Page 3 of IOU

Oh, hell no.

No, he didn’t. What about me, huh? I’m the victim here! I am the one who came home and found the love of my life ravaging my roommate.

Me! Not her.

I grab another candle and go to hurl it when a massive body steps in front of me and plucks it from my hand. “Let me take that,” he says softly. The name on his uniform reads Bostic. “Why don’t you step outside with me and get some fresh air, huh?” His eyes are gentle. He’s probably a good dad—even better—a faithful husband.

I crane around Bostic’s massive shoulders and take one last look at what my life was. Tucker is holding Taylor’s sobbing body to him, smoothing his hands down her back.

Fucker.

Good riddance. Taylor can have him. I’m out.

I nod to Bostic and follow his lead through the door when Frank grabs my arm. “You’re done here, Ms. James. I don’t want you back on the property anymore. If I see you again, I’ll file a restraining order.”

Bostic makes a noise deep in his chest like he wants to say something but can’t. It doesn’t matter anyway. I wouldn’t stay here with Taylor if you promised me my very own pet sea lion. I nod. “Understood. But I’ll need to come back for my stuff.”

“Don’t bother,” shouts Taylor. “We’ll pack it up and leave it outside the door.”

The hell she will. Tomorrow, when everything settles down, I’ll talk to Frank and get my stuff. I have a class, and I’ll need my laptop.

Bostic pats a brawny hand on my shoulder. “Come on. Let’s get you out of here.”

My shoulders slump as we descend the stairs, the adrenaline of the past twenty minutes petering out.

“Here, eat this.” I stop mid-step and look at the mini pack of Skittles Bostic shoves at me. “You need the sugar.” I must still look skeptical because he adds, “It’ll help with the post-adrenaline crash.”

Oh. “I’m fine. Thank you, though.” I flash him a tired smile. “Are you waiting until the police come for me?”

He arches a brow. “What would the police want with you?”

“Because I lit the apartment on fire?” I suggest. I’d be a terrible criminal.

His lips twitch as if he’s holding back a smile. “It was a candle accident. Last I heard, accidents aren’t associated with jail time.”

He pulls us down the sidewalk and motions for me to sit on the step of the firetruck.

“Do you have a Dalmatian in the cab?” I ask. I could go for some puppy love right now.

Bostic chuckles. “No. No dog on this rig.”

“That’s a shame,” I mutter. “Everyone needs a dog.” And a sea lion. But I don’t add that comment. Bostic already thinks I’m crazy.

The sigh that leaves Bostic’s chest is deep and heavy. “You want to tell me what happened in there?”

Not really. “I think I’ll take those Skittles now.” I could use the comfort food.

He hands them over, and I waste no time ripping into the bag and throwing back a few of the sugary pieces.

“Was that your boyfriend?” He prompts again.

I swallow and meet his warm and friendly brown eyes. He looks concerned. Not like he’s trying to weasel a confession out of me. It’s probably safe to answer him with the truth. I can’t possibly screw tonight up any more than I already have. “Yeah.”

“He cheat on you?” Bostic is a good man, I can tell. I mean, I used to be able to tell. I thought Tucker was a good man too. Look how that turned out. But Bostic seems different, and if I were into older men in their forties with a healthy obsession with dumbbells, I probably would turn on my charm and dial back the crazy, but I don’t do rebounds or men who could be my daddy. Plus, I’m reasonably sure I have this man concerned for my mental well-being.

“Yeah.” I throw back a few more Skittles until the bag is empty and crinkle it between my fingers. Too bad it was snack size. “All I wanted to do is take a bath and play Who Wants to Be a Millionaire. I didn’t plan on causing a scene, but he was there, and neither of them looked the slightest bit remorseful when I walked in. I just reacted.”

I shrug like my reaction was uncontrollable. It was. I’m not making excuses for endangering lives. I’m merely saying I didn’t think at the time—being blinded by rage or whatever you want to call it. The fact is: Tucker and Taylor made a stupid decision tonight. And now, so have I.

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