Scorched Edges (17 page)

“Whose idea was a masked ball?”

At Heath’s side, Aiden snorted but kept his head bowed.

“As soon as we’re done here, you’re going to be strapped over the nearest spanking bench, my love,” Heath growled.

Marty just caught the muttered “fuck you” that came from Aiden.

“Oh I will be. Fucking you, that is. You won’t be coming, though, not for a very long time.” The threat in Heath’s tone was crystal clear.

Marty shuddered. Heath and Aiden had a strange relationship—they both seemed to get off on the conflict between them. As if sensing Marty’s distress, Beau gave him a gentle kiss.

“Remember there are many kinds of submission, love. It’s not a one-size-fits-all kind of thing.”

Marty relaxed in his arms. “Of course. I should know better. It’s just that Heath is a little scary,” he whispered in Beau’s ear.

Heath smirked.

“I think he heard you, love.” Beau laughed.

“To answer your question, the ball is all Olly’s work. It’s going to be the event of the year, though I have a feeling he’s not just planning a party. Devious urchin is definitely up to something.”

Before Heath could expand, Becket and Christian came back followed by Carey and Alistair. Behind them, Goran, the assistant bar manager, had his huge arm around Benjy’s shoulders. Benjy, dressed in his waitstaff uniform, was wide-eyed and shaky.

Heath pulled up a few more chairs and they all sat in a ragged circle. Goran pulled Benjy onto his lap, making him seem even smaller.

Carey cleared his throat. “I think you all know Benjy. You may not know that his surname is Smith.”

There was silence as everyone absorbed Carey’s words. Marty spoke first, “You’re his brother. You’re Jonah’s brother. Oh, Benjy, what have you done?”

Benjy burst into tears. “I didn’t know! I’m sorry!” He curled into Goran’s arms.

Beau scowled. “Carey? Why aren’t you calling the police?”

“Because Benjy had no idea what his brother was up to. He’s an innocent pawn in all this.”

Benjy took in some sobbing gulps of air. “I had no idea. Please believe me. Jonah did community service after the fire here and he said it was a stupid mistake, that he’d only done it for the money. Everyone deserves a second chance so I accepted what he said. He seemed to have changed. He asked about everyone here, took an interest in my job and my friends. Then he got a post at The Marmalade Factory cinema and I didn’t see him very much. He always seemed to be working or out and about. He suggested that we go to the café for our social and I thought he was trying to make up for not being around.” Benjy snuffled and wiped roughly at his wet cheeks.

Goran petted him and made soothing noises.

“After the fire, he disappeared. I tried calling him but he’s not answering his phone. I worked out that he had to be involved but I didn’t dare say anything. I knew you’d all hate me.”

Marty’s heart broke for his friend, who was clearly distressed. “We don’t hate you Benjy. You didn’t set the fires. None of this is your fault.”

That made Benjy cry even harder. He buried his face in Goran’s enormous chest. Benjy’s entire body shook with sobs. “I should have said something straight away but I don’t know where he is, I really don’t. I’m not hiding him or covering up. He could have killed people. He could have killed me! He doesn’t care about me or anyone else.”

“Goran is going to take care of Benjy,” Carey said. “He’ll take him along to the police station to make a statement, then home.”

“Am I…am I fired?” Benjy didn’t face them and the words were muffled.

“No you’re not fired. You owned up as soon as I asked you if you knew anything.” Carey patted Benjy’s bare back. “I’ll expect you back at work tomorrow with a smile on that pretty face. Okay?”

“‘Kay. Thank you, Mr. Hoffmann. I’m really sorry, Marty, everyone.” Benjy wrapped his arms around Goran’s body and did a fine impression of a limpet.

Goran nodded and carried Benjy away.

“So, Goran’s finally found his sub?” Becket asked, not directing the question to anyone in particular.

“It seems so.” Carey smiled. “I’ll buy in a stock of tissues because half the house subs will be devastated he’s off the market. I don’t think there’s much more we can accomplish tonight, we just have to hope that the police find Jonah before he does any more damage. So dinner is on the house if you’d all care to join me?”

Marty’s stomach growled.

“Sounds like perfect timing,” Beau said.

