Bad Boy's Touch (Firemen in Love Book 3) (19 page)

BOOK: Bad Boy's Touch (Firemen in Love Book 3)
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“I've never done anything like that before, you know,” I said quickly. “Just so you don't think I'm like that with everybody.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You trying to tell me I bring out the freaky side of you?”

“I guess you do.”

“That's quite an honor.”

I went to the kitchen to pick up the mess from dinner, chastising myself silently the whole way. If only I hadn't drank so much, I wouldn't have done any of that. Now things would be super awkward between us – if he decided to keep hanging around, that is.

“Thanks again for the delicious meal.” I put the salmon in a container for the fridge. “Here's the leftovers.”

He shook his head. “I want you to take them. Seems you need it more than I do.”

“What I need is a personal chef who'll cook me dinner every night.”

He nuzzled my neck from behind as I packed up the spinach. “Like me?”

“Maybe.”

This side of him, generous and caring, was nothing like the side I'd seen the night we met. I didn't understand. Thought all he wanted was to get laid. I'd accepted that. Didn't really want a long-term thing after Victor anyway.

Now it seemed maybe Brett wanted more than that. I had no idea what to do about it.

We went out to the porch. It was late; the night still, quiet and peaceful. I was kind of sad when he headed for his car.

“Busy day tomorrow. Maybe we'll finally catch our bad guy.”

A car pulled down the dark road and into the driveway. Jenna was home.

She stepped out with a heavy sigh. “What a night. I got stiffed twice, and I'm so sick of –” She paused and gaped at the two of us. “Oh, gee, you didn't warn me you were having... company.”

I tensed at the two of them meeting. Brett was a fantastic lover, but not exactly the kind of influence I wanted for my kid sister.

He smiled warmly and stuck out his hand. “I'm Brett. Madison's told me lots about you.”

“Hopefully not the bad parts.” She tossed her hair and batted her eyelashes. “I've seen you on TV, putting out fires like a boss. You're pretty badass.”

Brett laughed. I shoved Jenna with a growl.

“Stop flirting and get inside.”

She protested a bit, then stopped in her tracks and peered into the darkness to the right of our yard.

“Hey,” she whispered, pointing. “There's a car there. I think they're watching us.”

Brett stood in front of Jenna while I reached for my gun – but of course, it wasn't there. I'd left it on the dresser. Damn!

“Mad, where are you going?” Jenna hissed.

I held up my hand to quiet her and stepped forward slowly. Indeed, there was a black car nestled between my house and the neighbor's, hidden so well among the thick trees it was nearly invisible.

“Come out with your hands up,” I demanded.

The headlights flicked on, blinding me with the sudden brightness. Then the engine roared, and the car sped out of its hiding spot onto the street.

It was the same black car as the one from before. How long had they been there?

“We just gonna let him get away?” Brett frowned. “That's our guy, isn't it? This could be your chance to stop the idiot before he strikes again.”

The car zipped around the bend and vanished. I'd never catch him now. That, though, wasn't my biggest problem.

How could I and Jenna feel safe in our own home anymore?

Somehow, this bastard had to be stopped.

Chapter 13 - Brett

 

I'd slept with a lot of girls. Done a lot of crazy things. But I'd never had sex the way it happened last night.

I slapped a woman in the face. I hit
Madison
in the face.

Holy shit.

Yes, she asked for it. I'd been reluctant, because what sort of man hits a lady? It was just wrong.

What bothered me most of all was how much I enjoyed it. The rush it gave me, that jolt of pleasure when my hand struck her cheek.

Was I some kind of monster?

Just like dad used to be. I could still hear mom's screams as he “punished” her for burning dinner one night...

“You don't pay more attention, you're gonna drop that thing on your neck.”

Carter stared down at me. He was supposed to be spotting me, but seemed more interested in the news on TV.

“That's what I got you for, man. Would you stop looking at that thing and focus here?”

He sighed. “Okay, go.”

My hands curled around the thick metal bar. Then I steadied my arms and slowly, surely, raised the weights above my head.

My muscles burned. I didn't care. Took my mind off things for a while.

I lowered the bar and exhaled.

“One,” counted Carter. “You sure you can handle this? Looks like you're gonna burst blood vessels in your head or something.”

I ignored him and kept on. Normally, this worked great at keeping stress at bay. Today, worries of all sorts swirled in my thoughts.

What did I want out of Madison, Jayce had asked. The sex was great, but not just that. When that part was over, I still wanted to hang out with her.

That's what separated her from the rest – and to me, a guy who cherished variety in his conquests, that was huge.

“So I hear you got something going on with a cute police officer.” Carter chuckled. “Never could've imagined that. I guess opposites really do attract.”

I swore Jayce gossiped more than a teen girl. Still, Carter was the one of us who'd settled down the earliest. Figured he knew something about women.

The bar was suddenly too heavy. I set it back down with his help and dabbed my forehead with a cool towel.

“Hey, man. Has Alicia ever asked you to hit her?”

Carter blinked. “Um... No?”

I draped the towel over my eyes. “Madison asked me to. In the face.”

“Did you do it?”

“She practically begged for it. Who was I to turn her down?” I took a swig from the water bottle. “In the heat of the moment, it was so damn hot. Now I just feel like an asshole.”

The TV blared on about the recent string of “unexplained” fires cutting a path of destruction across Waco and Kingston. Arson, said the reporter, was being considered as a possibility.

