Page 82 of The Edge of Summer
She shakes her head. “Honestly, that woman can kiss my?—”
“Luke,” Gabe calls, cutting her off. “Have you seen Forrester and Greenaway? They said they were coming to help me, but that was a long fucking time ago.”
I sigh. “I’ll go find them.”
Kevin Forrester and Mike Greenaway are two of our newest volunteer recruits, both still in their probationary period. So far, I’m not sure how I feel about them. On paper, they’re the perfect candidates and look like great additions to the crew. But there’s something about them—something I can’t exactly put my finger on—that throws me off.
After searching damn near the entire building, I finally find them in the kitchen, sitting at the table. They have their heads bent over a phone, totally oblivious to my presence. I’m already a little pissed that they’re shrugging off their duties when they are supposed to be downstairs helping, but what happens next just adds to my anger.
“Damn,” Greenaway says. Forrester whistles.
As I walk up behind them, ready to hand them their asses, I catch a flash of dark hair on the phone’s screen. I stop in my tracks. Something about it seems familiar. I inch closer, taking in the familiar sight. Forrester must sense me behind him because he tries to tuck his phone away, but I snatch it from his hand.
Shock holds me captive. A picture of Delilah stares back at me. It’s not simply a picture of her that has me seeing red—it’s the fact that in it, she’s completely topless. She looksnervous, like she isn’t sure about taking the picture. The floral tattoo on her shoulder is missing, which means that the picture has to be from sometime before she moved here. But it’s her.
“Hey! That’s my phone!” Forrester turns in his chair, glaring at me. Wrong fucking move.
I haul him out of his seat by the collar of his shirt and shove him against the nearest wall. I don’t tend to lose my temper this way, but like hell am I going to let Delilah be disrespected in my house.
“Chief, what the hell?” Greenaway shouts.
I ignore him. “Why do you have a picture of my—” I cut myself off. She isn’tmine, in any sense of the word, and that’s no one’s fault but my own. “Where the fuck did you get this?” I demand instead, shoving the phone in Forrester’s face.
“It’s all over the internet,” he says with a shrug. He is much too nonchalant for someone who is seconds away from being punched in the face. “She seemed familiar when she first moved here. Couldn’t remember where I’d seen her. When I Googled her name, it all popped up. There’s articles about the leak.”
The prospect of these pictures being accessible with a single search has dread pooling in my gut.
“Delete it.”
“Man, I?—”
“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll do as you’re told. And then I never want to see this shit in my house again. That picture clearly wasn’t meant for you, so keep your goddamn eyes to yourself.”
“Yes, sir,” he mocks.
“What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”
His eyes harden. “Yes, sir.”
I release him and hand his phone back. I cross my arms, waiting as he removes the picture from his camera roll. “Now get out of my sight,” I command.
Forrester adjusts the collar of his shirt, and then he and Greenaway slink out of the kitchen. When I’m sure they’re gone, I release a frustrated breath as I run a hand through my hair. I feel like punching something. It isn’t like I have any kind of claim over Delilah, so why am I this angry? The way that I’m feeling goes beyond a general distaste for Forrester and Greenaway’s actions.
One thing I know for sure is that I need to talk to Delilah.
I watch the clock while the open house carries on around me. I go through the motions of answering questions and being the dutiful fire chief I’m expected to be, but all the while, I’m waiting for that beautiful brunette to walk through the door. When Gabe notices how antsy I am, all he does is shake his head in quiet pity. I’m not the one he should be pitying. I haven’t been in love with my sister’s childhood best friend for the better part of my life.
When Delilah finally walks into the station with Sophia and my sister, I head right for them. After seeing that picture, all I could think about was talking to her. To reassure myself that she’s okay.
“Hey,” Delilah says. The smile on her face falls when she takes note of my expression. “What’s up?”
“I need to talk to you,” I say.
She glances down at Sophia. “Can it wait?”
I shake my head. “I’d rather not.”
Clara glances between us, worried. I think she can tell that whatever is going on is serious because she takes Sophia by the hand. “C’mon, let’s go find Abbs,” Clara says to her. “I think my brother brought her today.”
