by Starling,Amy
I punched the gas to avoid stopping at that red light. “Just 'cause you're married now, I guess that makes you the expert on this stuff.”
“Ask Max. He'll tell you the same thing.”
“Yeah, and look what happened to him. He used to be the biggest playboy partier of us all. Probably spent half his paycheck on lap dances, weed, and booze. Now he's living in Bastrop, shacked up with his wife in the country hours away, and we hardly ever see him.”
“He's happier now than he ever was. He grew up.” Jayce stared blankly out the window. “We all have to eventually. Don't you get bored chasing girls?”
“Nope. And if you hadn't fallen head over heels for Elle, I doubt you'd have gotten bored of it either.”
“How do you know the right girl won't have the same effect on you?”
His question made me nervous. The very thought of falling in love terrified me – because that had happened once before, and all I got out of it in the end was heartbreak.
Madison was special, but so what? She was just another woman in a sea of thousands of others. If she didn't want me, then fine. I'd find someone else who did.
But even as I thought it, I already knew it was a lie.
Chapter 6 - Madison
Those words, soulless yet full of hatred, kept replaying in my mind.
This arsonist was sick in the head. Most of them probably were, but this? The note, the covering his tracks... It was almost the same behavior you'd expect out of a serial killer.
It was the day after we'd found the warning letter at Twinkles. I'd showed the paper to the staff, including the manager, Toby, but they all claimed never to have seen it before. I doubted any of them were lying.
I dusted the paper for fingerprints right away, but wasn't surprised when I found none. A guy this clever likely wore gloves. How in the hell were we going to catch him?
“Mad, you're getting way too skinny! You work so much, you don't make time to eat.”
Jenna, my roommate and little sister, burst into my office holding a paper sack. The odor of fryer grease and burgers made me kind of queasy.
“Here.” She plopped it onto my desk. “I knew you forgot to pack a lunch again, so I grabbed you some food on the way to school.”
“Thanks, I guess.” I peered into the bag. “But you know I'm trying to cut down on fried foods.”
She scoffed. “You're so uptight. What's the point of life if you don't live it a little?”
“I can live just fine without fast food.” I gobbled a french fry with a sigh. “Besides, I don't have time to eat. I'm trying to figure out a case.”
She got very excited. “Ooh, what is it? Is there a crazed murderer running around town? Jail break? Police chase?”
“That this kind of thing interests you so much is a bit disconcerting, Jen.”
“You're so lucky. Your job is much more fun than listening to boring lectures all day – and then serving food to irate asshole customers after that.”
I patted her hand. “I wouldn't call a lot of this 'fun.' And being a waitress sounds like a real adventure.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. I like to compare my shift with walking through hell. My boss is Satan, and the customers are a bunch of soul-sucking demons.”
“You honestly worry me sometimes.”
She pleaded with me again to tell her about the case, but I couldn't be honest with her.
Yes, she was an adult now. Nearly twenty years had passed since our house was destroyed in that blaze. I got over the trauma by shutting my emotions down and sort of acting like it never happened; or that's what the therapist told me, anyway.
But Jenna never quite healed from it. She was four years old when it happened. So young, so innocent. The blaze didn't hurt her physically, but it scarred her in other, more insidious ways.
So great was her fear of the flames, she avoided fireplaces and wouldn't stand near the grill at cookouts. If I told her there was an arsonist in town, she'd be petrified.
No, I would keep my mouth shut for her sake until this guy was caught.
“Come on, Mad! Who died? I can totally deal with it.”
“No one died,” I snapped. Not yet. “It's just... related to that gang shootout from the other night.”
She squeezed my arm hard. “Oh, I can't believe you got rescued by Brett Silver. He's so hot, he could be a movie star.”
And yet, for some reason, he chose to pursue me. He kissed me.
His pushiness annoyed me, but I would be lying if I didn't admit maybe I wanted more.
“He kind of asked me out,” I confessed. “He's not the kind to take no for an answer.”
She squealed. “Holy crap, tell me you said yes!”
“He's... not good for me.”
“Who cares if he's 'good' for you? I bet he's amazing in the sack.”
“Why am I having this discussion with my little sister?” I shoved her off my desk. “You're going to be late to school.”
“I don't get it. Why do you have to be such a prude?” She threw a bunch of fries into her mouth. “There's nothing wrong with sleeping with a guy just for fun. Hell, if he asked me...”
“That's quite enough, thank you.”
Honestly, I considered myself far from being a prude. I had a bit of a kinky streak, actually. But that wasn't a part of me I'd ever share with a one-night stand.
That side of me was a secret. I'd never actually trusted any man enough to show him who I truly was between the sheets.
Maybe someday, with some luck, I'd meet my match.
Obviously, Brett wasn't him. Yes, he made me tremble with the slightest touch and had me wanting him with just a few words. But he was dangerous, and getting tangled up with him was stupid.
I squirmed, horny again just from thinking about it. Okay,maybe it wouldn't hurt to sleep with him once, to get it out of my system.
He was gorgeous. I wondered what he looked like under his clothes...
