Page 180 of Enemies

He relents. “I heard the firefighters say there was some kind of accelerant inside. Now, Mr. King was found in the building. The only person found in the building.”

Hostility slices through the fear in my gut. “You don’t think he did this? Kings is set to open in less than three months.”

“Why would he be inside?”

“To try and save his damned club!”

He sighs, and I play with the strap on my purse.

“We’ll be reviewing security footage. If anyone was staking out the building after dark this week, or arrived tonight, maybe we’ll be able to see who.”

No, you won’t.

Thanks to me, the exterior security cameras have been out for the past two days.

26

HARRISON

“You need to lie down.”

I look up from where I’m seated on the side of the hospital bed at the nurse’s voice.

“I’m fine,” I rasp, spreading my hands carefully to avoid jarring the IV in the back of one.

It’s been hours since I got here. I have no idea how many as I’ve been subjected to countless tests and questions. My lungs burn from the smoke. I’ve been turning over what happened.

How I arrived at my new club to see it engulfed in flames.

I ran inside to see if I could find the root of the damage.

Raegan appears in the doorway, dressed in clothes she must’ve pulled on in a hurry, her hair tugged up in a messy knot. Her face sags with relief when she sees me, before her brows pull together in concern.

“You’re here.” My words end on a cough. I grab water from the table, swallowing rapidly.

“I got to the club soon after you did.” Rae brushes past the nurse to my side.

I crumple the paper cup in my grip. “I told you to stay at the condo.”

The words are harsh, but she doesn’t flinch.

“I’m supposed to watch the man I love walk away? I don’t think so.” Her lips twitch. “Besides, you’re not as scary as you think you are.”

I glance down to take in the hospital gown. “Christ.”

“They were out of Brioni.”

My eyes narrow, but her fingers thread with mine, making the IV tug. It’s nothing compared to the pain to come.

“They said it wasn’t the sign,” she whispers, and if it’s possible, I feel worse at her expression of guilt.

“It wasn’t the sign,” I tell her firmly. The beautiful sign she arranged to have put up while I was distracted.

Unfortunately, that distraction had a price.

“But there’s no surveillance footage of any vehicles in the area, anyone who could’ve shown up to set the fire. They said they’ll canvass other businesses in the area to look for clues.”

“They won’t find anything.” My words are biting, and she flinches.

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