Bad Boy's Touch (Firemen in Love Book 3) (26 page)

BOOK: Bad Boy's Touch (Firemen in Love Book 3)
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“Because.” She fiddled with a fork. “I started to have feelings for –”

“You guys!”

The screen door slammed against the wall so hard, it nearly fell off its hinges. Jenna burst into the room, huffing and puffing, her face all pink. Madison immediately rushed to her sister's side.

“What's the matter?”

“He's out there. The guy in the black car!”

That dude was still following them around? And now, he'd had the balls to show his face on
my
property.

I wasn't gonna let him get away this time.

“Where is he?” I sprinted to the porch. “Where?”

“Across the road.” She pointed. “In that driveway.”

As she said, the car was well-hidden behind the bushes in my neighbor Jim's drive. All the lights were off across the street, so the vehicle and its driver were, as usual, barely visible.

Madison pushed past me and glared at the car. “Too bad I left my gun in the glove box.”

“Go get it,” I said. “You approach from the left; I'll take the right.”

Jenna squinted. “Is there even anybody in there? I can't see.”

Madison was about to protest my plan when the car's lights flipped on and the engine roared. It peeled out of the driveway.

“Oh no you don't,” I growled, sprinting for Mad's Charger. “Give me the keys and get in.”

“You're
not
driving my car! And you seriously want to chase this weirdo down?”

We didn't have time to argue. Luckily, by some miracle, the guy's car sputtered and stalled out at the end of the road.

Jenna slid into the back of Madison's car. “Hurry up, sis, or we're gonna lose him.”

“Not you, too. You're not going anywhere near him.”

“Well, you can't leave me here alone!”

Finally, she relented and tossed me her keys. Good call; I knew these roads better than anyone. I'd raced them for years.

And in that moment, I realized something about her.

She'd never admit it, but on some level, she trusted me. I promised myself right then I wouldn't let her down.

“We can't do this,” Madison grumbled as she slid into the passenger's seat. “Maybe if I were on duty, but I'm not.”

I ignored her and revved the engine. Jenna shrieked as we whipped around the bend after the guy.

“We're going on a real police chase,” she hollered. “This is fun.”

Madison gaped at her. “This isn't a police chase, and it
isn't
fun. This is stupid.”

“Do you want this guy to keep spying on us forever?”

She said nothing to that.

Just as we approached the car, the driver managed to get it to turn over. He floored it, racing away from us at top speed down the hill.

“What do you think you're going to do?” Madison yelled.

“He's gotta stop eventually. And if he doesn't, we'll
make
him stop.”

She hurried to buckle her seat belt. “This is why we shouldn't be together, Silver. You do dumb things that are sure to get us all killed one day.”

“Stop being so boring, Mad,” Jenna grumbled. “Brett's exciting. He's good for you. I mean, what else were you gonna do tonight? Sit on the couch in your jammies watching Netflix like you always do?”

I was fairly sure Madison wanted to strangle her sister. I just laughed and did my best to keep up with the car, which I finally could see was a Toyota Celica.

The driver escaped my little neighborhood and flew through the suburbs at dangerous speeds. Madison howled as I got the car up to sixty.

“You're driving almost twenty miles over the limit,” she said. “I could write you a ticket for this.”

I grinned. “But you won't.”

We approached a stop sign at an empty four-way intersection. The creep ran it without even slowing down.

“Don't you dare,” Madison warned me. “There's a limit to how many laws I can let you break while turning a blind eye.”

I sped straight through without a word. Jenna cheered; Madison cussed at me but had little else to say.

“We can't afford to stop,” I said gently. “I gotta catch this guy. If I don't, and something happens to you or Jenna, I'd never forgive myself.”

We were heading through downtown now. There were lots of cars on the road here, innocent bystanders, and the Celica's driver was starting to get desperate.

He weaved in and out of traffic, but all the vehicles ahead of him slowed him some. I had a close call when some driver drifted into my lane without looking.

“Someone is going to get seriously hurt,” Madison cried. “Can't you steer him toward the rural areas on the outskirts of town?”

“You got it.”

I positioned our car so he couldn't turn left, toward the busier part of the city, instead forcing him to head to the highway. There was more open space out here, but also fewer cars.

Soon as we got off the main road, he jammed on the gas and got up to eighty. So did I, but it was useless.

“He just keeps going faster,” Jenna said. “Hey, Mad. How about he does that PIT maneuver thing you told me about?”

She glared. “Don't give him any ideas!”

Up ahead, a semi truck began to change lanes and nearly knocked the Celica off the road. That gave me a bit of a chance to catch up.

Jenna was right; nabbing him at this rate would be pretty much impossible. There had to be a way to force him to stop.

Not very far ahead was a pickup truck, its bed full of all sorts of items, tools and junk. The driver hit a bump; something fell from the back and rolled at high speed into the road.

It happened too fast for the Celica to dodge. The driver hit the debris head on, slowed, then spun out in a circle before crashing hard into the guardrail.

“Oh God,” Madison yelled. “What if you killed him?”

“Well, he should have thought about that before spying on you.”

We pulled off the highway behind the Celica. It didn't move; smoke gushed from beneath the hood. In the dark, the driver's outline was just barely visible. He lifeless body slumped forward, face-down on the steering wheel.

Madison smartly reached for her gun in the glove box. I almost told her to wait in the car, but thought better of it because she wasn't gonna listen to me regardless.

“Stay here, Jenna,” she said firmly. “This guy might be dangerous.”

We walked in silence to the dead car, and I half expected the driver to wake up and zoom away once more. But he didn't.

