35. Blaze
35
Blaze
The tension in Savannah’s frame is palpable as she paces the small cottage living room. The sun slants through the windows, painting her with flickering light, but the effect does little to soften the tight lines of her shoulders. She pauses mid-step, her hands gripping the back of a chair like it’s the only thing holding her upright.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” she says, her voice breaking the stillness. She doesn’t meet my eyes, and that single hesitation sends a jolt through me.
“Go on.” I keep my voice calm, careful, even as my instincts scream to close the space between us.
She exhales sharply. “A man’s been stalking me.”
My jaw clenches so hard I can hear my teeth grind. The protective instinct I've been keeping under control since I met her roars to life, making my muscles coil with tension. My hands grip the armrest of the couch until my knuckles turn white, but I keep my face steady. “Who?”
“A former client.” Her fingers twist together. “I fired him a while ago, but he’s been sending these… these texts. At first, they seemed harmless, but now—” She swallows hard, her voice dropping. “He’s dangerous, Blaze. That motorcycle incident wasn’t an accident.”
I stare at her, the weight of her words sinking in like a lead anchor. “Are you telling me someone’s trying to kill you?” The thought of someone deliberately trying to hurt her makes my vision go red around the edges.
“No,” she says quickly, her voice cracking. “It was just a warning. More than a warning. A message that he’s watching me.”
“Are you sure about that?” My jaw tightens. “Pretty psycho way to make his presence known.”
She nods, wrapping her arms around herself like she’s trying to ward off the chill of his shadow. “I’m not a psychologist, but I wouldn’t doubt he’s a psychopath.”
My chest tightens, dread creeping in. “Why do you say that?”
Her gaze flickers to mine, then away. “Because he’s hurt people. Abused women in the past. And he shows no remorse.”
A heavy silence hangs between us. I struggle to keep my voice calm, steady. “The more reason to believe he could physically hurt you.”
“I don’t think so.” Her words are hesitant, as if trying to convince herself. “I mean, if he’d wanted to do something, he would’ve already.”
“Does he know you’re here?”
“I don’t think so. But I can’t be sure.” Her voice trembles on the last word, and it’s enough to shatter the restraint I’ve been holding.
I close the distance between us and take her hands, gently uncurling her clenched fingers. They’re cold, trembling, but she doesn’t pull away. “Savannah, listen to me. I’m not going to let anything happen to you. Not now. Not ever.”
She looks up at me, something in her gaze softening, even as the fear lingers. “You can’t promise that.”
“Maybe not. But I can promise you won’t face him alone.”
Her breath hitches, and for a moment, it feels like she might argue. But instead, she nods, her fingers tightening around mine. “We need to be careful.”
“Careful doesn’t mean doing nothing.” I shake my head, my grip on the chair beside me tightening until my knuckles ache. “This needs to be dealt with immediately. We’re not waiting for him to escalate. You’re not dealing with this alone.”
Her eyes widen, panic flashing across her face. “Blaze, I don’t want you to do anything that would put you in danger.”
My teeth clench. The thought of some deranged man hovering over her life makes my blood boil. “I’ll go talk to him,” I say, my tone low and dangerous. And by talk, I mean something entirely different.
She steps closer, her hands pressing against my chest. “No. Please, Blaze. He’s not someone you confront like that. Trust me, it’ll only make things worse.”
I cover her hands with mine, feeling the tremble in her fingers. “I’m not going to sit here and let this guy terrorize you.”
Her voice softens, the fear in it cutting deeper than any argument. "There might be a better way. I know there must be." She meets my gaze, those dark eyes pleading with me to listen. Her fingers twist nervously in her lap, and despite her fear, I can see that brilliant mind of hers working. "One that doesn't put anyone at risk. I've dealt with people like him before. Sometimes direct confrontation only makes things worse."
I force myself to take a breath, my body coiled with tension. “Fine. But we’re handling this. Together. And we’re not waiting for him to make the next move.”
She exhales, relief flickering in her eyes. “Okay. Together.”
I pull her close, her weight grounding me as I press a kiss to her temple. “You’re not alone in this anymore, Savannah. That guy? He’s made the biggest mistake of his life.”
Her eyes shine with a mix of gratitude and determination. For the first time since she walked into the room, her shoulders ease. I draw her into my arms, holding her as her tension melts away, replaced by something far more powerful.
Hope.
"The family needs to know." I take her trembling hands in mine, feeling how cold they are despite the warmth of the room.
"I don't want to involve more people than needed, they already have enough on their plates."
"But they need to know because everyone should be alert, watching for anything suspicious. We're stronger together—always have been."
"You're right." She exhales, her dark eyes meeting mine with a mix of fear and relief. "How do we tell them?"
I pull out my phone, typing quickly with practiced efficiency.
Ice 911, 2 PM, my place.
The message goes out to our family group chat, a system we've had in place for years.
A small laugh escapes her, the sound lightening some of the tension in my chest. "Family emergency code?"
"Emma came up with it." I wrap my arms around her, drawing her closer until I can feel her heartbeat against my chest. "She was obsessed with cop shows last summer. Binged every crime drama she could find."
"What if they're busy?" Her voice is muffled against my shirt.
"Trust me, no one ignores an Ice 911." I feel her relax against me, some of the rigidity leaving her shoulders. "The whole cavalry will be here. That's what Dad taught us family means—we drop everything when one of us needs help."
My phone buzzes with incoming responses, lighting up with a cascade of messages.
"Already? That was fast."
"Told you." I press a kiss to her temple, breathing in the subtle scent of her shampoo. "You're not alone in this anymore. And whoever's causing trouble is about to learn what happens when they mess with someone under Ice protection."
