Without another word, I take Liam’s hand and lead him to the exit, moving as fast as I can away from the intensity in Blaze’s eyes, from his hypnotizing voice, from that stare. I need to leave.
I’m torn enough already.
After a long fucking day of arguing with my father about his twisted idea of obligation, all I wanted was a quiet night. I needed some space to figure out how to tell him for the thousandth time I’m not taking over the family business. If it’s a puppet he wants, he has a better chance of convincing my brother Levi to leave NASCAR than of persuading me to go back home. I made my choice four years ago. I walked away. Now he’s pushing sixty and freaking out because he’s officially out of sons to run his empire.
I’d just leaned back in my chair, ready to prop my legs up on my desk and pop open a cold one, when I looked out the window of my upstairs office to see clouds of thick, gray smoke swallowing up the sky and flames dancing in the air like fiery ribbons. Who would’ve thought there could be such beauty in destruction? I set my beer down and ran outside because I wasn’t about to sit there and watch everything I’d busted my ass for wilt away under crackling flames. That’s when I saw him, standing there with tear-filled eyes staring at the inferno threatening to destroy everything in its path, focused on shattering my dreams. A kid. A fucking kid who looked like he was a million miles away, stuck in a hell with no way out.
I called the cops, knowing I’d probably be on a first-name basis with whichever one showed up. They run patrol and do security sweeps at my brewery, and in exchange I hook them up with a way to relax when they’re off duty. I was never going to press charges. I was fifteen once. I’ve made plenty of mistakes. I never set anything on fire, but I did drive getaway while Tommy Kosinski stole three bottles of Fireball from the neighborhood liquor store. Then the next week, I went back and hid fifty bucks in the bathroom out of guilt. Tommy doesn’t know about that or he’d kick my ass.
I had my whole speech figured out, knew exactly what I was going to say to the kid’s parents. Then she showed up—a walking, breathing contradiction, bold but withdrawn, a fighter but she’s holding back. A double-dog-dare in black leggings and a Metallica T-shirt. And fuck me, I’m a sucker for a challenge. And this thing, this visceral reaction my body had to being in the same room with her, had me rethinking every promise I’d ever made to myself about getting attached. Jesus, how long had it been since I’d had sex? Way too fucking long.
This is everything I don’t need right now.
Waves of dark brown hair fell over her shoulders while the most sublime fucking lips I’ve ever seen in my life did their best to spew defiance as her eyes screamed submission. This woman is going to be the death of me. And it’s going to be like poison. Slow, agonizing, seeping through my bloodstream until I can’t think straight.
Fuck.
I have insurance. I don’t need this kid to help clean up the mess he made. It’s not like the whole brewery burned down. The first fire started in a dumpster. The second fire never made it past the patio area. It’ll take some money and a little time to clean up and rebuild, but fortunately—or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it—time and money are two things I have plenty of. However, I know fuck all about construction. The smart thing to do would be hire someone and be done with it. Sign the release and walk away. Wish the kid my best and move along, but before I knew any better the words were spilling out of my mouth.
And the icing on the you’re about to fuck it all up cake? Liam is a foster kid. I forced myself to blink back memories of a face that still haunts my dreams. It’s been fifteen years since I lost the best friend I ever had to foster care. It was one of the worst days of my life, and I still feel it in my bones like it was yesterday. I re-live it in my nightmares. I should’ve been there. It never would have happened if I’d have been there. His parents would still be alive, and Micah would still be my best friend. Instead, I watched some asshole in navy-blue dress pants and a black polo force him into the backseat of some sedan. Micah said goodbye with tears streaming down his cheeks while my father made bullshit promises to me about doing whatever we could to get him back. No one should have to live through what he lived through that night. No one should have to witness the things he did. Especially not a ten-year-old fucking kid.
I glance down at the ink on my arm, at my very first tattoo. I carry my memories on my flesh like a souvenir, a constant reminder that everything in life is temporary. Friendship, hope, love… people. All a tiny blip in a great big universe. That’s why getting attached to those things is pointless. That’s why every filthy thing I’m thinking about doing to this woman stops right here, right now. I need to reel it in. I will reel it in.
George—sorry, Deputy Briggman—snickers under his breath as I watch Adrienne grab the kid and walk out the door. I mentally flip him the bird. I’ve given him enough free food and beer after a long shift to last a lifetime. I better not hear shit from him.
She disappears into the night, and I turn and glare at the two assholes behind the desk. “Not a fucking word.”
George holds his hands in the air in surrender. “Wasn’t even thinking of it.”
Glenn, the other deputy, smirks and leans back in his chair. “I’ll say it.” His steely eyes meet mine. “You’re fucked, son.”
I inhale a deep breath and don’t even argue with him. What would be the point? He’s right.
I
Am
Fucked.
Liam stares out the passenger side window into the glittering lights of the city as we make our way to the outskirts. The only light in the cabin of the car comes from the moon and the soft green glow of the numbers on the dash. Every once in a while, the beam from a streetlamp on the highway lights up his face.
I lower the volume on the radio. “So, you wanna tell me what happened tonight?”
He shakes his head without looking at me.
“Okay. You want to at least tell me how you got to a bar on the opposite side of town without a car or money for an Uber?”
He swallows then leans his forehead against the window. Silence.
I exhale, frustrated. “At some point you’re going to have to talk to me, Liam. This isn’t going away.”
“Just leave it alone, Miss M.”
I take a deep breath and remember he’s just a kid. Reminding him that I could lose my job or that Blaze could lose his business wouldn’t do either of us any good.
“Fine. We don’t have to talk about it right now.” I glance over at him. “But we will talk about it.”
After a long stretch of silence, he looks at me, his innocent features clouded with fear and remorse. A dark brown curl falls over his forehead, but he ignores it. “I can’t.”
“Can’t? Or won’t?”
“Can’t,” he says before staring back out the window.
I’m smart enough to know can’t means regardless of what he wants me to believe, he didn’t start that fire by himself. However. Whoever. Whatever coaxed him into it is going to have to answer to me.
I ease my foot from the gas pedal as I exit the interstate. “Well, thankfully Mr. Abbott was generous enough to give you a second chance.”