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She doesn’t stop. I hurry after her, reaching her the moment shestops, looking up at the building. The front of the diner looks good; the door is propped open, revealing a long row of booths, and the neon sign over it, while unlit, is intact. But above it, there are two smashed in windows, and scorch-marks on the whitewashed brick. I reach out, tangling my hand in hers, and follow her into the diner.
She walks us around the counter. I catch sight of framed photographs on the walls, red stools, shiplap made into a feature over the booths. She pushes open a little door behind the counter. It leads to a cramped set of stairs. The air still smells acrid, not yet cleared from the smoke. I suppress a cough, my eyes watering.
Kyle reaches us. “Bex,” he says. “You need to have someone come in and inspect the damage done to the building. Don’t go upstairs, it’s not safe.”
“He’s right,” I tell her, even though I’m reluctant to side with Kyle on anything. I don’t want her breathing in this shitty air or trying to see the apartment and getting hurt.
She steps forward anyway, touching the scorched banister. My hand twitches in hers. If I need to haul her out of the building to keep her from hurting herself, I will, but I’d much rather it not come to that.
“How bad is it?” she asks.
Kyle hesitates. “Maybe you should talk to the police about it. Chief Alton is here talking to your mom.”
Her eyes flash as she looks over her shoulder. “How. Bad?”
He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Like I said, it’s mostly smoke damage. Insurance can help you replace any belongings you lost. It’s good you have most of your stuff at your school, right?”
Her expression shutters. “Not everything.”
She shoves past me and Kyle, pressing her sleeve against her nose. As I watch, she makes a beeline for the police car parked next to the firetrucks. An older white man in uniform standstalking to a woman wearing leggings and a ragged old sweatshirt. A cigarette dangles from her long, thin fingers. She has the same hair as Bex, that strawberry blonde, and the heart-shaped face. She must be Bex’s mother, Abby.
“This is a mess,” Cooper says quietly. “You’re creating expectations, man.”
Bex approaches Abby, who turns to her and pulls her into a tight hug. Who the hell lights a cigarette five feet away from an actual fire? I don’t like the guilt in her expression, the way she’s looking at Bex like she’s sorry. Something doesn’t feel right here.
What did she lose in the fire?
“She needs support,” I say.
“Sure,” Seb says. “But you just introduced yourself as her boyfriend.”
“And you look like you’re about to commit murder for her,” says Coop. “I know she’s cool, but—”
I turn on him. “Watch your mouth.”
“James, come on. She’s going to think this means something.”
My heart thuds. “And maybe it does. It’s not your fucking business.”
I walk away before I do something I’ll regret, like decking my brother. I love Cooper, but he doesn’t understand. Something shifted the moment I saw her take that phone call. I can’t examine it right now, but I can’t push it away, either.
“Itwasyour fault!” Bex is saying as I approach.
My jaw tightens. I’d figured as much, once I saw her mother, but I’d hoped that maybe Bex found out differently.
“I’m going to give you a moment alone,” Chief Alton says. When we cross paths, he gives me a heavy look. “You’re with Beckett?”
I nod. “Yes, sir.”
“Damn mess,” he says, shaking his head. “At least the diner’s in good shape.”
“Honey,” Abby says, “it was just a little fire.”
Bex crosses her arms over her chest tightly. I wind my arm around her waist, bracing myself for her to move away, but instead she leans into my grip. It’s subtle, but enough to loosen the knot in my chest somewhat.
“Little?” she says. “Kyle just told me you need to go live somewhere else while they fix the damage. Everything’s gone, even... That’s not little, Mom. You’re lucky you’re not dead.”
Abby takes a drag from her cigarette. “Who’s the hunk? You cheating on Darryl now?”
