The Darkest Link (Second Circle Tattoos) (23 page)

He entered her slowly, in awe of how ready she was for him.

Lia arched her back, pressing her head into the pillow. Her eyes closed as she groaned. “I missed you, too.”

Reid slid one of his hands down the curve of her side, allowing his thumb to glide over the pillow of her breast and across her nipple. He dragged it lazily over her skin, sliding his hand underneath her ass and pulling her tightly against him until he was so deep, they became one. “Look at me, Lia.”

She did as he asked, and he stared down into her eyes as he began to increase the pace. Each time he went deeper, withdrew a little farther, and repeated it a little more quickly. Over and over he did it until he was pounding into her as he promised. The need to own her, to claim her, to make her his own, took over. Lia slid her hand down between the two of them, and he watched as she began to play with herself, frantically chasing the edge. The sight made his balls tighten.

All the while, she kept those guileless gray eyes of hers on his. He saw every emotion pass through them. Excitement, pleasure, arousal, and surprise. The moment she started to come, he knew because not only did he feel it, he saw it, the raw emotion of it.

“I love you, Lia,” he gasped as he followed her over the edge.

* * *

Lia opened her eyes in the darkness. A sound like glass bottles being dropped in a Dumpster echoed from outside. Her eyes drifted closed again. She couldn’t keep them open. Reid had kept her up most of the night. Between his hands, his mouth, and that wonderful part of his anatomy that seemed to stand at perpetual attention, she was exhausted, and deliciously sore. Sex had always been something fun, but doing it with somebody she was madly in love with was a whole new experience. Especially when that somebody was great at delivering and just a little bit bossy. Who knew she liked being told what to do? With most of her other lovers, she’d always been the one to take the initiative, but with Reid, she never felt the need.

They’d made love several more times that evening. The only break had involved pizza. Reid had tried to convince her that they should get showered and changed so he could take her out and show her off on her birthday. It hadn’t taken much to convince him to stay home. She stretched her body, naked except for the necklace she wore with a sparkling cherry on it. It was a beautiful piece of birthday jewelry, and he’d very much deserved the blowjob she’d given him as thanks.

Sleep was just about to take her when she heard the sound of glass again. Kenny’s Auto Shop was definitely not in the best part of town. For a moment she worried about the Impala, which was parked by the stairs to the apartment. But Reid had told her once that he was well-known in the neighborhood, and she’d seen that firsthand with the boys he played basketball with. She wondered if the club he supported needed funds. It would be great to do something helpful with the money Granny Emmeline had left her.

Reid draped his arm across her middle and pulled her close. In his sleep he’d forgotten about his pact to leave her alone. Before they had settled down for the night, he’d attempted to insist that he should sleep on the sofa so as not to disturb her arm while they slept. But she had quickly nixed his idea. They’d reached a compromise. Reid had built a fort of pillows and cushions around her and had taken great care to ensure her arm was properly supported. But somehow in sleep, Reid had systematically tossed and turned all of the pillows out of his way until he could get to her. She smiled, the thought reassuring.

For some reason it seemed to ache worse at night, and she kicked herself for leaving her pain medication at home. Unable to find sleep again, she decided to use the washroom. She slipped out from under Reid’s hold and padded barefoot across the room. As she passed the bedroom door, she smelled the slightest whiff of smoke. When she’d smelled something similar earlier, Reid had explained that it sometimes happened when a lot of angle grinding or welding was going on down below.

She decided to get some water after using the bathroom. As she approached the kitchen, the smell of smoke seemed stronger.

The floor beneath her feet became progressively warmer as she walked toward the door. A wisp of smoke curled underneath the door, and without thinking she pulled it open. Smoke filled the apartment, a low hazy mist that immediately made her cough and splutter. Fire was making its way up the far wall by the front door. His sofa was already fully alight.

“Reid,” she screamed at the top of her voice. She ran to his side of the bed and shook him.

“Whassup,” he mumbled, still very much asleep.

“Reid, please. There’s a fire.” Terror like she’d never known pierced through her like sharp needles. She filtered through all the fire safety information she could remember. Stop, drop, and roll. Covering yourself in wet towels. Were you supposed to open windows or was that what caused a backdraft? Shit. Why couldn’t she remember?

