Three Little Piggies

Chapter 1

Quinn

The rain pelted down on my umbrella as I staredupat the sign that read Sunshine Café . It had been over a year since I had visited this place. Why would Cameron ask me to come here? He knew the significance this place held in my heart. He knew how soul-shattering it would be for me to stepfootinto this shop. This was the place where I met Luke. The man I had given my entire soul to. My future husband and future father of my children.Three years later, there was no husband,andthere wereno children.All that remained was the crippling ache of loss that shrouded my world in darkness.

Looking down the street, I realized there wasn’t any other placefor usto meet.This entire strip was filled with restaurants or bars thathadn’t openedyet, and Camerondidn’t have acar.A person could only go so far on one of those little pre-paid scooters the city offered. Sucking in a deep breath, I stepped towards the door and pulled it open.

The setting of the little shophadn’t changed.The walls were still painted an obnoxiously bright orange with bright white tables and chairs. The glass counters were filled with fresh muffins and bagels ripe for selling. The pungent scent of freshly brewed coffee floated through the air as theline ofcustomers waited to put in their morning order. No force on earth could get me into that line. I couldn’t stand being face-to-face with anyone who wore the same uniform as Luke had on the first day we met.

Shaking my umbrella, I looked around the large room until I spotted Cameron sitting at one of the tables in the corner. He was sipping an iced coffee and had another one sitting on the opposite side of the table. Luckily, he knew what I liked. Unable to look at the counter any longer, I rushed over to him and plopped into the opposite seat.

Silently, he slid his phone to me. I looked down at the screen to see a news article. Police Officer Brutally Murdered .

“You called me down here for this? Here of all places?”

Cameron set down his coffee and leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other. “This place is the perfect placefor youto read that article.”

Pushing the phone back to him, I crossed my arms and adopted the same relaxed pose. “Sheisn’t the one who murdered Luke.”

He pushed the phone back. “True, but they guttedherlike a pig, and I don’t think they are done. Keep reading.”

Rolling my eyes, I did so. My gaze locked on a specific sentence, and my jaw dropped slightly. Apparently, police had found a note on the body that said, “The first little piggy.”

“It’s been all over the news.Theyeven stuffed an apple in her mouth.”

I took a sip of my iced coffee. Pumpkin spice—the man knew me, so I had to give him that. “What does any of this have to do with me?” It was no secret that I had a severe dislike for most police officers, especially the ones in our city. They were useless most of the time and clearly could get away with murder simply because of the badges they wore.

“You’re the reporter, so report. Dig up some dirt on this cop. Find out why she was targeted. That note says whoever did this is going to do it again.” He shrugged. “At least that’s my take away from it.” Leaning forward, he locked his dark brown eyes on mine. “Luke was my best friend all through high school. When I came out, he was the only one who had my back, even over my family. What happened to him was wrong; he didn’t deserve it. I’m tired of cops thinking they can shoot first and ask questions later. If this cop was dirtyin some way, shape, or form, you need to bring that to light. For him.”

Annoyed, I began tapping my fingers on the table. “Why? This has nothing to do with Luke.”

Pursing his lips, he looked around tomake sureno one was eavesdropping. “True, but what if this killing is because of somethingshedid that was covered up? You know the stationis going totry and twist this to make her look like a saint. What if she isn’t a saint?” Leaning closer, he dropped his voice lower. “What if she deserved it?”

Taking another long sip of my coffee, I stared into his eyes. Visions of that night started running through my mind. Luke and I were just playing a video game. It was nearly midnight when there was a loud pounding on our apartment door. He got up to answer it, the game controller still in his hand, andtheneverything went wrong. After the cop shot him dead, they swore they thought the controller was a gun.There were no questionsasked, no time to think; they just opened fire. Later, I found out my neighbor called them, claiming he heard Luke beating on me.

“I can’t do this,” I murmured, standing.

I could feel my head getting fuzzy, and it was getting harder and harder to catch my breath. Withouta second glance towardsmy friend, I made a dash forthe exit.I practically ran out onto the drenched sidewalk.As the rain poured, I realized Ihad forgottenmy umbrella and coffee.It didn’t matter; I would never step foot in that place again for as long as I lived.

Wrapping my arms around my torso, I tried to control the violent sobs that wanted to escape. I was so tired of crying. I was tired of the night terrors, tired of the flash backs. I wanted nothing more than to carry on with my life, but I couldn’t while that son of a bitch who murdered Luke walked free. He got nothing for what he did, not even so much as a slap on the wrist.

Nearly jumping out of my skin, I squeaked at the sound of an umbrella opening.

I turned to see Cameron holding the umbrella in one hand while offering me my coffee with the other. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I shouldn’t have asked you to go in there.”

Taking the coffee, I offered up a small smile. I didn’t want him to think what he had done was good, but I didn’t want him to feel bad.

Instead, I decided to change the subject. “Do you want me to give you a ride home? Maybe we can talk about this more there.

He smiled warmly, taking a sip of his own coffee. “I’d love a ride. It’s raining cats and dogs out here.”

Smiling softly, I allowed him to hold the umbrella as we walked. It was the logical thing to do since he was so much taller than me. When we started walking, I was forced to jump back as a motorcycle came speeding past.

My jaw dropped. “That guy is crazy!” I grunted, slowly stepping out into the street again. “He doesn’t even have a helmet. And it’s raining. Why would anyone ride a bike when it’s raining?”

My friend stared after the man. “I’m glad he didn’t wear one. Did you get a look at that guy? He’s hot as fuck. I need a bad boy in my life.”

I giggled. I didn’t really get a look at the man as he passed, so I couldn’t tell how good-looking he was. All I saw was one of those biker vests and an assortment of tattoos on his arms and neck. “What about Kevin? Should you really be looking at other men?”

Camer on opened the passenger side door of my Jeep. “He is old news.”

Jamming my keys into the ignition, I gave him a shocked look. “I thought things were going so well.”

He shrugged, fastening his seat belt. “We only went on four dates. Kevin is boring as fuck. The first time I went to his place, we didn’t even fuck. He just wanted me to watch him livestream his video game. I just couldn’t after that. What about you? When are you getting back into the dating world?”

That question caught my breath and twisted my stomach into knots. “I’m not ready,” I declared, pulling out of the parking spot and heading to Camer on’s house.

“It’s been a year, Quinn. Technically, over a year. Luke would want you to move on.”

He was right. Luke died in late August. It was now the first week of October. But it still felt too soon. Luke and I had been together for three years before his death. How could I move on after only a year?

“We could turn around and chase after that biker guy,” he chuckled. “Maybe he plays for both teams, and we could share. It wouldn’t hurt you to get laid.”

I decided I wouldn’t dignify that with a reply, so I turned the radio up.