“Do you remember the burning of St. Mary’s Cathedral last year?” Jasmine asks me.
I whip my head around to stare at her sitting beside me. “Yeah?”
I stand behind the bar, cleaning it up after closing with the TV on. I normally never watch it but was tired of silence while being here alone.
A reporter stands in front of the once St. Mary’s Cathedral. Smoke fills the night while firefighters try to put it out behind her. At this point, it’s a total loss. “At this time, some are throwing speculation out regarding arson, but nothing has been confirmed yet.” It goes to a commercial, and I turn it off and throw my towel onto the bar, ready to go home.
It was hard to miss. It was heartbreaking because it was so pretty. “What about it?” I ask Jasmine. What does that have to do with my bar?
She looks over my shoulder for a quick second and then back to me. “That was Cross. He set that fire.”
I slowly stand and turn to where I can face him. He leans against the bar in the kitchen, looking at me unphased. “You set the cathedral on fire?” I ask slowly, expecting him to laugh at me. That’s absurd, right?
He doesn’t answer. Just fucking silence.
“Why would you do that?” I demand, still thinking it’s impossible.
“Because a friend needed him.” Titan is the one who answers.
“What kind of friend has you do that?” I snap.
“One who loves his wife,” Bones answers.
“What—?”
“We had some friends who were to be married there,” Jasmine interrupts me. “Someone wanted them dead, and we had been told that it was going to happen while at their wedding. The Kings were going to attend. It would have been mass casualties,” Jasmine says softly, staring down at her hands in her lap. “Cross set it on fire and saved all of us that would have been there in attendance.” She swallows. “He paid off the fire marshal then too so the report would show no foul play.”
Foul play? My heart picks up at those words. They’re the same ones I read online about the fire that killed his father. But I don’t have time to think about that right now. I’ll circle back. Right now, I need to focus on Lucky’s.
I run a hand through my hair, not understanding. “This has nothing to do with my bar. Who was that guy?” I point at the door. “Why didn’t he tell the police it was arson? And why the fuck did you give him money?” I’m not an idiot. There was cash in that bag. “And why the hell did he strip down.” My mind wonders out loud.
Where does that leave me? Because now I can’t go to the police and file a report. No matter if it’s arson or not, they’ll want a statement, and Cross wouldn’t let me tell them anything. Said he’d take care of it.
“He was the fire marshal. I needed to make sure he wasn’t wearing a wire.” Cross finally speaks, and the answers knock the wind out of me because a part of me already knew who he was. I just didn’t want to admit it to myself. “I paid him off to lie on his report.”
“Why would you do that?” Tears sting my eyes. Lucky’s is my livelihood. I was in the process of remodeling it, and then Jasmine and I were doing Kink. Now what?
“Because if he told the police the truth, then they’d only get in my way,” he answers flatly.
“That is their job, Cross. What could they possibly get in the way of?” I snap at him.
“Making him pay.”
“Who is he?” I ask, hands start to tremble. Everything is falling apart, and nothing makes sense.
“Mitch,” he answers.
I start shaking my head. “He wouldn’t …” I trail off before I can even finish that sentence. Why would Mitch set my bar on fire? I never confirmed I’m with Cross, but I also never told him I wasn’t. He was the one who brought up Cross’s dad, and the news article said that Oak Grove caught fire. But the statement said no foul play or arson.
Swallowing nervously, I plop back down on the couch next to Jasmine. That’s what Bones meant by he is setting Cross up. Whoever it was wanted me to suspect Cross. But I was with him. If it was Mitch, he had to have known I was with Cross at the time, right? It couldn’t have been him.
CROSS
BONES STEPS FORWARD to speak at the same time the door to our suite flies open.
“What in the hell is going on?” Grave demands, entering the room, holding April’s hand.
“Oh, thank God.” She sighs when she spots Alexa sitting on the couch. April lets go of Grave and runs over to Alexa. She pulls her up from the couch and hugs her tightly. “I’ve been worried sick. I was praying you weren’t there.”