Chapter 21
The Bad Guy
Milly
The rope bit into my wrists every time I shifted.
Harold had tied me to the far support post just tight enough to draw blood, but not enough that I couldn’t reach the knots.
My shoulders ached, my hands were tingly, and every time I moved, the stool creaked.
Every time it squeaked, Harold glanced my way. The little tattletale, I thought.
Harold stood in the middle of the barn, his lantern trembling in his grip as he placed it on what looked to be an old table or bench. The light shone across his face, showing the shadows beneath his eyes. “You’re quieter than I expected,” he said.
I dug into the recesses of my mind, recalling the self-defense classes Nancy made us take when a string of robberies made their way across Denver. I forced myself to breathe slowly. Just keep him talking. Every second buys time.
“What do you want, Harold?” My voice shook a little, but Harold either didn’t care or didn’t notice.
“I want what I’m owed.” His voice was cold, but the laugh that followed cracked like a whip.
“The ranch?”
“Not just this ranch, you silly girl. Not even the house. I want everything. The legacy. The name.” He turned to face me. “You don’t have a clue, do you?” He sneered. “I bet you don’t even know what you inherited?”
I tried to play dumb. I didn’t want him to know I knew about the extra deeds and investments. “The ranch?” I asked again.
“Not just the land. The whole darn story. Every sordid little tale.”
Harold began to pace, his boots muffled against the floorboards by scattered old hay.
“Your mother, your aunt, and I started something once. A little business at first, but it was ours. For a moment, it did well. The three of us grew quite a reputation. Our names were part of general conversation.” Beneath the raggedness, a wistful expression crossed his hardened features.
“The business started to fail a few years later. The money started running low, and Penny and your mother kept it alive. I found new vendors, moved the money around. I may have blurred a few lines, but that’s business. ”
I tugged on the ropes, and the stool beneath me creaked. Harold narrowed his eyes at me.
“They turned on me,” he shouted with indignation, kicking an old bucket across the barn.
“Said I was stealing. When they found out about the accounts, they pulled their additional stock, changed the deeds, and invested on their own. They didn’t care about the business anymore.
They only wanted to bury their failure.”
Knowing him, the new vendors were probably just as shady as he was, and the accounts were dodgy.
The lantern wobbled as he paced, his hands fiddling with a lighter.
My heart beat faster as I watched him flick the flame on and off again.
“They called it protecting the family name, protecting their interests. I called it betrayal. They made me a silent partner in my own company. I saw what was happening. They were teaming up and working against me. So I did what I had to do. I split them apart.”
It was all making sense now. I always thought it was odd that Mom and Penny fought after being not just sisters, but best friends since they were kids.
Mom always said she and Penny were attached at the hip growing up, pretending they were twins, but when the fight broke them apart, Mom was devastated.
I think it broke her, too. She was always a little sad after that.
“I whispered in Evelyn’s ear,” Harold continued, “until she thought Penny was chasing her husband. Told Penny your father worked for me. They both believed it. That was my mistake.”
He paused, smiling faintly. “Evelyn sold her shares to Penny to get away. Penny bought everything. Every deed, every account. And where did that leave me?” He bit the words out, pointing an accusing finger at me like I’d been the one to wrong him.
“I was left with nothing. Just a few measly shares and a name worth less than the paper on the letterhead.”
My pulse thundered in my ears, but I stayed still. Keep him talking, Milly. Isn’t that what the instructors kept telling us?
“Of course, Penny and Evelyn hired a CEO and a CFO I couldn’t bribe or control before Evelyn sold out.
Then, when Penny found out I was planning to buy her out, she went to Browne, that retired old Jag hound, and locked me out.
Changed the deeds, moved the assets.” He shook his head.
“Then she died, and I thought I’d finally won.
I mean, who would she leave it all to with Evelyn dead and me the only living relative?
Then her will dropped. I was left with half her portfolio, and she handed the rest to you.
The other half of her portfolio. Like you’ve ever earned any of it.
She even gave you the things your mother sold her. It was supposed to be mine.”
Harold slammed the post next to my head with his palm, making me jump. He glared at me, and hatred lit his eyes.
The lantern’s light flickered across the veins in his neck. He rolled the lighter between his fingers like a coin. “She knew exactly how to humiliate me. Leave it all to a girl who didn’t even know it existed.”
He thumbed the wheel, another spark flaring to life. “Maybe she was right. Maybe none of us deserve it.” The flame danced, small and blue, and for a second, his eyes softened, almost peaceful.
Then an owl screeched above the rafters.
Harold flinched, looking up in fear. The lighter slipped from his hand.
The tiny dancing flame flickered on the way down, and for a moment, we both went silent, watching it fall right into a pile of old hay.
The flame caught instantly. Fire crawled over the straw.
He froze, staring as the orange light spread.
Starting as a flicker, Harold tried to stomp it out, but that flicker quickly grew into a flame.
“Harold,” I yelled. “Help me.” Fear clutched my chest, and panic engulfed me. The ropes around my wrists felt tighter as I pulled against them. Trying to untie them was impossible, and my hands were shaking so badly I couldn’t hold the rope ends.
“No… no, I didn’t…”
“Untie me, Harold!” I shouted, coughing. The flicker was now a blazing fire, sprawling across the ground and crawling up the walls. Smoke burned my lungs and my eyes.
Harold backed away, panic breaking through his fury. “I didn’t mean to!” Then he turned and bolted, disappearing into the smoke.
