The Wedding Rescue, Book Five(9)

“Axel.”

“How did Axel know?” It didn’t matter. What mattered was my house. But I couldn’t quite get my head around that.

“He put cameras on your door. Part of a security system I asked him to install. They got an alert on the fire around the same time your neighbor saw it. If he’d had a chance to put in the full system, he would have known soon enough to catch it.”

“It’s bad?”

Dylan turned to look at me, his eyes concerned. “We’ll know more when we get there.”





5





Leigha




I was numb. For the rest of the ride I stared out the window, watching the familiar streets of Vegas fly by. My house was on fire. If the fire was big enough, the house would be a total loss. My house. Everything I owned was in that house. I had good insurance. Actually, it was great insurance. I wasn’t worried about the money. I was broke, but that was what insurance was for in the first place.

I’d be able to repair any damage, even buy a new house if I had to. But I’d never get back the pictures of my Dad, or my high-school debate team trophy, or Bugsy, the stuffed rabbit I’d had since I was in infant. We’d been inseparable until I started kindergarten. He was threadbare and faded, but I still loved him. He was on a bookcase in my bedroom. Maybe he’d be okay.

The warm pressure of Dylan’s hand around mine yanked my mind out of its useless wanderings. I wouldn’t know how bad it was until we got there. We were only a few minutes away and there was no point in worrying about the damage until I saw it for myself.

Four minutes later, I wished I hadn’t seen it. My cute little bungalow was engulfed in flames. They were stronger by the kitchen, but had spread to every part of the structure I could see. Tears blurred my eyes. Dylan parked the car on the opposite side of the street, three houses down, away from the confusion of fire trucks and flashing lights. He was opening my door a few seconds later.

Axel was on his way to us by the time we were walking toward the house. He met us in the middle of the street, putting out a hand to prevent us from going any further.

“They’ve blocked the street from the other side,” he said, “We can wait here. They’ll need to talk to you, Leigha.”

“What do you know?” Dylan asked, taking my hand and pulling me close to his side.

I leaned into him, needing his strength. My eyes were riveted to the flames shooting through the roof of my little house. I didn’t need to ask, I already knew it was a total loss. My heart squeezed with grief, and my stomach rolled from the acrid scent of my life burning to the ground.

I’d never been particularly materialistic. Maybe it was the accountant in me, always saving money instead of spending it on things I didn’t really need. But this wasn’t a new sweater or a big TV. It was my home. The first I’d ever bought and one I’d expected to have for years to come. It was the first place that was all mine, a haven where I’d felt free to be myself. I’d painted the walls myself, had chosen each pillow and curtain to fit my vision of a cozy refuge. Now it was well on its way to being a pile of ash.

I was so distracted by the fire, I almost missed hearing the word, ‘arson’. My head popped up, and my mind came back into focus. Arson? I didn’t have to work hard to come up with the one person who might have burned down my house.

“Are you sure?” I asked, interrupting Axel and Dylan’s quiet, intense conversation. Axel turned his sharp eyes to me.

“There’s an empty gas can in the back yard. The police have it, hopefully he was stupid enough to leave prints. They could smell the gas he spilled on his way in. They’ll have to complete their investigation, but that this point they’re sure it’s arson.”

Dark rage welled in my chest. My brain was screaming, ‘why?’. It was a stupid question. There was never a ‘why’ for something like this. Steven was a stupid, greedy asshole, and I’d been naive and blind enough to let him into my life. My breath came in choppy waves, my lungs tight with emotion and the caustic smoke clouding the air. Dylan turned me into his chest. Over my head, I heard him say,

“We fucked up. We should have taken him in last night.”

“Not your call, man. This is on me,” Axel responded, his voice heavy with regret.

“No. You knew what I would have said, and you did it. Fuck.”

Dylan rubbed a hand over my back, I think soothing himself as much as me. He was right, if Axel had called the police the night before, Steven would probably be in jail right now instead of running free and torching houses. I didn’t have it in me to be pissed at them. Maybe later. Just then I was too grateful for Dylan’s arms around me to be mad at him.