I grabbed the door handle; Madison stood to my side with her gun raised. Our eyes met. She nodded.

“Let's see what we have here,” I grunted, pulling open the crumpled door.

Inside was a guy who could have passed for a caveman if not for his modern clothes. He sported a head of messy, unkempt hair and a scraggly beard. His arms had more tattoos on them than mine.

“Sure looks like a criminal, doesn't he?”

The guy groaned and sat up, the moonlight shining on his face for the first time. Madison's brow furrowed. She pushed me out of the way and stared.

“What's up? Is he someone you know?”

The man's eyes opened, big and green – and holy shit, why did he look so much like Madison?

They gaped at each other for a long while without saying a word. Finally, she lowered her weapon.

“Yeah, I know him,” she whispered. “That's my brother Charlie.”

Chapter 18 - Madison

 

Nearly twenty years had passed since the last time I had seen Charlie. But when I saw him tonight, even with the beard and the bags under his eyes, I recognized him at once.

“Hello, Mad,” he said softly, rubbing his bleeding head. “I'm back.”

Jenna ran from the car to see what we were all gawking at. She took one look at him and shrieked.

“Is that... who I think it is?”

Charlie smiled. “Little sister. Lord, you've grown up so much.”

Brett, dumbfounded, let her push him out of the way. She reached into the car to help him to his feet, tears streaming down her face.

“It was you?” I blurted. “You were the one stalking us all this time?”

“We thought you were dead,” Jenna added. “What the hell were you thinking? Why follow us and hide in the shadows instead of knocking on our door?”

“I have answers for everything. Don't be mad at me following you around; I just... I wanted to see you girls so badly, but I was so scared.”

Though Charlie had grown up, there was still the same dark coldness in his eyes that had always been there. As I helped him into the backseat of my car, a million questions swirled in my mind.

Jenna got in with him and shut the door, leaving me and Brett alone in the street. He turned to me, looking rather shell-shocked.


That's
your brother? The guy who vanished after that incident with your house?”

I nodded. “It seems so surreal, like it can't be true. To be honest, I doubted I'd ever see him again.”

Brett curled me up in one of his reassuring hugs. “It's got to be hard. I'm here for you, okay?”

“Yeah, I know you are.”

“And Maddie?” He paused. “Don't take this the wrong way, but I'm not so sure you should trust him, even if he is your brother. Something about him seems off.”

Not to mention him following us around town like a creeper. Still, I was sure he had a reason for it. He'd always had his reasons.

Brett kindly offered to drive back to his house. I agreed; after this, I was in no condition to take the wheel. My legs were shaking like mad and my stomach churned from all the excitement.

Back inside the car, Jenna pummeled Charlie with questions. I handed him a pack of tissues to dab the wound on his forehead.

“Do you need to go to the hospital?”

“No, I'll be fine.” He shook his head. “Man, I missed you.”

“Where have you been? And I want the whole story,” I insisted. “After the fire, you vanished. The whole city looked everywhere for you. Mom and dad were devastated.”

“I didn't show myself to you,” he said slowly, “because I was ashamed. I've done some bad things, Mad. I didn't want you to know that about me.”

“What did you do?”

“The fire.” He took a deep breath. “I'm pretty sure it was my fault.”

Jenna and I exchanged nervous glances. Brett said that Charlie couldn't be trusted. What if he was right? If he'd done something horrible, could I turn a blind eye just because he was my sibling?

“Back in high school, I felt so alone and misunderstood. Then I met a couple of guys. I didn't have friends, you know, and I was just real happy to feel accepted for once. That's how I got into cooking and selling meth with them.”

Jenna yelped. “Charlie, you were a
drug dealer?
What were you thinking?”

“I guess I just got into it 'cause I was afraid to lose the only people who seemed to accept me.” He shrugged. “We just sold to other kids and addicts on street corners for a while. Then some other dude came along, said he wanted to partner up with us. We started making product for him and he handled selling. The money rolled in.”

Brett put his hand on my leg and squeezed. I reached for him, suddenly realizing how much I'd needed him without ever knowing it. His touch was the only scrap of comfort I had to cling to.

“I'm sure we pissed a lot of people off. Our type tended to have plenty of enemies,” he went on. “But one day, I met this kid at school. I'll never forget him. He wasn't a druggie like most of the others. Was just some nice, normal guy who wanted something to help him take his SATs.”

Brett was incredulous. “So you sold this poor boy meth?”

“Yes, and... A few days later, he was found dead from an overdose. Saw it on the news.” He started to cry. “It was my fault. I've blamed myself for his death ever since.”

Jenna tried to hug him, to reassure him that he couldn't be certain that was truly his fault. This was how it'd always been: him freaking out or breaking down; her trying to cheer him up.

And me, caught in the middle of it all, not sure what to do or think.

Charlie was family, yet I suddenly felt like I never knew him at all.

“About a week later, the fire happened. I'm almost positive it was someone trying to get revenge for that dead boy. Someone who knew I'd sold him those drugs.” He buried his face in his hands. “The guilt was crushing, unrelenting. It was all I could think of until it drove me mad. I... I wanted to kill myself to make it stop. And then dad said I was going crazy, and he tried to stick me in the psych ward. I couldn't take it anymore. I ran.”

Part of me had always hated Charlie for abandoning us. Now, I just felt sorry for him.

“Where did you run to?” Jenna asked.

“Where anyone goes when they're trying to escape their past. I went south, to Mexico.” He showed us the tattoos on his arms, most of the words in Spanish. “I decided I'd start a new life there. I could never return home. I was terrified of getting caught for what I'd done.”

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