***
1:55 PM. Savannah paces the living room like a caged tiger, her phone in hand as she checks the clock for what feels like the tenth time in as many minutes. Her movements are restless, tension radiating off her in waves.
“Hey.” I catch her wrist mid-stride and pull her toward me, my grip firm but gentle. She doesn’t resist, leaning into me as her fingers clutch my shirt. Her body trembles slightly, and I lower my voice to steady her. “Relax. They’ll be here. The Ice family’s got plenty of experience handling difficult situations.”
She exhales, but the worry in her eyes doesn’t ease. The doorbell rings, and she straightens, smoothing her hands over her jeans. Relief flickers across her face as she hurries to open the door, stepping aside as the family files in.
Boots thud softly against the floor as voices overlap in warm, concerned greetings. Emma comes in first, Pokey trotting faithfully at her side, his nails clicking against the wood. Jake follows, holding baby Violet in one arm while balancing her stuffed bunny in the other, the little girl chewing contentedly on its corner. The others trail in behind, their movements purposeful but tinged with concern.
Once inside, everyone finds their place. Aubrey and Emma settle on the couch, with Jake easing down between them, Violet happily playing on his lap. Sean and Blake remain standing near the fireplace, their stances alert and ready. Dad takes the oversized armchair near the window, his steady gaze sweeping the room. Annie moves to the smaller chair beside him, her calm presence grounding the tension in the room.
I clear my throat, keeping one protective arm around Savannah. “Thanks for coming, everyone.”
The room falls silent, every eye on me.
“We’ve got a situation,” I begin, feeling Savannah stiffen at my side. “Some asshole’s been stalking and threatening Savannah. A violent son of a bitch.”
A ripple of reaction sweeps through the room—anger, protectiveness, and determination flashing across their faces. Dad’s jaw tightens, his voice low and firm. “No one messes with this family. We’ll shut him down.”
“Who is it?” Blake asks.
Savannah straightens, her voice calm but firm. “A client I fired. His name is Brody Langston.”
Sean’s eyes widen as he runs a hand through his hair. “Brody Fucking Langston? Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck. I met him in town a few days ago. He approached me, warmed me up, and I even invited him as a guest on my podcast.”
“So he’s here,” Savannah says, gripping my arm tighter.
Emma, idly scratching Pokey behind the ears, nods. “He’s using Sean to get close to her.”
Sean’s shoulders stiffen as he pushes off the wall. “No one uses me as a pawn. I’ll tell him to back the hell off—”
“Wait.” Blake raises a hand, his voice firm but measured. “If he’s strategic enough to manipulate Sean, we’ve got to be smarter than him. We need to play this chess game on our terms, not his.”
The room buzzes with murmured agreement, but it’s Emma who cuts through the noise. “I’ll dig into his social media and email activity. If there’s anything incriminating, I’ll find it.”
I glance at Emma, my chest swelling with gratitude. “Thanks, baby sis.” I shift my focus to the room, my tone firm. “For starters, Savannah needs a protective order.”
“That’ll take time, won’t it?” Aubrey asks.
“No,” Dad replies. “The court can issue a temporary restraining order immediately. It’ll prohibit him from coming near her, even before he’s served.”
“But won’t that tip him off?” Aubrey counters. “Do we really want him knowing Savannah’s taking action?”
Emma smirks, her confidence unmistakable. “Maybe I can delay the notification. If Brody doesn’t know about it, he can’t retaliate before we’re ready.”
Savannah looks at her, wide-eyed. “Can you really do that?”
Emma grins and winks at me. “It’s not like I’m hacking the Pentagon.”
Savannah smiles at Emma briefly. “But is it legal?” she presses.
Emma turns to Dad, looking at him for approval. His expression doesn’t waver. “He’s not exactly following the law,” he says, nodding to Emma.
Jake speaks up. “I’ll take Savannah to the courthouse. I know someone there who can expedite the process. Blaze, you need to follow doctor’s orders and rest.”
“All ranch hands should report anything suspicious immediately,” I add.
“They’re already on alert after the Davidson incident,” Dad says. “But I’ll reinforce the message.”
“I’ll print photos of Brody for the ranch crew,” Emma offers.
“You do that,” Dad says, his pride evident.
“I think Savannah should take a more prominent role in the festival’s promotional efforts,” Aubrey says thoughtfully. “For instance, hosting the charity gala instead of me. The community seeing her with Blaze as his fiancé will show she has support. It’ll also help build goodwill and reinforce that she’s a professional, capable, credible woman who’s at the center of everything the festival stands for.”
“Excellent idea,” I say.
Annie gets up and heads to the kitchen, returning moments later with a tray laden with plates and her signature dessert. “I’ll keep you all fed and strong—starting with peach cobbler.”
Dad’s stern expression softens, humor creeping into his tone. “Your cobbler could solve world peace, Annie.”
She smirks as she slides a plate toward him, her eyes lingering on his face for a beat longer than necessary. The rest of the family exchanges knowing glances, though Dad, as usual, seems oblivious.
“Shopping might work better than world peace,” she adds, turning to Savannah. “I’ll take you out for some retail therapy. You deserve a breather.”
The family’s laughter is warm and genuine, cutting through the tension like a balm. Savannah looks at me hesitantly, and I nod. “Go, babe. We’ve got this.”
I glance at Annie and add, “Go all out, girls. On me.”
Emma grins from the couch, scratching behind Pokey’s ears. “In that case, may I come too?”
The room bursts into laughter, the sound light and full of affection, as Emma’s playful tone eases the mood even further.
Plates clink and conversation turns lighter. I wait for the right moment, and when the family starts to disperse, I catch Sean and Blake’s eyes. “You two: stay. I’ve got an idea.”