Page 28 of Ruin Me

Madison

“That’s the place.” I pointed toward a house that had seen better days.

“You’re sure?” Kent slowed the car to a crawl.

We were in a lower middle-class neighborhood. Modest homes with better upkeep lined the streets. Most of the neighbors took pride in their houses with recent paint or siding and landscaping featuring neat lawns. Nothing I saw warranted Kent’s caution.

“It’s the address Mr. Edelman gave me.”

“Remind me, why are we the ones asking him instead of forwarding his information to the police?” He parked by the curb in front of the address I’d jotted down.

I glared at Kent. My ass was still tender after this morning’s punishment, but that wasn’t why I gave him the sink eye. “If you think I’m going to entrust your future to those inept detectives, you don’t know me. They don’t like you because you’re an entitled asshole?—”

“Come again?”

“Kent, I have deep feelings for you but I’m not blind. You were an asshole to me, your employees have talked about it on the BBD site, and you were almost insufferable to the detectives at the hospital. Now, I’m not saying your behavior isn’t always warranted, but don’t think I don’t see you for who you are, flaws and all.”

Kent stared at me from the corner of his eye. “Are my flaws a deal breaker?”

“For years I wished they were. Wished and begged for my heart to come to terms with the darkness inside you.” I rested my head against the headrest and watched the empty street before us. “But then I’d remember how you were with Ife and Oyinlola, and me before I revealed my feelings for you. If I haven’t been able to rip you out of my heart by now, I don’t think I ever will.”

Kent took my hand and pressed his lips against my palm. “Thank you for not trying to change me, but if I go to that dark place, know it will be to protect you, not hurt you.” He kissed my palm again and closed his eyes.

I brushed his hair behind his ear and cradled his cheek in my free hand, savoring the way his beard tickled my palm. “I?—”

A loud knock on my window scared me into pulling away. I shrieked and held my hand against my rapidly beating heart.

“Are you the woman I spoke to last night?” Fred Edelman, the man I found with a connection to four of the dead women, said with an impatient frown. “I got a call from my cafe manager about an emergency. So I’ll have to cancel on you.”

I rolled down the window and offered Fred an understanding smile. “I understand. Your time is not your own when you run a business as popular as yours.”

“Thanks.” He glanced toward his house, his frown morphing into a contemplative one. “If you want, you can follow me and ask your questions there. At least then I won’t feel bad about wasting your time.”

“Not a problem. We’ll follow you.” Kent reached across me and out my window to shake Fred’s hand. “I’m Kent.”

“Yeah, Fred. See you in a bit,” Fred distractedly said and quickly shook Kent’s hand before hurrying to the waiting car in his open garage.

We followed him for the forty-minute drive to an up-and-coming restaurant district in downtown Douglas. When we arrived at the cafe, Brewfully Yours, Fred sat us at an outdoor table and had his servers wait on us. The service was as good if not better than I’d read about.

“How’d you find this guy? His name never came up as a potential witness in any of the police reports you compiled or from what my people could find.” Kent took a sip of his cappuccino and his body relaxed into his chair.

“That good?”

“Try it.” He handed me his cup.

I licked my lips, less interested in the coffee. I turned the cup until the drop he’d left behind on the rim aligned with my mouth and sipped with my eyes closed. “Mmm.”

“Madison, behave. We’re in public and if you don’t want me explaining to passersby why I have my cock in your mouth, save those sounds for when we’re alone.” Kent growled, his eyes glowed with lust as his vision narrowed on my lips.

I smirked, not afraid of his warning. I’ve had too many nights of wanting to know how he felt in my mouth to be intimidated by a bunch of strangers.

“Sorry, it took so long.” Fred slumped into a chair beside me. “I might have five minutes before they need me again.” He glanced between Kent and me, but returned to Kent time and again. “What questions do you have?”

I pulled a picture of the first murdered woman from her Instagram profile. She was with her friends, dressed in activewear after attending her gym. In the background, Fredstood talking to people at the table beside hers. From my research, I learned Fred made a habit of getting to know his customers.

“Fred, do you know this woman?”

He took the picture and studied it. “Yes, but I thought I saw on the news she died.” He peeked at Kent, his face closing up.

---