He spends a few minutes going over his technical analysis of the damage and what he thinks started it. Then he gets into possible suspects, and my interest is piqued.
“So, from all that we can safely say that the trigger was an accelerant in the Laundromat attached to the apartment complex on the top floor. There were only three people living in the building at the time, thank God, because it was far from up to code. The owner of the laundromat is being questioned this afternoon. From what we can tell, he’s got a stack of back taxes and liens. We’re still looking for the owner of the apartments, but our investigation assumes him as the lead suspect. It sounds like this guy is trying to cash in on the insurance and cut his losses.”
Anger boils through me as I think of Fia being in a place that’s unsafe. I think I may need to pay this guy a visit and see for myself if he’s guilty or not. And then figure out who owns the apartment building so I can get some information from them.
“Do you have anything on the tenants? Names, numbers?”
Jim rustles some papers and makes a noise. “No, nothing. Looks like the people living there cleared out, but we’re sending someone over there today to try to locate and question any witnesses. I’ll keep you posted.”
“Thanks, Jim. Anything I can do to help, you let me know. I appreciate it.”
“Anytime, Phoenix.”
I stand outside of Moe’s diner, just watching the place for a second before I go in. I’ve heard of this place before, that it stays busy. Looking inside, I see it’s packed with people for the dinner rush, making me think the food must be really good. The waitresses are buzzing around dressed in fifties-style diner uniforms, and suddenly a blonde catches my eye.
“Fia?” I whisper.
Then I spot the owner over her shoulder looking at her ass. I glare at him, my vision turning red with anger, and I clench my fists at my side.
As if she hears me say her name, she freezes in place, staring back at me. Her mouth makes a perfect circle. She’s clearly shocked to see me. I’m wondering if it’s really such a coincidence that the owner of the Laundromat happens to own the diner where she works.
Looking back, I see his greasy eyes are still looking down her body, and I feel like I need to remove them from their sockets.
Charging in, I walk up to him, ready to punch him in the mouth. Just before I get to him, Fia steps in front of me.
“Derek, what are you doing here?” She looks around at the crowded diner, but nobody is looking at us. She looks over her shoulder at her boss, and then looks to me. She understands.
“I’m taking my break now. Why don’t you come with me outside so we can talk?”
Sensing my tension and that something was about to happen, she slips her soft hand in mine, and I immediately turn to dough, the anger slipping from me at her simple touch. She pulls me with her, away from her boss, and I watch as he talks to a redheaded waitress, completely unaware of what nearly happened.
Fia pulls me down a long hall, past the kitchen and out the back door to an alley. As soon as we are outside and the door clicks closed behind us, I’m on her.
“Fia,” I whisper against her lips, right before my mouth finds her. I have to taste, too. To reassure myself that I’ve found her. The tension and black clouds that had been building since I last saw her are washing away.
One hand goes to her waist to pull her flush against me while my other hand goes to the back of her neck to keep her from getting away. My whole body leans over her, towering her small frame and shielding her from view.
Her full lips are as soft as satin, and I taste her warm tongue as she opens for me. I suck her bottom lip into my mouth and bite down just a little. Then I sweep my tongue back inside, needing her more than I need my next breath. She lets out a moan, and I devour it, consuming her pleasure and letting it feed my soul. I want to inhale her passion and keep it only for myself, my inner caveman coming forward, needing to claim her.
When I need to taste more of her skin, my mouth moves down her chin, across her jaw, and down her throat. I’ve still got a grip on the nape of her neck, and I move her head so that I can take what I want. I’m not waiting for her to give me anything, though I probably should. Somewhere, very quietly in the back of my mind, I know I should be slowing down. But I push that thought farther back and keep selfishly taking her. Needing her.