“All right, guess I'd better get moving or Mr. Harrison will bitch at me for being late.” She headed for the door then paused. The cheery smile faded from her face. “Hey, you know Friday is Charlie's birthday.”
“I know. We'll light a candle for him, just like we always do.”
She left my office with tears in her eyes. Charlie was our brother, but the two of them had always been closest. When he ran away from home at age sixteen, after dad tried to have him committed in the psych ward, it devastated her. It hurt me too, but in my usual way, I kept it bottled up inside.
We'd tried looking for Charlie for years, but couldn't find out a lick of information about him. I'd hoped the police databases might yield something; he'd long been a troublemaker, scoffing at laws as though they didn't apply to him.
But no matter how many times I searched, there was nothing.
At this point, all we could do was give him up as dead.
A rapping on my wall woke me from my dreary thoughts. Victor stood there, smiling in his creepy way.
“So I hear you've found something for me. Let's hear it. I'm a busy guy and I haven't got all day.”
I showed him the match Brett found and then the note, now tightly wrapped in a plastic covering. He read it over, brow furrowed.
“We found this at the scene, taped to a table in the employee lounge. It was obviously left for us to find,” I reasoned. “One of the employees also saw a suspicious male exiting the scene upon her arrival. He apparently wore a pig mask to cover his face.”
“Mm-hmm. Any camera footage?” He gave the note back to me. “It's difficult to deduce very much from the testimony of a single eyewitness.”
“No, sir. None. The feed for the cameras where he was had been tampered with. I believe it was his doing.”
“You believe.” He sighed. “Madison, I asked you to find me hard evidence. Wild theories are of no use to me.”
Why was he being such a hard ass? I mean, he'd always been a dick, but now there was something especially nasty about him t
hat I couldn't put my finger on.
“What do you think about the note? He seems to be taunting us, almost. It's clear he plans to strike again.”
He was not impressed. “Unfortunately, this is not enough for us to go on. What do you expect me to do – send a squad to every drug den in the city to wait for him in ambush?”
“Well, no, of course not. We don't even know where to begin. He's being vague.”
“A place of sin,” he recited from the note, strolling about the room, hands behind his back. “Hmm. This fellow wants to burn down some druggie's house. I wonder, would that really be such a loss?”
I gaped at him. “What? It's our job to serve and protect, and that means everybody – not just the good guys.”
There was a wicked twinkle in his eye that made me nervous. “Are you so sure about that? We've had troubles with drugs in this city for years now. Violent gangsters, much like Rico himself, peddling crack and heroin to innocent children. You know this is true.”
It was, and it made me sick to think about. Drugs ruined lives, and I was all too happy to arrest anyone involved with them.
“What's your point, sir?”
“If our culprit goes after them, perhaps he is doing us a favor.”
I could hardly believe my ears. Everyone knew Victor would do anything to look good, but this? He was willing to turn a blind eye to a deadly criminal solely because it benefited him?
“Think about it,” he continued. “Think of all the effort, the manpower, the time and money it would cost to bring those scum to justice. Our vigilante friend could accomplish so much more with a lot less.”
“He could kill people! That's far worse than throwing them into prison and rehab for a few years.”
“Dear, if you truly think people like that can ever be changed, I fear you're more naive than I thought.”
Had he not been my boss, I would have kicked him in the balls right about now.
“But I thought you wanted to catch the guy. You said it'd make us look good. How good will we look when something like that ends up on the news? People will be wondering what's wrong with us, why we can't stop this psycho from hurting people. We'll look like idiots.”
He raised his hands. “Now, I never said we'd let it continue that long. Let's just... give it some time and see what move he makes next.”
“While he rampages through the city like a madman on the loose.”
Victor came to me and put his hand on my back. His touch made me recoil; his fingers pressed into my flesh hard enough to bruise.
“So we're very clear on the matter, I want you to leave this case alone for now,” he said slowly. “You are to resume your normal duties. Understood?”
No, I didn't understand. The man was scarily smart, probably planning something in his twisted head. I cursed at myself silently for ever finding him attractive.
Maybe the other officers were right. What if I slept with him to rise up the ranks, whether I realized it or not? I thought I cared about him, but maybe I didn't want to admit how desperate for approval I really was.
“Yes, sir. I got it.” That, of course, was the only right answer to him.
He offered me a thin smile. “Good. I'm sure you can find something else to keep you busy, eh? Rico and his goons are still running free, along with hundreds of other shady characters ripe for arresting. Why don't you get out there and make me proud?”
I loathed the condescending way he spoke to me, as if he was the all-knowing parent and I, no better than a foolish child.
The more things I found to hate about him, though, the more convinced I was that I'd dated him for the wrong reasons.
And what did that say about me? Why was I so easily swayed by men? First Victor, with his charm and sweet promises. Now there was Brett, whose arms I fell into with the barest of resistance when I ought to know better.
I was in no position to be thinking of dating now, not with my head full of jumbled, confused thoughts.
But maybe my sister was right. Maybe some rough, dirty sex with a near-stranger was just what I needed to sort myself out.
