Chapter 98
Chapter 98
Half an hour later, Quinton and Neeema stood in front of twisted metal beams, cracked tiles, and blackened walls. Smoke still clung to the air, thick and heavy.
It was hard to look at. To see the place that had been her dream and fresh start reduced to char and crumbling ruin. Streams of water from the firefighters’ efforts to kill the flames and save the place trickled down the edges of what remained, puddling at their feet.
Neema stood frozen, eyes glassy, cheeks streaked with tears she didn’t even seem aware of. Quinton wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her tight to his side, but she trembled anyway.
Right then, Quinton would have given anything to fix it. Every small, broken sound she made tore into him. He couldn’t look at the rubble for long without feeling like he might destroy something, or someone, with his bare hands. Someone had to pay for this, and he wasn’t thinking of the financial kind.
With the morning now in full swing, people moved around them. There were firefighters, investigators, and a few curious bystanders in the distance who weren’t in a hurry to get to work or shopping. All Quinton could focus on was Neema and the wreckage of everything she’d tried to bring to life.
“This isn’t fair,” she whispered, voice quivering.
Quinton’s throat tightened. He kissed the top of her head, swallowing his anger, knowing she needed his comfort, not his fury right now. “I’m sorry,” he murmured against her temple and just held her.
As though all the strength was sucked out of her, she leaned into him, silent tears falling harder now. Quinton didn’t let go. He rubbed her back slowly, gently, even as rage thrashed in him like a living thing.
From the corner of his eyes, Quinton noticed Kaleb approaching. When he reached them, his voice was low, only for Quinton’s and Neema’s ears.
“Sir, the fire chief says there was definitely an accelerant present,” he said. “This wasn’t electrical. It wasn’t a kitchen issue either. They’re treating it as arson.”
Quinton’s eyes dropped to Neema, concerned about how she’d take that news, but she seemed lost and unaware of the conversation. She stared blankly at the ash-covered floor where her pastry counter used to stand. He felt almost glad she hadn’t heard.
His jaw clenched so tightly he felt it ache. An ugly heat rose in him, dark, violent, and demanding blood.
He turned sharply to Kaleb, voice colder than steel, but still low. “Do they have any leads?”
Kaleb shook his head. “Not yet.”
Quinton’s hands curled into fists. “I think it’s safe to assume it’s Jerome again.”
At the mention of her ex, Neema blinked. Startled, she finally tore her eyes from the destroyed building to Quinton. Her voice cracked. “It might not be..”
“No,” he snarled, his composure cracking. “This has Jerome written all over it. He’s been desperate, cornered, spiraling. Destroying your café? That’s exactly the kind of pathetic stunt he’d pull.”
“But we don’t know for sure. There is still that man.”
“Who is obviously working with Jerome.” His voice shook with fury. “He either did it himself or sent someone. Either way, I swear, Neema, I’ll put an end to him myself.” The venom in his voice was so potent, Quinton wasn’t surprised when Neema’s eyes widened.
“Quinton, no,” she said firmly, clutching him with both hands now. “I don’t want you doing anything stupid..”
“He hurt you while you were together,” Quinton said through clenched teeth. “And now he’s doing it again.”
“We don’t know that,” she pressed. “And even if he was behind this, you can’t go after him. That won’t fix anything.”
He stared at her, chest rising and falling fast, adrenaline boiling under his skin. Quinton wanted to protect her. He wanted to fix things. He wanted to rip apart whoever had dared take something from her.
But Neema held onto him like he was the only thing keeping her upright.
“Please,” she whispered. “Don’t scare me like that. What if something happened to you?” Her voice broke at the end. “Just let the police do their job.
Some of the fire inside him dimmed at the concern in her tone. After a beat, Quinton took a deep breath and exhaled shakily. He then pulled her into his arms again. Neema clung to him, shaking quietly against his shirt.
Quinton rested his chin on her hair, eyes burning with a promise he didn’t speak aloud so as not to upset her again, but the truth was simple. Whoever had done this would pay, one way or another. Quinton would make sure of it.
With his arm firmly around Neema, Quinton guided her away from the disaster, a plan already forming in his head. Jerome was about to find out how ruthless Quinton could be.