Bad Boy's Touch (Firemen in Love Book 3)

by Starling,Amy

  He replied, “I'm sure you can, but just to be safe.”

  I, against my better judgment, gave him what he wanted. I acted like it annoyed me.

  Now? I could have used a friendly voice. Someone who knew what I was going through.

  “No, Mad. Don't give in.” I stuffed the phone in my desk drawer. “You know what he wants out of you. There's only one reason guys like him pretend to care.”

  Victor was waiting for me. Might as well get this over with and see what he wanted.

  When I got to his office, he was on the phone, chatting loudly in his annoying way. I stood in the doorway; he raised a finger and kept right on talking.

  “He said that? Well, that's good news then, isn't it? Yes, I'm putting together a portfolio of my team's best cases. I'm sure Alex would agree I'd make a fine addition to your team.”

  There he went, bragging to his contact at the FBI again. Before I knew what kind of guy he really was, I thought his achievements were impressive.

  Now I just thought he was a total dick.

  He finally hung up and welcomed me to sit down. “So, Madison. I hear you were involved with busting up a drug operation yesterday.”

  “Yes, but to be honest, I never would have gone to that trailer park if not for the explosions.”

  “An unfortunate byproduct of cooking meth in small spaces. Those things tend to happen.”

  He stared out the window instead of looking at me. His words were flat, his expression hard to read. Saying the wrong thing here might send him into a fit of rage.

  “It was the arsonist that caused that to happen. He set it all up so the cooks would blow up the trailers themselves.”

  He broke out in a huge grin. “Is that so? What a clever and creative story! I'll call my man at the news station and leak it to him right away.”

  “What? No, it's not a story. It's the truth. You don't believe me?”

  “Well, it does sound rather ridiculous, don't you admit?” He waved me off before I could answer. “No matter. It's fun and exciting. The media will love it.”

  I was too baffled to argue. Sure, I didn't have a lot of proof, but I believed those men. And the culprit himself had left a note on my windshield! What would he have to say about that?

  I felt for the paper in my pocket and hesitated. Actually, maybe Victor didn't need to see this quite yet. Best find out what he was playing at first.

  That was my intuition speaking, as both a woman and a cop.

  “Madison, dear, it's fine to take credit for your accomplishments. No need to be so modest.”

  He left his post at the window and came to me, looking me up and down, then licked his lips.

  Ugh! This guy was such a pig. Brett did the same thing to me when we met, I know – but with him, the attention made me feel good.

  “I don't understand what you mean, sir.”

  “Listen to me,” he said firmly, grabbing my arms hard. “There is no arsonist out there, setting fire to bars and trailer parks.”

  My jaw fell. “Yes, there is! I saw the guy myself.”

  Then it struck me that I actually hadn't seen him myself, not once yet. Both times, it was Brett who spotted the guy.

  “You saw what you wanted to see. It's a common plight; officers of the law sometimes do have hallucinations under stress. And I can imagine being held hostage and shot at was very stressful, hmm?”

  I forced myself not to get angry at his condescending tone. He was trying his hardest to confuse me, to tell me what I had seen didn't exist. But why?

  “But the fire at the club –”

  “Was likely an accident, nothing more. In their rush to escape, Rico's thugs knocked over a candle, perhaps, or a stray bullet ignited alcohol spilled around the bar.”

  “I know what happened, damn it. I didn't just 'imagine' it. And what about the fire department, huh? They've been investigating too.”

  “Ah, yes.” He chuckled. “You mean Brett Silver. Handsome fellow, isn't he? I believe he's been on the news even more than I have – and not always for the best of reasons.”

  I bristled. His words were full of disdain, and something else too. Jealousy?

  Did he know there was something going on between the two of us?

  “Brett's popularity is irrelevant,” I snapped. “He works around fires everyday. He saw the same man I did at the scene, and he agrees it's arson.”

