Arthur had barely pulled Miranda to safety when the harsh screech of tires cut through the chaos. Miranda’s body tensed instinctively after yesterday’s attack. Nolan’s car slammed to a stop, the door flying open before the engine died. He emerged like a storm, his dark eyes immediately finding Miranda where she sat on the concrete with Arthur hovering protectively nearby. Ben stepped out behind him.
Fury radiated from Nolan as he surveyed the debris scattered across the sidewalk. “What the hell happened here?”
Arthur rose to his feet. “Concrete block,” he gestured to the shattered pieces, “came down from above. Nearly took Miss Holden’s head off. I got them both clear, but they hit the ground hard.”
At least she still had a head attached to her shoulders. A direct hit would have been fatal.
Nolan’s jaw worked as his gaze swept over Miranda’s form, cataloging every scrape and bruise. “Where are you hurt?”
He moved straight to her while Ben vanished into the building.
