Page 59 of Summer Ever After

Then he pulled something dark from his jacket pocket, a mask. Slowly, deliberately, he tugged it over his face.

Aaron’s hand curled into a fist on his thigh.

The masked figure turned, took the stairs two at a time, and easily unlocked her apartment door as if he had a set of keys.

The video fast-forwarded, the timestamp rolling nearly ten minutes ahead before the camera caught motion again.

The same figure came barreling back down the stairs, faster this time, clumsy almost. His foot caught on the bottom step and he stumbled forward.

The camera caught him perfectly, mask slipping slightly as he went sprawling onto his hands and knees. For a frozen second, the side of his face was clear in the flickering light.

Ian.

Aaron’s chest clenched, a fierce mix of triumph and rage.

On screen, Ian scrambled upright, yanked the mask back into place, and bolted towards the door. The frame shuddered as he shoved it open and disappeared into the night.

The anchor’s voice returned, calm and measured. “Authorities urge anyone with additional information to come forward. While officials have not publicly identified the individual in the video, they have confirmed the fire is now being treated as arson.”

Aaron muted the TV, his pulse thundering in his ears.

Why in the hell hadn’t they arrested Ian yet? They had to know it was him. Anyone with eyes and a brain would know. Hell, the fact that both he and Brett had mentioned seeing him at the scene and that Beth had mentioned his name when she’d woken up should have been reason enough for questioning.

Add all the restraining orders and court dates Beth had had over the years to keep the man away from her, and you’ve got enough to lock the man up for a few nights at least.

He sat back slowly, dragging a hand over his mouth. Finally, finally, the bastard had slipped up. There was proof. Not just rumors, not just suspicions. Real, tangible evidence that Ian had been there, right as the fire had started.

Nutmeg whined, sensing his tension, and nudged his arm. He absently scratched her ears, his mind already racing.

Beth.

She needed to know. But he also knew what seeing that footage might do to her. The nightmare she’d had last night was proof enough of how deep Ian’s grip still reached. Still, he’d promised her that he wouldn’t keep her in the dark. No secrets.

He exhaled sharply, steadying himself. This changed everything.

And one way or another, Ian was going to go down.

He was still sitting there, jaw tight, the echo of Ian’s face burned into his vision, when the sound of soft footsteps hit the stairs. He turned just as Beth appeared at the bottom, pale and stricken, her hand gripping the railing like she needed it to hold her up.

One look at her and he knew.

“Zoey called,” she said, her voice thin, like it barely held together. “She told me there is footage of Ian sneaking into my apartment. I, I had to see it for myself.” Her eyes darted to the muted TV screen, then back to him. “She said it was on the news.”

“Yeah, I just saw it,” he said quickly, rising to his feet to walk over to her. He didn’t want her thinking he’d hidden it from her, not even for a second. “I was about to come tell you.”

She nodded once, but her shoulders were trembling. “Can you… show me?”

He helped her over to the sofa, then sat next to her and hesitated only long enough to brace himself. Then he unmuted the TV, grabbed the remote, and rewound the segment on his cable provider.

They sat side by side, his arm hovering near her back, close enough to steady her if she faltered. The footage rolled again, the bookstore stairwell, the dark figure, the mask sliding into place, the way he moved like he owned the place.

Beth’s breath hitched when Ian easily unlocked her door. He hit pause.

“How did he get a key?” she whispered.

“That’s a damned good question.”

“I only had one. Even my landlord…” She paled further. “Linda, she owned the bookstore downstairs. You don’t think she’d give him a copy, do you?”