by Lily Rede
His expression cleared as heat filled his eyes, and his hips thrust up lazily into her grip.
“I’d be willing to let you give it your best shot,” he said gravely, and slid a hand behind her head to tug her mouth gently toward his body.
STUPID, COCKY, SON OF a bitch, he thought, crouched way back across the road in a cluster of trees, watching the three men pile out of an “Iverson’s Hardware” truck. He was too far away to make them out – the partially finished house was set back from the road and the property cleared of trees. The open area made him nervous – unlike the other buildings, this one had no cover, nothing to protect him from curious neighbors who might spot him running from a burning building. So, instead, he’d built the tiniest of incendiary devices and set it to go off on a timer, and then simply walked away.
And now he was kicking himself.
It wasn’t even dark yet, although it was late afternoon and the sun was starting to slip over the horizon. He’d gotten cocky – this was the last one, and the whole thing had gone so smoothly that he’d gotten lazy.
He watched the men unload boxes from the truck, stacking them in the unfinished garage. The Banks family was living in a guest house across town while the house was being gutted and expanded – Avery Banks had inherited a tidy sum from a wealthy aunt and decided that it was time that his growing family of five stopped living in a cramped house built for three.
Almost smoothly, he amended. The only true thorn in his paw was that all of his attempts to deflect attention and suspicion toward Adam Mallow had seemed to go nowhere so far. He seethed. The Sheriff’s Department was tenacious, especially that new cop, Asher, and he knew that if they didn’t close the case by actually having a criminal in custody, they’d simply keep looking.
And that would be bad.
He blamed Matt Harris most of all. The man was clearly blinded by lust – whatever depraved sexual things Grace Mallow had talked him into were making him stand up for the boy, time and again. And now he had Cal Iverson to blame as well, who was too stupid to realize that the Mallow boy had stolen his toolkit. That was a major blow. He’d knocked Adam out, taken what he had assumed was the boy’s toolkit from the foot of the stairs, and set fire to the Murphy house, conveniently leaving evidence behind.
But then – nothing.
It rankled.
He checked his watch. If they didn’t move now, they’d get caught in the blast. He might be able to warn them, but not without revealing his identity and his actions, a double tragedy since he was so close to the finish line.
Until now, no one had gotten hurt. He was surprised to find that the thought didn’t bother him as much as it should. In fact –
The one on the left looks like Cal.
It would serve him right.
BOOM!
The blast was bigger than he had anticipated, and a fireball filled the sky as the house exploded. One of the men was lucky – on the opposite side of the truck, where he missed the force of the blast and hit the dirt. The other two were not – they were thrown, only to land, motionless.
He watched the flames, feeling excitement surging through him. His pants were tight, so he freed himself, stroking his dick to a dizzying climax as the fire raged and concerned neighbors took notice of the incident.
It was finished.
MATT COULD BARELY KEEP up as Grace ran down the hallway of the little hospital across the bay toward the ER. When she saw Adam sitting up, one arm wrapped in bandages and a few new welts on his face, but alive, she burst into tears. Matt’s heart broke for her even as rage filled every blood vessel, and he was relieved when she moved to carefully envelop her brother in a watery hug – one more second and he would have snatched her so tightly that he would probably have done some damage.
Instead, he clenched his fists and started counting. When he reached a hundred and thirty-seven, he felt the red cloud starting to settle, and focused on the other bed in the room.
“Oh no, Cal!”
Matt hurried over to where Cal Iverson was swathed in bandages all along his left side, but also alive as he opened one pain-filled eye to focus on Matt.
“Althea?” he whispered.
“She’s on her way, Cal. Don’t fret,” said Dr. Jocelyn Griggs, stepping into the room, looking pale.
Jocelyn was Bright’s Ferry’s longtime doctor and liked to remind people who crossed her that she was the one who had helped usher them into the world in the first place. She might be tiny, with silver-shot brown hair and a few creases in her sharp features, but she was still at the top of her game.
She checked Cal’s chart, clucking, and then moved over to examine Adam’s pupils as Grace reluctantly let him go.
“Silas,” he said, “Silas is dead.”
“What?” asked Matt.
“He was with us, unloading the delivery to the Banks house after we closed up the shop for the day. He didn’t want to come at all. But then he got caught in the blast.”
Adam was shaking, and Jocelyn gently helped him lay back, tucking his blankets in before drawing Matt and Grace back into the hallway.
“He’s still in shock,” she told Grace, “but he was lucky. A few nasty burns on that arm, but apparently he was behind the truck when the blast went off. Cal got caught in it, and poor Silas – he was a mean kid, but no one deserves to die that way.”
She shook her head.
“I’m going to have them keep Adam overnight just to be safe.”
“I need to question Cal,” said Matt, grimly, and Jocelyn nodded.
“I don’t know how much good he’s going to be to you. He’s on some pretty serious pain meds. Excuse me.”
She stepped away to greet Althea and get her up to speed, clasping her shaking hands and speaking in a low, gentle voice.
“Are you going to be okay here by yourself for a few hours?” asked Matt.
“I have to call my Mom and Dad, and check on Fiona,” replied Grace.