I fought the ropes, wrists burning. The air grew thick, choking. Flames leapt up the walls, licking the rafters. Each breath scraped raw down my throat. Where are you, Austin?
The door exploded open. A shadow barreled through the smoke, a dark silhouette against the fire. In one motion, it drove Harold’s retreating shadow to the floor, then ran straight for me. Austin.
I let out a fit of coughing as Austin cut the ropes at my wrists.
“Are you okay? Can you walk?”
I nodded, too dizzy to answer, then stumbled.
Austin scooped me up, pressing my face into his shoulder.
Relief washed over me as we cleared the doorway, and a loud crack came from behind us.
The swirling heat still burned my skin as the fire roared into an inferno.
The night sky was bright with orange smoke and flame.
The night air hit like ice. I gasped, coughing, eyes streaming.
Austin had come for me. My heart yelled loud enough for my mind to hear. I knew Austin loved me, but enough to run through fire for me? That was love.
“Palmer!” Austin shouted. “Harold’s still in there!”
The sheriff sprinted past with two deputies. Austin set me down, then turned back toward the blaze.
“Austin, no, don’t!” I tried, but he was already gone. He’d rescued me and then run back into the fire for Harold. The barn snapped and popped as the flames engulfed it. Years of neglect had created the perfect recipe for a tiny flame to erupt into destruction.
The seconds dragged. No Austin. A lifetime flashed before me as I waited for him to come back out.
A deputy came out coughing and collapsed onto all fours.
Beams cracked and splintered, shooting sparks that rained down.
The barn started to roar. And in an instant, the world shrank to firelight and the sound of my own heartbeat as the barn collapsed, the roof giving way in a thunderclap of wood and flame.
The silence after the collapse was unbearable.
I couldn’t breathe. I waited for him to come running out, but nothing. He’s gone. He’s really gone.
Tears prickled at the corners of my eyes as I knelt on the grass just a few yards away.
Flashes of red and blue lit the barn in strobing color. The lights fought for attention against the flames. An ambulance. Kyle, the town paramedic, ran toward me.
“Austin and Palmer are still in there,” I rasped.
“A fire truck is on its way. We saw the flames from the road. They aren’t too far behind,” Kyle said as he took my pulse and draped me in a blanket, even though the fire was keeping me warm on its own.
Then, through the burning smoke and haze, a shadow moved. “Austin,” I whispered as he stumbled out, coughing, soot-black, Harold slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Palmer followed behind him, half-bent, waving off falling embers.
Austin dropped to his knees, placing Harold on the ground. “He’s alive,” he rasped, his voice shredded. A few men ran to Harold, and a few ran to Palmer, who was doubled over.
I stumbled to Austin, despite Kyle calling my name, and threw my arms around him. I didn’t care that we were both shaking. I only cared that he was back in my arms. “You went back,” I whispered.
“Couldn’t leave him,” he managed, a ghost of a smile behind the soot. “Couldn’t leave you either.”
Sirens cut through the dark. Fire trucks roared up the lane. Neighbors poured in. Mason and Levi grabbed hoses, Sue was in her pajamas, Cassie appeared barefoot with blankets. Everwood had come running.
By the time the last flames sank to steam, Palmer’s deputies were hauling Harold, handcuffed, soot-streaked, and silent, toward a waiting ambulance. The sheriff’s radio crackled. “We got another one,” someone said.
Palmer frowned, listening, then turned toward the road. “Looks like Harold’s ride didn’t make it far.”
Down at the gate, red and blue lights strobed against the trees. A deputy radioed in. “Looks like Arnie and Harold thought they were going somewhere. A duffel bag with cash, a phone, spare plates.”
Palmer’s mouth flattened. “The getaway car. Should’ve known.”
Minutes later, Austin’s phone rang. “Adams,” he answered, his mouth tightening.
Fury flashed in his eyes. “Yeah, I kind of figured. Harold tried to kill Milly tonight. Just got the fire out.” There was a loud murmur from the phone, and Austin pulled it slightly away from his ear.
“I know. I’ll handle things on this end.
If you could send me the file and take care of things on your end, we can get them locked up for a long time.
” Austin looked at me and winked. He ended the call, tapped his phone a few times, then growled in anger.
“Here’s what Reaper found. He said if you needed anything, to call him directly, and he’d come out here to help.” Austin handed Palmer his phone. Reaper’s message glowed on the screen, emails, bank transfers, and text logs.
Message: Once Milly’s gone, you’ll get your cut.
Palmer shook his head. “I’ll need you to send me that as soon as you two get some rest.” Then he shook his head again.
“I’ll do that,” Austin said, frowning.
“I’m glad you’re okay, Milly.” Palmer clapped Austin on the shoulder. “She’s a keeper.”
Austin nodded and pulled me closer to his side.
A place I was always meant to be. Right here by his side.
I smiled to myself. Penny knew exactly what she was doing when she put Austin and me in the will.
Forced to live together for a year. She’d planned it all, except for Harold starting the fire.
Austin had been the perfect protector, the perfect roommate, and the perfect man for me.
The ambulances rolled out, taillights bleeding into the horizon. Smoke still drifted through the night as the fire department tended to the last of the embers. Some of the neighbors were still milling about, assessing the damage. And me, in Austin’s arms.
Austin’s hands found my waist, warm and rough. “It’s over, Milly.”
I watched the last spark fade above the blackened frame of the barn. He was right. It really was.