Heath got to his feet, tugging Aiden up by his collar.

“If someone could order us the house special, I believe I have time to warm Aiden’s ass before we eat.”

Aiden gave him a belligerent scowl but followed willingly enough.

“That’s not a bad idea,” Beau murmured.

“What? No! It’s a very,
very
bad idea,” Marty protested. “It’s a proven fact that spankings cause indigestion.”

“Really?” Beau’s expression told Marty that he was digging himself deeper.

“Well, no, but…but… I got nothing.” Marty sighed heavily, resigning himself to the inevitable. To his disgust, his cock hardened. “Unbelievable. My body has no logic whatsoever.”

“My hand on your ass does not require analysis, Marty. However, we’ll save it for dessert. It is a very sweet experience, after all.”

Marty rolled his eyes. “I’m beginning to understand Aiden’s attitude.” He still let Beau tow him toward the restaurant.

Chapter Eleven

As Beau slipped his key into his front door lock, his innate sense of danger sent a cold shiver down his spine. He scanned the landing, half expecting an intruder to emerge from the stairwell.

“What’s up?” Marty stepped closer to him.

“Not sure…just an itch.” Beau shook his head. “It’s nothing, I’m feeling a bit paranoid.” He summoned up a reassuring smile and opened the door. “Ignore me.”

“I’d rather you trusted your gut, it seems pretty reliable.” Marty patted Beau’s rock-solid abs.

Beau growled and picked Marty up, getting a firm hold of his ass cheeks. He carried him into the apartment and kicked the door shut behind them. Marty wrapped his legs around Beau and held on tight. He tilted his head back, waiting for a kiss.

“Demanding brat,” Beau muttered. “Time to remind you who’s the boss in this relationship.”

“You did that earlier.” Marty wiggled. “My ass is on fire.”

“Good, I’ll be able to feel the heat while I’m fucking you.” Beau pushed Marty back against the wall and kissed him thoroughly. A slight noise from behind had him whirling around instantly.

“You two make me sick.” A man stepped from the lounge doorway in front of them. He held a stubby black gun in both hands, his arms stiff and straight.

“Beau!” Marty gasped as Beau put him down carefully and moved to stand in front of him, protecting Marty with his body.

“Surprise.” The intruder waggled the gun barrel. “Don’t even think about making a move, Beauman. I’m a good shot and there’s not much you can do with shattered kneecaps…except scream.”

“Who the fuck are you?” Beau said, keeping his voice low and calm. He knew it had to be Jonah Smith but he wanted to hear it from the man’s mouth. He seemed vaguely familiar, but Beau couldn’t recall ever meeting him at the club or seeing him anywhere else. He had the kind of face that would blend into a crowd, not unpleasant, just…ordinary. Everything about him was average, his build, his clothing. His hands, holding the gun, were scarred, his nails lined with black.

“You’re blind to anyone but that sniveling geek behind you, aren’t you? I tried to get him out of the picture, tried to make you see me dance. I made beautiful flames just for you and you still didn’t see me.” The stranger’s voice grew steadily more strident, the tone rising until he finished with a screech.

He’s a fucking psycho.
And that makes him dangerous.
Beau searched surreptitiously for a potential weapon. “You have my attention now, so why don’t you tell me your name?”

“Jonah. Jonah Salter.” He grinned. “We even share a name… You see, we were meant to be together.” He sounded gleeful.

“That’s not your real name, though, is it Jonah?” Beau pushed.

Jonah twitched and the gun jerked.

“I know exactly who you are and so do a lot of other people, including the police. You’re Jonah Smith. You were the one who set the fire at The Underground when Alistair was being held at that clinic. You were paid to let Eastman’s goons into The Underground—it was your fault Alistair was taken in the first place. You evil son of a bitch. If that fire had taken hold, people could have been killed.” Beau paused and drew Marty close to his side. “But you don’t care about that do you? Just like you didn’t care when you set all the other fires.”

“You should have seen me at the club… I wouldn’t have had to go to so much effort to get your attention. You’re to blame for every fire I’ve set.”