  “Mm, yes. How convenient.” He went back to his computer, clearly having lost interest. “I know what the truth is, Madison. You're trying to impress me by nabbing some big game, and you've got Silver in it on it somehow.”

  ...What?

  “I did the same thing when I was in your shoes. When you're a traffic cop and the most exciting thing in your day is granny driving the wrong way down a four-lane street, what can you do? How do you prove you're better than the rest, that you deserve to move up in the world?”

  This was absurd. Victor wasn't just an ass; he was also completely delusional. And somehow, he'd ended up the chief of police! How the hell did that happen?

  “You're not satisfied with your current position; I can see it. You want more than this.” He patted my hand across the desk. “But you don't need to invent a serial criminal to get my attention, dear.”

  I pulled away from him. “I didn't... I don't know what...”

  “I miss you, you realize. We parted on such unhappy terms, but I know we can do better.”

  Oh, crap. Was he seriously trying to get me back? No, worse than that – he was bribing me!

  I got up, eager to put as much space between us as possible. “I don't think now is the time to talk about our relationship, sir. In fact, I think it's best if we both pretend none of that ever happened.”

  He frowned. “It's unfortunate you feel that way. I had hoped we could perhaps work out an arrangement that benefits us both.”

  I'd tried being decent and respectful to him though he didn't deserve it. Now, though? Oh, he asked for it.

  I imagined I were Brett for a moment. And what would he do?

  Sock this bastard right in the face, that's what.

  “I'm not interested in getting back together. Not now, not ever.” I glared, wishing I could throw a punch instead. “And if I wanted a promotion, I wouldn't get with you for it. I'd work for it like everyone else.”

  “That's cute. Really, it is.” The look of disgust on his face, as if he thought so very little of me, shocked me. “How do you suppose you got that detective job, hmm?”

  I thought I was going to throw up. I'd worked so hard over the years, trying to prove myself to him, to all the men on the force – but he only promoted me because I slept with him?

  The gossip and rumors had been right, and I never knew it.

  “No,” I murmured. “I busted my ass to get here.”

  “There were other officers in the running for the spot, you realize. Men who'd have made a fine choice. But I picked you, Madison, because you were special.”

  All this time, I thought I was a good cop. I threw myself into the job, dedicating myself to upholding the law. I was praised, but what did it matter if I didn't earn it?

  “I don't care about that,” I said, trying to remain calm. “Right now, there's a dangerous arsonist on the loose and I want him stopped.”

  He came behind me and petted me on the head like a dog, or maybe a little girl. That was exactly how he managed to make me feel, even though I told myself not to let him have the satisfaction.

  “I know you want to believe it's true. You so desperately want your chance to get revenge, to stop what you were helpless to years ago.” He smiled his sympathy. “But calm yourself and think rationally for a moment. As a cop, you should know the simplest explanation is usually the correct one. Which is more likely: drug pushers exploding their own trailer, or an arsonist carrying out an elaborate plot to pin his work on them?”

  The letter in my pocket could be a trump card. I reached to show it to him, then paused. No, what difference
would it make? He'd accuse me of making this up too.

  “If you didn't believe there was an arsonist, why assign me to the case in the first place?”

  “So you would have something to entertain yourself with, of course. Letting you chase some imaginary criminal is much safer than making you deal with real crimes.” He turned away. “If I lost you, Madison, I don't know what I would do with myself.”

  I had half a mind to report this idiot to someone higher up, but what good would that do? Victor knew people, had connections that could get him out of any trouble.

  “I'm a cop. It's my job to deal with those crimes.”

  “By all means, continue chasing this phantom of yours.” He showed me to the door. “But please don't waste my time with anymore of your wild theories about it. I'm a busy man.”

  Stomach churning, I headed out. Before he slammed the door in my face, I asked him one last thing.

  “What if I do catch an arsonist, huh? What will you say then?”

  “That is not going to happen,” he said flatly. That was the end of that.