“Maybe she's one of those, uh... What do you call 'em? Masochistic types. They get off on pain, being dominated, stuff like that.” He shook his head. “Don't ask me how I know.”

“How
do
you know?”

“Alicia read some stupid erotic romance novel and decided it'd be sexy if I tied her up with scarves or some crap. Instead, she complained the whole time that her wrists hurt and it freaked her out when she couldn't move.”

Bet if I pulled that with Madison, she'd be in heaven. Different strokes, I guess. Being with her was gonna take some serious tweaking of my technique.

“So it sounds like you actually like this girl,” Carter noted as we hit the locker room. “Is she just some new friend with benefits or what?”

“You know I'd never sleep with a friend. I don't let women get that close to me.” I stood under the cool water of the shower. “But I
want
to get close with her. Not saying I'm planning on settling down yet, but maybe it wouldn't hurt to try this dating game out.”

“Well, you
are
thirty years old. Racing, fights, screwing slutty girls, you can't keep doing that stuff forever. I mean, you're a good-looking guy, but looks don't last. Best you find someone you can trust and love regardless.”

I knew that he was right.

Obviously, however, Madison couldn't be that for me. She didn't trust me now, and I doubted she ever could. Probably thought I would always be one step away from destroying myself with one of my famous poor decisions.

All I could hope for with her was a good time until she got sick of my shit. Could be that's why I was still single; because I knew nobody would put up with me.

That realization socked me hard in the gut.

Carter threw me a towel over the wall. “It's good to have a day off, huh? With all the fires popping up recently, feels like we've been working around the clock.”

“If the police would put more effort into capturing the arsonist behind them, we could finally take a real break.”

“Thought your girlfriend was the one leading the hunt?”

“It's all bullshit.” I pulled on clean socks. “The chief, Victor Patterson, also happens to be her ex-boyfriend. He's a crazy misogynist who's got his head rammed up his ass.”

“Oh,” Carter said quietly. “That sucks.”

“Yeah. Despite evidence that those fires are arson, he insists they're all accidents. He put Madison on the case to 'catch' the guy though he keeps claiming he doesn't exist.”

He scoffed. “Obviously, he
does
exist. Why would he do that? Soon enough, everyone in the city will know the truth. They find out he allowed the culprit to continue burning stuff down, they'll be calling for his badge.”

“Madison thinks he's benefiting from keeping the guy around. I fail to see how, though. If anything, it just makes him look like an incompetent moron.”

“Must be a pretty big benefit, then, if he's willing to risk it.”

Then there was the unnerving matter of that creep hanging around her house. She could handle herself; she had a gun and the training to take out any bad guy.

Even so, the thought of someone hurting her made my blood boil.

Carter and I said goodbye and went our own way. I was off to the grocery store – thought maybe I'd grab some things for dinners since Madison liked the first one so well – when the radio came alive.

I kept a radio in my car that linked up to our station's dispatch, just in case. There had been times when the fire was so bad, they needed folks to come in even on their off days.

Not really wanting to do any work today but still feeling the nasty pull of obligation, I turned the thing up.

“Units, we've got a house fire at nineteen twenty-nine Starlight Lane. A neighbor reported the whole house is already up in flames. All units, respond immediately.”

I almost ignored it, but that hint of desperation in the dispatcher's voice gave me pause. Something wasn't right here.

With my phone out, I searched for the address online. The name came back to me instantly, and my stomach flip-flopped.

Freddy Ventura, the arsonist's next target.

The murderer who had killed five innocent women.

Time seemed to freeze in my car right then. It was my job as a firefighter, and my moral duty, to save people who needed saving. Normally, whether they actually
deserved
saving or not never factored into my thought process.

But it didn't take a genius to figure this one out. Freddy was definitely better off dead.

“Ten-four, dispatch. We got a truck en route right now.”

I slammed on the gas, made an illegal U-turn, and floored it to the highway. That was the quickest route to the south side of town.

“What are you doing, Brett? Where do you think you're going?”

I had no idea how to answer.

The arsonist could still be there, ready to taunt me, to threaten and tell me to stay away from Madison. I should have called her to let her know.

But right now, it wasn't the guy who set the fire on my mind. It was Freddy.

The legal system had failed those five girls he'd killed. Money got him out of jail when he should have been behind bars for the rest of his miserable life.

The law had no teeth, maybe.

But
I
did.

Madison would hate me for this, but I didn't care. This could be my only chance to do something good in the world. Something that mattered. If she cared about me one bit, she might understand.

Even if she didn't, I had to do the right thing.

My tires screeched as I pulled off the exit ramp, cutting off several incoming cars in the process. Drivers honked, but instead of flipping them off, I drove faster.

Had to get there first. Had to beat the trucks.

And what would I do when I got there?

I didn't need a GPS to find the asshole's house. There, up on the hill, his mansion was a big orange ball of fire. Dispatch hadn't been exaggerating; it looked like it'd been burning for quite a while.

This was our pyromaniac's doing, no doubt. But how did he pull it off?

Not far off, the sirens howled. I had maybe five minutes, max, before my boys showed up to save the day.

People who lived in mansions often isolated themselves from the rest of the world, where the lower-class plebeians lived. Evidently, Freddy had done the same.

There was one long road up the hill to his house, surrounded on both sides by thick forest. At the very beginning, near the intersection of Starlight Lane and Cockerel Hill, some construction crew had been doing roadwork.

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