunman with an estimated ten to fifteen hostages on the ferry, but your daughter is safe."

A wave of welcome relief crashes over me. The allaying of guilt and fear is so monumental, betraying tears sting my eyes. Tyler presses a hand to my shoulder until I suck it up. When I speak, my voice is still hoarse, though not from Tyler's very effective methods of restraint. "Where is she?"

"She's at the hospital with Taylor."

Guilt assaults me again because I didn't even think about her. What kind of fucking man am I? "Is—" my throat closes around the words. "Is Taylor okay?"

Tyler nods. "She's fine. Little bump on the head, possible concussion, but otherwise, she and Emily are very lucky. Get in the car. They'll fly us over so you can see her."

I slide across the bench seat to the passenger side and Tyler follows me. The air inside the car is too cool and I shiver even though it's gotta be a hundred degrees outside. "Explain."

Tyler shifts with ease and backs out of the parking lot, tires squealing. "There isn't much information as the story is still developing. All we know is an armed man boarded the ferry about a half hour ago. There was a struggle and Taylor was thrown off the dock. She hit her head on the way down."

"Jesus Christ," I bite out.

"Two witnesses say another woman shielded Emily from the perp. They say she saved her from becoming a hostage."

We make it across the island in record time. Rockaway isn't big to begin with, but Tyler breaks every speed limit on the way to the small helipad we have for emergencies. He doesn't bother parking in the designated spots and we dash out of the car to the waiting pilot.

"You Gabriel Rossi?" he asks. I nod and he gestures to the back, "Get in."

Tyler follows close behind me, but as soon as we get in, I focus on the space in front of us and he fades to my periphery, im-fucking-patient to get to my daughter.