  I stormed back to my desk, so pissed I felt like punching holes in the wall. What was it gonna take to convince him the arsonist existed? Maybe the only thing would be catching the guy in the act.

  I pulled my phone out of the drawer and stared at Brett's name in the contacts. Call him if I needed anything, he said. I told him that wouldn't be necessary.

  Maybe I lied.

  As the phone rang and rang, I grabbed my things and headed out to the car. Thank God the shift was over; I couldn't stand being under Victor's watchful gaze a moment longer.

  “So you called me after all. Knew you would.”

  “You gonna brag about it? Gloat that you were right?”

  “No,” he said quietly. “I don't care about being right. I'm just happy you did, that's all.”

  His husky voice somehow comforted me and made my heart race at the same time. That night in the woods, when he stripped me naked and screwed me like a wild animal under the stars, came rushing back to me.

  “I have to ask you something, Brett.” I pulled out onto the road and headed homeward. “You believe the arsonist is real, don't you?”

  “Of course I do. Given the evidence, you'd have to be crazy not to believe it. Plus the notes; he's leading us on some kind of sick scavenger hunt.”

  “And do you think I'm actually capable of catching him?”

  “Madison, you're the toughest woman I know. You're determined. Smart. Of course you're capable.” He sounded puzzled. “I don't get why you'd ask such silly questions when you already know the answers.”

  “I'm just beginning to doubt myself, that's all. Victor's messing with me. Says the arsonist is in my head, that he's just letting me 'go after' him to get me out of his way. He's claiming the fires are accidental.”

  “Huh? The whole fire department agrees they were set on purpose.”

  “I know, but he's trying to steer me away from the whole thing. Earlier, he said if there was an arsonist, he was doing us a favor by going after the city's undesirables.”

  Brett made a noise of disgust. “That guy makes me sick. A favor, hmm... Does he just intend to sit back and let the culprit keep burning things to the ground? When word gets out what's going on, the public will demand he hunt the man down.”

  “And he will then, but until that point, he's content to sit back and reap the rewards. He cares more about showing off than solving crimes.”

  Either that, or he truly didn't believe an arsonist was out there. I didn't intend to push it further with him, anyway. The guy was a creep and being near him made my skin crawl.

  “Did you show him the note from the trailer park?”

  “No. I got the feeling that I shouldn't.”

  “That's good. Don't trust him; Lord knows who's side he's on.”

  And whose side was Brett on, exactly? Sure, he wanted to find the arsonist as much as I did, but beyond that, I still didn't know what he wanted from me.

  “I don't know who to trust.” I slammed on the brakes just in time to not run the light. “You read the note. The arsonist is watching me. Knows me.”

  “I doubt he actually knows you, per se. Probably just some stranger who overheard your name and thought you were beautiful.” He gave a shaky laugh. “It's easy to see how a guy could obsess over you. Hell, I took one look at you and knew I couldn't let you get away.”

  “Really? You think now of all times is ideal for that?”

  In the background, someone yelled at him to hurry up before they left him there.

  “Sorry, I wasn't thinking.” He shouted back at them to wait a minute. “Look, if you're scared this guy is going to come after you, maybe you should –”

  “I'm not scared. Why would I be?” I snapped, gunning the car through the next yellow light at fifty miles an hour. “You think because I'm a woman, I can't take care of myself?”

  “Uh... No, I never said that.”

  The poor man sounded dumbstruck by my outburst. I held back tears as I whipped into the driveway, ashamed for letting Victor get under my skin. Though we'd broken up, he still had a grip on my life that I couldn't quite free myself from.

  “You know what you need?” he asked me.

  “If you're going to suggest sex again, then don't.”

  “Not this time, though if you're up for it, I'd never turn you down.”

  I was actually sort of disappointed he didn't offer. Few things cleared my head like a good roll in the hay. Getting naked with Brett, at least, would take my mind off all of this for a little while.

  “You need a night to relax. Worrying about everything in your life isn't good for you.”

