Consumed (Firefighters #1)(101)

Moose was sitting on a bench in front of the Lunch Depot, but his head was lowered and he was fiddling with something.

“Hey, Moose.”

He looked up. “Hey, Anne. Thanks for coming.”

But instead of getting up to go inside the restaurant, he just continued to run a thin gold necklace through his fingers.

“You ready to eat?” she asked.

When he shook his head, she sat down next to him and tried not to let her unease show. Not that he was looking at her.

“Danny’s been fucking Deandra.”

As he spoke the words, her first response was to laugh. That woman was nothing that he went for—

“She came to the stationhouse this morning. She said he was fucking her and he lied when he said they weren’t.”

With total clarity, she remembered going into Danny’s room that first night she went to see him and finding that lingerie on the floor of his bedroom.

But we weren’t together then, she told herself.

“Deandra said she couldn’t wait until he fucked her again.” Moose rubbed his face. “Look, I don’t know what the status of your relationship is with him, but you’ve got to understand about the two of them. He slept with her right before our wedding.”

Anne twisted around so she could look right at the man. “What are you talking about?”

“He fucked her at the apartment. I found the two of them in his bed when I came back from the rehearsal dinner.” He cursed. “I love her so much. She’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“Moose, I’m not following.” Or maybe it was more like she didn’t want to hear. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I saw them in bed. It was after people had split for the night after the rehearsal dinner. I wasn’t supposed to see her until we met at the altar. I was staying at the honeymoon suite downtown at the Crescent Hotel, you know? ’Cuz that’s where we were gonna be after the ceremony and reception for the wedding night. But I forgot my tux at the apartment.”

Anne’s heart started to beat hard. “So you went back for it?”

“Yup. Walked in and heard these noises. I thought the TV was on, and it’s like . . . I didn’t turn the lights on. I just had this feeling. I went down the hall . . . I could smell her perfume. Her dress was on the floor outside his room. I went far enough to hear her say his name and I left.”

Her head was spinning, a cold sweat breaking out all over her body, especially as she thought about the bullshit that had run through her idiot brain that morning.

“Why did you marry her?” she blurted.

When what she really wanted to ask was, Why did I fall for that crap?

“I almost didn’t go. But she called me that morning in tears. She said she loved me. I never told her what I’d seen. All I cared about was that she wanted to marry me. She wanted to be with me—not him. She picked me—not him. Moose won over the great Danny Maguire. Finally.”

Anne focused on Moose properly and saw through his partying, his linebacker persona, his brash frat-boy car freak. As he sat beside her, he was a slightly overweight, going-on-pudgy wannabe next to the cool kids, the keep-up instead of the leader, the wingman instead of the stud.

“I’ve tried to make her happy. I swear, Anne.” His anxious eyes bored into her like he was giving testimony. “I did ever thing I could, but it’s never enough. She’s never happy—and it’s because the truth is, I didn’t win. She married me for the same reason I had to tell you about him. He’s a toxic man for women. Deandra knew that he wouldn’t ever settle down with her, and so I was second prize. You gotta know that he uses woman, Anne. He’s a bad guy.”

Looking away, Anne seriously considered turning to the trash bin next to her and throwing up.

“Don’t think you’re different,” Moose said. “I guess that’s what I’m really saying. We all saw him flirt with you when you were on the crew. We used to have bets how long it was going to take for him to fuck you because any woman he’d ever wanted he got. But you armed-lengthened him, and that just kept him interested in you. He focused on you because he couldn’t get you. And then there was the fire. Now, you’re back and I don’t know what you’re doing with him for sure, but I have a feeling it’s the same thing he’s doing to my wife.”

Anne opened her mouth. Closed it.

“I know he crashed at your place last night. You’re telling me he slept on your couch?” Moose got up and stretched. “I can’t go in that restaurant and eat. I want to vomit.”

That makes two of us.

“When it came out at the stationhouse, I nearly killed him,” Moose said. “Well, first I nearly killed her. Then I went after him. I was told to take some time to collect myself, and that’s when I called you. I’m not telling you this to take something away from him or some shit. I’m fucking done with him. But I don’t want you to be made a fool of like I’ve been. And I’m guessing by that expression on your face that you feel the way I do.”

Anne glanced down to duck his stare, and as she looked at her prosthesis, she actually thought, for a split second, that this was much, much worse than losing her hand.

Because this meant she couldn’t judge reality at all.