“Fire!” she screamed in Reid’s ear, and that seemed to do the trick. He jumped out of bed and took in the smoke.

“Fuck,” he shouted. He ran to the bedroom door, took in the burning room, and slammed the door shut before grabbing his phone. “Fuck,” he said again. He dialed the fire department.

“Babe,” he said, tucking the phone under his chin as he opened the blinds and windows wide open. “Go to the bathtub, start filling it and soak a towel, then wring it out and place it by the door.”

As she hurried to the bathroom, she heard him explain that there was an out-of-use old wooden ladder at the back of the apartment. While the water was running, she ran back into the bedroom and grabbed a dress from her suitcase. To hell with underwear, she didn’t have time. She yanked it over her head and ran back into the bathroom. She dragged the towel back into the bedroom, soaking her skirt as she walked.

Strange noises came from the living room. She’d never imagined that fires would be noisy. It was a constant roar offset by loud bangs as things . . . what? Exploded? Oh God, his business. “What about your garage?” she asked Reid as she tucked the towel into the gap under the door.

Reid pulled on jeans and sneakers. “Can’t think about that now. We’ve got to save ourselves.” He gestured her over to where he was standing by the open window and handed her a pair of her shoes. She slipped them on her feet. He grabbed his wallet and her purse. “There’s an old staircase out of this window.” He pointed outside. Black-and-yellow caution tape crisscrossed the bottom of the stairs. Steps and the handrail were missing in places. They were about one and a half floors from ground level. “It’s in really bad shape and hasn’t been in use since before I moved in here. I honestly don’t know if it can even take our weight. The fire department is on its way with ladders, so I think our best bet is to wait until they get here unless the fire beats them to us.”

A loud crack sounded in the living room, and they both looked toward the bedroom door, where smoke was beginning to seep in around the frame, leaving black burn marks up the wall. “I’m really scared, Reid,” she said.

He cupped her face in his hands. “Me, too, babe. But we need to stay calm.” Reid left her for just a moment and quickly grabbed her suitcase. In one quick action, he zipped it up and threw it out of the window.

Lia shrieked.

“Better out there than in here.” He grabbed the brace for her arm and helped to put it on.

It hurt as they clipped it into place, and the tears that had been burning her eyes took the opportunity to fall.

“I’m sorry,” he said, kissing her forehead firmly. “However we get out of here, you need to try to protect this.”

Reid fell to his knees and pulled a black sports bag from under the bed. He hurried to the dresser and started pulling out underwear, socks, and T-shirts by the handful. With a swift push, he sent the sliding doors of his closet open.

Lia heard sirens. She looked back out of the window and saw a fire truck coming into view. “They’re here, Reid,” she yelled over the noise, waving furiously at the truck.

Reid threw his bag out toward her suitcase just as two firemen rounded the corner with ladders.

One of them climbed up the ladder so quickly that Lia barely had time to blink, and before she knew it, with assistance from Reid she was on her way down. Gripping the ladder for dear life with her one good hand, she had little opportunity to keep her dress down. It was probably the stupidest time to worry about the fact that she wasn’t wearing underwear, but she couldn’t help herself.

Despite the firefighters’ warnings to stay put, Reid started down as soon as she was clear of the ladder. He raced over to her and tugged her into his embrace.

“We’re safe,” he said, and sobbed into her hair.

* * *

Reid stood frozen to the spot, unable to put words to the emotions swirling in his head as he watched the hoses spray water into his burned-out garage and severely damaged apartment. Even the shattering sound of the apartment windows blowing out hadn’t shaken him out his shock. Lia flinched in his arms, and buried her tearstained face against his chest. He wrapped his arms more tightly around her. She thought he was giving her comfort, when in truth her presence was the only thing keeping him anchored.

He focused on trying not to puke.

“Kenny,” Jarod called, making his way through the small but ever-growing group of onlookers. “Holy shit, man. Are you guys okay? I heard the sirens, they woke me up. What the fuck happened?”