  “As if I should listen to you for health advice. You ride motorcycles with no helmet, get into bloody fist fights, and probably do God knows what with those women at the club.”

  “At least you can't accuse me of not being fun.”

  He made no comment about that last bit. It hurt, even though there was no reason for it to. I'd barely met him a week ago. We slept together one time. He was bad news, sure to go down in flames and bring me with him.

  Any woman who thought she could tame Brett Silver was an idiot.

  Yet with his good looks, his sense of adventure, and his ability to give me the best sex of my life, how could I help myself?

  “I say you ought to come out with me and get drunk. I don't mean a little tipsy; I'm talking so shit-faced you fall off the bar stool. That always helps me forget my problems.”

  “Yeah, that's not the only thing it helps you forget. How to act like a civilized human being totally slips your mind.”

  “You don't have to worry, though. I'll only have a couple of beers, so I can be your designated ride home.”

  Getting smashed sounded nice after the crap I'd been going through. But doing it around Brett? He'd start taking my clothes off soon as I was too wasted to protest, knowing him.

  Not that I would have minded that very much...

  “I'll have to refuse your kind offer,” I told him as I fumbled with the house keys. “Today's my brother Charlie's birthday, and it's kind of tough on Jenna. I need to be here for her tonight.”

  “You have a brother, too?”

  “Had,” I corrected him. “It's a long story, but he's not with us anymore.”

  “I see.” His tone had changed. Quieted. “Of course, family's important. Sorry for being, uh, insensitive.”

  “You weren't being insensitive. I appreciate it.” Finally got the sticky lock open and let myself in. “It's a Friday night. You could have gone out partying or getting into trouble with any woman you wanted, yet you were willing to spend time with me.”

  “Well, yeah,” he said, as if I were crazy for not getting it. “I told you. After that night in the forest, I can't stop thinking about you. I've gotta get you back in my bed.”

  “I knew this was about sex somehow.”

  Jenna wasn't home. She'd probably gone straight fro
m her classes to her shift at Di Angelo's, so she wouldn't return until after ten. Good; maybe staying busy would help keep her mind off Charlie.

  “It's not just sex,” he said softly. “Maybe there's more to it than that.”

  “Like what?”

  “I don't know,” he said after a long pause. “I just know there's something about you I can't keep away from.”

  But what did he want in the end? A quick fling, just a bit of fun – or more?

  Hell, what did I want? After leaving Victor, being single sounded perfect for me. Still, the faster I approached age thirty, the stronger became that womanly instinct to build a nest and start a family.

  And Brett might well have been lots of fun, but he definitely wasn't a family man.

  “Brett, you coming?” someone yelled. “The lunch buffet's over at four; hurry up!”

  “Sounds like I should let you go.”

  “Yeah. But I'm glad you called, okay? Maybe we can –”

  The front door flung open, and in stumbled Jenna, breathing hard, her face bright pink. She slammed the door behind her and locked the two deadbolts lightning fast.

  “Oh, Mad, thank God.” She ran to me. “Someone was following me!”

  “Following you? Are you sure? I mean, why would somebody –”

  “I'm serious! It was a black car with tinted windows.” She fell into the couch and clutched her favorite pillow. “It started when I left school. The car pulled out right behind mine. Then they made all the same turns the whole way back. What are the odds of that happening for ten whole miles?”

  Brett heard. “Did she get a good look at the guy? Ask her if she saw him.”

  I did. She shook her head.

  “The windows were darkened, and he never got close enough to see. I was too scared to look back and get his license plate.”

  I drew my gun from its holster and, heart thundering in my chest, sprinted out to the porch. Brett kept yelling things at me, but I barely heard a word of it.

  We lived on a quiet street in a small, close-knit neighborhood. There were no cars to the right, nor to the left. Whoever had been after Jenna was either long gone or watching me from afar.

  “He's gone,” she told me when I returned. “He took off when I pulled into the driveway.”