Matt took her shoulders.
“I want you to prepare yourself, Grace. We’re going to have to ask Adam a few questions. I can hold off until tomorrow, but it has to be done. He’s the only real witness, because I don’t think we’re going to get much out of Cal. Okay?”
He held his breath, but Grace only nodded and surprised him by flinging herself into his arms to hold on tightly, burying her face in his chest. He wrapped her close, nuzzling her temple, breathing in her scent.
“Hey, it’s going to be okay,” he said.
She nodded, but didn’t say anything, only moved her head to find his mouth with hers, a kiss of comfort, of solace as she softly tangled their tongues together. Matt tasted tears and couldn’t help squeezing her harder, until she gasped into his mouth. Cursing himself, he loosened his grip, but she only stroked his chest soothingly for a moment before letting him go.
“Call me later,” she said, and turned to step outside, already dialing.
Matt gulped down the emotion that clogged his throat and stepped back into the room. Adam was asleep, his young face painfully pale against the white sheets. Althea was still outside talking to Jocelyn, so Matt dragged a chair close to Cal’s bed and sat down.
“Cal? Can you hear me?”
Cal opened his good eye to focus on Matt.
“Do you have any idea what happened?”
A tiny shake of his head.
“Did you see anything strange? Anything at all?”
“Heard…beeping…”
“You heard a beeping sound. Like a microwave or an alarm clock?”
A tiny affirmative.
“I’m going to head over there now and take a look, but if there’s anything you know that can help us, please – ”
Cal rolled his eye over to Adam’s bed.
“Toolkit,” he managed, “Borrowed.”
“Adam borrowed the toolkit we found at the Murphy’s.”
Cal nodded again, and then seemed to lose focus. Althea stepped inside and hurried to her husband’s bed, a
nd a grim Matt offered his sympathy and support, and then hurried away.
It was going to be a long night.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
GETTING BURNED REALLY FUCKING hurt, Adam thought to himself as he carefully pulled on his jacket over his damaged arm. Dr. Griggs had let him come home this morning and it had only taken ten minutes of Grace’s fussing before Adam had insisted that she go to work. They were short-staffed as it was, with Fiona rushing to stay by Cal’s side. The thought of Fiona made him sad, and he doubted she’d want to flirt with him now.
“One of us needs to earn a paycheck, Gracie, and since it doesn’t look like it’s going to be me anytime soon…”
The hardware store was closed until further notice and even if it weren’t, the last thing Adam needed was to be confronted by a bunch of locals who assumed he’d tried to blow up his boss. Plus, his arm was going to be painful for a few weeks. The doctor had warned him that burns take time to heal and Adam thanked God that no one had been hurt back during his house-burning days. Knowing that this was what it felt like made all the difference in the world.
Those days are behind me.
Grace had left him with a list of strict admonishments that he quickly decided to ignore, and proceeded to make plans to go out. He couldn’t stay inside all day. His arm throbbed like a toothache and he didn’t want to overdo it on the meds, which made him foggy anyway. The best solution was to get out of the house and try to keep busy.
Russell looked relieved to see him when Adam opened the door.
“Man, I thought you were cooked,” he said.
“I lucked out,” Adam responded.
“How’s Cal?” asked Russell as they headed to his car.
“Not good. He’s in for a ton of surgery, skin grafts and stuff like that.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah.”
“So, where are we going?” asked Adam, wincing as he buckled his seatbelt.
“I have to stop off at the office to pick up my paycheck and then, whatever you want to do, bro.”
“As long as we can get out of town for a few hours, I am open to anything.”
He noticed that Russell’s hands were glued tight to the steering wheel and there was tension along his frame.
“Something bothering you, Russell?”
Russell laughed, though it didn’t sound quite genuine.
“Oh, I did something stupid and Darryl is pissed at me. You know how it is.”
“Sure. What did you do?”
“Screwed up an order. You know, I’ve got new appreciation for Pops. He held it all together and always knew what to do. I’m okay with the guys, but I don’t have a head for the business. I keep fucking things up and Darryl says we’re losing clients.”
“I’m sure it’ll work itself out,” offered Adam, supportive.
“Yeah.”
Russell turned on the radio, cranking it up as they peeled away down the street.
At the offices, Adam sat in the car, waiting for Russell, and was surprised when the young man exited the double-wide with Darryl on his heels. They were yelling at each other, and though a few workers glanced in their direction, nobody stopped to interrupt. He was too far away to make anything out, but Adam frowned when Darryl pointed at him in the car, still yelling.
Russell returned, red as a beet and utterly furious.
“Are you all right?” asked Adam.
“It’s just this thing. I told Darryl I’ve got it under control, but he thinks I’m just making it worse. Let me give you a tip, bro. Don’t ever work with family. Hey, you know we could go see if there are any fish left in Ridley’s Pond. What do you say?”
Adam mustered a smile, his mind whirring.
“Sure, why not?”
GRACE YAWNED, RESTOCKING BOOKS from the metal book cart to the secluded Biographies shelves at the back of the library. Between fires, disasters, and epic sex with Matt Harris, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a decent night’s sleep.