“No clue, man. Lia woke up and started shouting.” He looked down at her. “What made you get out of bed, babe?”

Lia looked up at him. Her face was covered in dark lines from the smoke and soot. “I heard something. Like glass being smashed. I just assumed it was somebody Dumpster diving.”

“Once the fire is out, I think we should tell somebody about that. They’re going to be asking questions about how the fire started, and . . . I don’t know . . . That may have something to do with it.”

“Do you want me to call and text the guys?” Jarod asked. “I mean, it’s obvious nobody can come to work tomorrow.”

Reid hadn’t even thought that far ahead. Because if his thinking did extend beyond the flames currently licking outside the upper-floor windows, he might just fall apart like a classic car that no longer had any suspension.

“Sure. I have no idea what this means, but I promise I’ll contact the insurance company tomorrow and figure it out.”

Jarod pulled out his cell phone and started typing.

The fire was finally well under control, but he wasn’t.

Reid glanced down at Lia. He didn’t know exactly what time it was, his phone having long-since died, but he figured it was somewhere around three in the morning. Her eyes were closed and her arms were wrapped around his waist. Well, one of them was. The one in the brace was hanging at a strange angle while propped on his hip. She needed some sleep; they both did.

“Hey, do you guys want to crash on my sofa?” Jarod asked. Reid was touched by the offer. Jarod’s place was tiny, and had he been alone, he might have said yes. But he wanted something better for Lia.

“Thanks, bud, it’s kind of you, but I don’t want to impose. Any chance you can find us a place to stay while we talk to the cops? I know Fort Pierce doesn’t have the best selection, but if we can avoid a fucking motel, I’d be most grateful.”

“On it, Kenny,” he said.

Officer Grady Cole made his way over. They’d often worked together through the mentoring program, when Grady would swing by the club to talk with the kids. “Reid. I’m so sorry. I know how much that garage meant to you, and it really sucks. But I promise we’re going to do everything in our power to figure out what happened tonight. If criminal activity caused this, the perps will suffer to the fullest extent of the law.”

Reid shook the hand the officer had extended in his direction. His ability to make small talk had been burned up in the flames. He was usually great with crowds of people, but now—ironic as it might seem—he just wanted to stand and watch his garage burn. Like a captain and his ship, he felt the need to stand alongside the place that had given him a home when he’d needed it until the bitter end. If Jedi mind tricks were actually possible, he would have pulled one off by now. Something would have been saved. The cars of people who trusted him to do the repairs would still be safe. His laptop, filled with ideas for his business, would not be melted to dripping blobs of plastic and metal in what was left of his kitchen. And Lia’s drawing of the super bike would not be ashes on his living room floor.

But he was nothing more than human. And there was nothing he could do to stop the way the flames destroyed everything he had worked for. Insurance was cold comfort. It would take months to rebuild, during which time many of his clients would find somewhere else to have their cars serviced.

“Thank you, Grady,” he said. “Lia said she heard glass bottles shattering shortly before the fire. I don’t know what else we can tell you, but is there any chance we could get the fuck out of here? Because I don’t think I can watch the rest of this.”

“Sure thing, but one question: Is there anyone you can think of who would have done something like this to you? Did you have a disagreement with a supplier, fire an employee, anyone who would want to get back at you over something?”

Winston. He was convinced more than ever.

“Yeah. I had a disagreement with the father of the guy who’s in prison for assaulting my sister. The father’s name is Winston Bell. He’s out of Chicago. Fancy-ass lawyer with lots of cash.”

Lia looked up at him suddenly. “You think he’s involved?”

Reid nodded and quickly made the introductions between Lia and Grady.

“You argue enough for him to do this?”

“He wouldn’t do it himself. He’d get some monkey to do it for him. There was an incident in Miami two weeks ago. It’s how Lia hurt her arm.”

“But the police in Miami don’t think Winston had anything to do with it,” Lia said.

He knew that. And he’d even started to get his head around the idea that Winston wasn’t involved. Until someone had turned his garage into a pile of bent metal and ash.

“They don’t,” he said to Grady. “But do me a favor and call Detective Carter. I’ll text you his number so you can compare notes.”