“Liar!” Marty blurted out. “People have been hurt and the only one to blame is you. Beau’s completely innocent so don’t try to transfer your guilt to him. You’re sick and you’re not going to get out of this. You’re going to spend a very long time in prison.”

“Oh, I think I will get away with it. But if I don’t, Beau will always be mine and no one else’s.”

“Use that gun and a dozen policemen will be in here before I drop,” Beau snapped. “All my neighbors are cops and firemen. That’s not how you want this to end, is it? Give up now and you’ll get the help that you need.”

“I don’t need anyone’s fucking help.” Jonah took a pace forward. “I have one last fire to set and while my baby dances, you and I will escape to our new life while he”—Jonah spat on the ground at Marty’s feet—“goes up in flames.”

“Why don’t we just leave together? Marty’s no threat…leave him out of this. It’s me you want.” Beau tried to buy some time. If he could convince Jonah that he was willing to go with him he might leave Marty alone.

“Fire purifies. He will be cleansed from your life and there will be nothing left to disrupt our future. Ashes to ashes. Take comfort in his return to the earth.”

Horror struck Beau along with the realization that there would be no reasoning with this madman. Jonah meant to burn Marty to death. “We have no future if you get caught here. Isn’t that more important? Stop wasting time. We need to get away.”

“Maybe. But I’m smoke. I’ve disappeared after every fire so far, I can do it again.”

Beau’s ploy to be cooperative, to offer himself up, was not going to work. He decided to change tack.

“Fuck you, Jonah. You’re going to burn in hell and I’m not leaving Marty. I love him. The only way you’ll separate us is if you promise to leave him alone.”

Jonah took another step forward, and Beau took a corresponding step back, pulling Marty with him.

“So fucking predictable. That hero complex you have is appealing but there are plenty more firemen in the station, as it were.” Jonah shrugged. “Shame. We could have been so good together. Set the world alight.” He giggled hysterically. “So what to do? I got everything set up for
him.
” He waved the gun at Marty. “If you’ve been so taken in by him then you deserve to share the same fate.”

Jonah edged around the room. Beau and Marty swiveled, following his path. He pointed the gun at the bedroom door and gestured. “In there. Both of you.”

The stench of petrol assaulted Beau’s nostrils as soon as they entered the room.
The entire place must be saturated in fuel.
Beau saw that the upper pane of the window was broken, creating a chimney to ensure the fire could grow. Jonah had done his research. Once the fire got going it would be impossible to put it out without extinguishers. The nearest one was in the hall. It might as well have been a mile away.

Thinking about extinguishers took Beau’s attention away from Jonah for less than five seconds, but it was long enough for Jonah to grab Marty by the hair and shove him to his knees with the gun pressed to the base of his skull.

“One wrong move and I put a bullet in geek-boy’s brain.”

Beau froze. Marty blinked up at him with… Wait, Beau expected Marty to be terrified but his eyes sparked as if the fire had already been lit.
Oh, my boy is pissed off!
Beau suppressed a grin. Sometimes he forgot what Marty did for a living and the people he was around every day. Of course he would be good in a crisis. He might not be a field agent but he came from a world where danger was a fact of life.

“Get on the bed,
Salter
. On your knees. Hands behind your head.”

He’s not stupid, he knows it will be difficult for me to get up quickly from that position.
Beau didn’t move straight away.

“Why me, Jonah?” Beau asked, hoping to distract Jonah and stop him from hurting Marty. “It wasn’t me that put out your fire at The Underground, it was Charlie. I just checked that things were safe afterward.”

“You were mine long before then. You saved me.”

Beau wracked his brains but came up blank. “When? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Three Acre shopping center. Ring any bells?”

“You have to be kidding me? That wasn’t a fire, it was a false alarm caused by some idiot smoking in the toilets. We showed up, checked it out and were gone again in less than half an hour.” Beau began to realize just how deluded Jonah was. “We didn’t rescue anyone that day. The center was evacuated before we arrived.”

“Get on the fucking bed!” Jonah screamed. He kicked Marty in the hip. “He’ll get another bruise for every second you stand there.”

Beau clenched a fist. Marty didn’t make a sound, but Beau could see the pain reflected in his eyes. He clambered onto the bed.