“Excuse me, Miss, I’m looking for something hot and sexy and guaranteed to keep me up all night long…I remember it had a purple cover and really liked having its pages turned.” His voice was low and husky and teasing.
Grace smiled to see Matt leaning against a bookcase.
He looks tired, she thought.
“You’re in a good mood,” she said.
“I think the smell of paper turns me on,” he replied, gently crowding her up against another bookcase to nibble on her throat.
“Lucky me.”
She explored his shoulders and back under his jacket, oddly enjoying this slow, undemanding flirtation. The kind of guys she met in the clubs didn’t really spend time on simple affection, and Grace was surprised to find that she liked it, though the swell of emotion in her chest reminded her why she should shy away.
That’s how you get hurt, Grace…two more minutes.
Grace could feel him swelling against her stomach, but there was no urgency, just playful hands and light brushes of lips until Matt rested his forehead against hers with a sigh. She wrapped her hands around his neck, massaging the tight muscles there with a soothing murmur.
“Do you want to hear it?” he asked, clearly reluctant.
“Tell me.”
“Well, there’s almost nothing left of the Banks house, and if Adam had been anywhere but behind that truck – it’s a miracle Cal survived at all. We found the remains of a small incendiary device – ”
“A bomb?” she hissed, shocked, as Matt nodded.
“With the internet these days, anyone with a toolkit and a little ingenuity can build a small bomb. What’s really strange, though – the Banks house was under construction. I mean gutted. There wasn’t anything in there worth burning.”
He stroked her waist for a minute, his hands framing her hips, and then slid them up to cup her face.
“Grace,” he said, hesitant, “It really is miraculous that Adam came out of this relatively unscathed.”
“Unscathed? Have you seen his arm?”
She pulled back, annoyed.
“I’m serious, if he had been a foot or two in either direction…”
“It was a close call.”
Matt rubbed the back of his neck, anxious.
“I’m not supposed to be telling you this, but the Chief asked us to consider the idea that Adam – ”
“No.”
“Grace, it’s just a theory.”
“No! Adam may have been a terror as a teenager, but he’d never put anyone in danger!”
“He burned three houses down! The fact that nobody got hurt is pure luck! Otherwise he’d have gotten much more than a slap on the wrist and a couple of years in juvie!”
“Keep your voice down!”
Grace glared at him and turned back to her stack of books, slamming them back into their slots with a complete lack of care.
“Why? Why would he do something like that?” she finally demanded.
“To punish the town, maybe? They took away his freedom, and look how they treated your family after the fires. Look how they treat you now!”
Grace scowled at him for a long moment, and then –
“I don’t believe it.”
“Grace – ”
His face was a thundercloud, his body tense, but she didn’t care.
“And if you do, you’re not the man I thought you were.”
Her voice cracked at the end and she whirled away, but not before her eyes welled up. Hoping he wouldn’t see them, she hurried away, ignoring the sound of the book cart crashing over and Matt’s furious muttered, “Fuck me.”
HE WASN’T CUT OUT to be a spy and he knew it, but Adam gave it his best effort, following his gut. After a couple of hours, he and Russell had faced the fact that Ridley’s Pond was not going to yield the bounty of late season fish that Russell had envisioned, and given up. Russell was still twitchy, and as he dropped Adam off, his mind was a million miles away.
“Guess I’ll see you, b
ro,” he said, and Adam nodded and headed inside.
Something’s up with him.
The persistent feeling wouldn’t leave him alone, and though Adam knew he should probably stay home, take some painkillers, and sleep, he grabbed Grace’s car keys and headed out, grateful that she usually walked to work.
It didn’t take too long to find Russell – after all, Bright’s Ferry was pretty much the size of a postage stamp – and Adam kept his distance as he followed him down Main Street. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but he had a bad feeling, and a few years on the street had taught Adam to follow his gut instinct whenever possible.
Russell pulled up in front of the burned out restaurant next to the nightclub and hopped out. He stood there, examining the structure, and after a few minutes, jumped back into his car. Curious, Adam followed him as he repeated the process – first at the office building, then at the Haden house, and then out to the destroyed Banks property.
Adam shivered as he looked at the charred shell, now surrounded in police tape and followed Russell’s slow crawl past the house.
The bad feeling wouldn’t go away, and if Adam had learned anything, it was that keeping it to himself was not an option.
MATT CHECKED OFF THE chore list taped to the fridge in the mess at the fire station. He wasn’t technically on duty, since the Chief had basically loaned him out to the Sheriff’s Department, but there was nothing for him to do until Evie called back with any new news. Nothing but wait. And think about Grace.
Grace, who rocked his world. Grace, who insisted that she wasn’t interested in anything but fast and dirty, and then melted in his arms. Grace, whose brother might be an arsonist.
Yeah, this is a clusterfuck.
Matt looked around the room – three hours of reorganizing, de-cluttering, and scrubbing had the place looking pristine again, and it was the least he could do for his brothers-in-arms, who had fended off six fires over the last couple of weeks. And the town was still standing.
A scuffle of sneakers and a quiet clearing of a throat had Matt turning around.
He was shocked to see Adam Mallow, looking pale, cradling his bandaged arm.