The kind of sex I truly craved, but that I was too embarrassed to ask for.
If Brett put the moves on me again, what would the harm be in saying yes? He wasn't looking to settle down either. All he wanted was a bit of fun.
Perfect.
I couldn't make it too easy on him, though. Maybe I'd play hard to get just a little bit longer...
Harvey yelled to me from the other room, interrupting my naughty thoughts.
“Hey, Mad. Got some calls coming in just now. Bunch of noise complaints around McElroy Road.” He slurped his coffee and gave me puppy-dog eyes. “You wanna go check it out for me, huh?”
I didn't feel like working right now. What I did feel like was getting laid – pure sex for passion's sake alone, not that horrible, sterile in-and-out Victor subjected me to.
I needed a real man to give me that pleasure.
I needed Brett.
“Well? I'll owe you big time,” Harvey went on. “There's a game on, you see, and I can't miss it. I got a hundred bucks riding on this one.”
“Oh, all right.” I grabbed my coat. “You're buying breakfast tomorrow.”
He laughed and kicked back at his desk. “Hash browns and an Egg McMuffin with sausage. Got it.”
I headed off to McElroy Road, for the first time in forever, unable to think of anything but my lust-fueled thoughts.
Chapter 7 - Brett
The sweet smell of gasoline always got my blood pumping and heart pounding.
It was also probably giving me brain damage, but whatever.
“Yo, Brett!” Axel waved as his bike came to a stop beside mine. “You're racing tonight? Haven't seen you ride in weeks.”
I finished topping off my Kawasaki with fuel. It had been a while since I last rode her, and I'd almost forgotten how much I missed it.
The wind in my face, the hard leather seat beneath me, that feeling of pure speed, of being one with the road.
“Yeah, man, I'm down for a race or two.” I patted the old girl. “I would've been going a few rounds at the club instead, but it looks like that's not an option right now.”
Axel took a drag on his cigarette, then tossed the smoking butt on the ground by the pump. Even now, when I was off work, the firefighter in me sprung into action.
I stomped on it, made sure it was totally out, and threw it safely into the trash can. Axel laughed at me.
“Funny. You've got no problems partaking in select illegal activities, but you can't stand folks littering.”
“It's not about littering. You realize how much gas is spilled here? You trying to cause an explosion?”
He scratched his head. “Huh. Guess I never thought about it like that.”
Damn. People like him were the reason I had a job.
Though compared to our arsonist pal, this was nothing. I'd take people setting fires out of ignorance and stupidity over that any day.
I surveyed the competition. Six other riders loitered in the parking lot; I only knew three of them, and they'd never beaten me yet. Axel was good, but he lacked the killer instinct that had won me so many races before.
It was that same instinct that carried me through a fight. The same one, too, that kept me alert and alive in a burning, crumbling building.
Too bad it couldn't help me to win the woman of my dreams. At least, not yet.
A few more guys pulled up. One of them had a girl on the back of his bike. I'd slept with her a few months back and couldn't remember her name.
Her man was busy joking around with his buddies. She noticed me, smiled and winked.
It was a total come-on. Normally, I would have taken her up on that offer.
Tonight, the only woman I wanted – needed – was Madison.
“Here we go, guys. Who wants a cold one before hitting the streets?”
A dude came out of the gas station holding a couple of cases of beer. He and his
friends enthusiastically guzzled every last can. They offered me one, but I didn't bite.
It made me nervous. Cops already had their eyes on us; no sense giving them yet another reason to throw us in jail for the night.
Inside the building, the lone employee kept giving us funny looks. He was on the phone and staring at us – well, glaring was more like it. I was astute enough to know we'd worn out our welcome.
Another trio of bikers rolled into the parking lot, their rides roaring loud enough to wake the dead. I knew them, and unlike the rest of us racers, these men didn't know the meaning of fighting fair.
“Heard you were about to kick off a race,” shouted Diego, their so-called boss. “How come nobody invited us? This is our turf, after all.”
“Yeah. You wanna race here, you gotta get our permission first.”
“All right, fine.” Axel sighed. “If you want in, throw twenty bucks in the pot.”
Diego sneered. “I don't think so. Here's what's gonna happen: me and my boys are going to beat the piss out of you, then we're gonna take whatever pocket change you losers scraped together. How's that sound?”
“But you got to contribute to the pot to race –”
“The pigs!”
Sure enough, a cop car drove over the hill in our direction. I hoped they'd go past without issue, but knew better. With all of our bikes, we were like a flashing neon sign for police attention.
The car slowed, then turned into the parking lot. A couple of guys panicked and drove away.
“Great,” I muttered. “Why do the cops always show up and ruin the fun?”
The cruiser door opened, and out stepped Madison.
My heart hammered; I was so excited to see her face again – but scared, too. She already thought of me as a troublemaker. This wasn't gonna help that impression very much.
“Excuse me,” she shouted over the noise of the bikes. “We've received several noise complaints. Let me remind you that you're to keep your volume at a reasonable level after...”
