Consumed (Firefighters #1)(99)

“Who was the investigator on your end?”

“Bob Burlington.”

“Wait, didn’t he die?”

“In a boating accident eighteen months ago. And excuse me if I keep the air quotes to myself on that one. His body washed up on shore three days after he was seen heading out into the sound. They said he’d had a heart attack, but the sharks got ahold of him. Hard to know if he had any other pertinent injuries.”

“What does this have to do with you, Sister.”

“I’m not sure yet, but I’m putting the pieces together.”

As her eyes swung back up to his, she shook her head. “Nothing? Why?”

“Remember when you used to sneak out of the house at night after Dad died? Mom would ask us at breakfast if we’d walked around after bedtime—and you’d have this exact same expression on your face.”



* * *



Even though Danny had only had twenty-four hours off, he was back at the 499, and for once, it seemed like it was going to be a slow day. Then again, it wasn’t freezing cold, so the space heaters hadn’t come out in force yet, and people were no longer doing crazy stuff from the summer heat. Also, not a full moon, so bonus.

After running a drill on breathing apparatuses, he was doing laundry in the bay and thinking they needed a probie. And not just because if they had more crew members, they’d be able to get back to a more normal schedule—

“Oh, shit. Here we go.” As Duff spoke up from the Nautilus machine, the guy pointed out to the street. “Moose not make the bed this morning?”

Deandra got out of her BMW and marched across toward the stationhouse, her Chanel tote banging against her hip, her stilettos clipping over the pavement, her now-red hair flouncing in her wake like a war flag.

“Wasn’t she a blonde this past weekend?” Duff asked.

“I don’t keep up with it. I’ll go get him.”

“Is he here? He was late.”

“From fighting with her.”

After turning the dial on the industrial dryer, Danny went inside to the rec area. Moose was sitting on the sofa, legs crossed on the beat-up coffee table, hands linked on his beer gut.

“You got a visitor, my man.”

The guy didn’t look away from the Dr. Phil episode on the TV. “No, I don’t. I told her not to come.”

“She doesn’t speak English when it comes to ‘no.’ Remember how much your wedding cost?”

Deandra came in and stopped short. “You are a fucking asshole.” When Moose refused to acknowledge her, she went over and blocked his view of the television. “You canceled my credit card.”

Moose tilted to the side. “Can you move.”

“You know you fucking did—”

“No, I fucking didn’t.” The guy burst up to his feet. “You ever hear of a credit limit? Like, you spend the amount they’re willing to float you and then you can’t spend no more. They cut you off, Deandra.”

“You did this.”

“That bag did it.” He jabbed a finger at what was hanging off her shoulder. “How much was that? Huh? Two thousand dollars? Three? What the fuck, Deandra.”

“Stop saying my name like you’re my father or some shit.”

“Then be an adult and pay for your own shit.”

“You told me that you would make it good. That if I married you, you’d make it good. And here we are, living out in the sticks, and I can’t buy a Starbucks on the way to work because you—”

Danny stepped in between them. “Enough. You guys take this into the locker room if you have to, but you can’t do this here. Okay? The rest of us don’t need this—”

“He’s a better fuck than you, Moose.” Deandra smiled like a serial killer about to go to work. “He can make me come. You never have.”

Danny put his palms up and backed up. “I’m out. This is not my problem-”

“He’s been fucking me for the last month, Moose. And you know what I do, Moose, when you’re on shift? I put my hand on my pussy and I think of him—”

Moose went for her like he was going to snap her head off her spine, and Danny played human shield, jumping in between and taking the hit.

“Calm down, Moose—”

“You fucked my wife!”

All that rage got channeled at Danny, those meaty hands locking on his throat and shoving him backward.

“I did not fuck her—”

“And I love when he does!” Deandra yelled. “He fucks me better than you ever will and I can’t wait for him to—”

Danny grabbed Moose’s thick wrists and tried to pull the grip off. “Shut up, Deandra!”

Duff and Doc came barreling in, and the two of them grabbed onto Moose’s arms. But even they got nowhere, the four of them advancing to the pong table until Moose had Danny laid out on the playing surface.

“You are a fucking whore,” Moose spat as he started to bang the back of Danny’s head over and over again. “You’re a fucking—”

“I am not!” Deandra tossed back.

He’s not talking to you, bitch, Danny thought. “Moose—I didn’t fuck her!”

“Liar!” Red-faced and spitting, the man was trembling so badly his hair was flopping. “You fucked her—”