Chapter Two Blaze
Chapter Two
Blaze
Savannah Carlson still owns me, even after all these years. She’s in my blood, in my bones, in my soul. Nash warned me to stay away a long time ago, but I just couldn’t.
Still can’t.
I lean back against my truck, arms folded over my chest, hat tilted low. The trees surrounding the perimeter of the cemetery give me cover, keeping me out of sight. Part of me wants to go to her, but if Nash saw me, he’d slit my throat.
Chewing on a blade of grass, I stare at Savannah’s dress. It’s black and tight and hugs those curves my hands remember too well. Her dark-blond hair hangs in a low ponytail that reaches halfway down her back, long enough for me to wrap my fist around and tug.
Something she used to love.
Her body is stiff, but every few minutes, her shoulders shake. And her asshole brother doesn’t even acknowledge it. He just stands next to her, staring at the casket, his jaw tight.
Anger swells in my chest. Still blaming me for his fucking failures, no doubt.
Not that he ever made an effort to dig himself out of his hole.
Nash was perfectly happy with me doing all the heavy lifting while he came in to help on a few jobs.
I knew he was strapped for cash, so I pulled him in. It was easy money for him.
I made the hard choices and took all the risk. Nash just rode on my coattails, thinking everything would be handed to him.
Until that night when it all ended.
I lift my hat and sweep a hand through my hair.
The fact is, I still betrayed him. And for that, I don’t deserve his forgiveness.
I grit my teeth and dig the heel of my boot into the ground.
Being here at the funeral is wrong. I didn’t just break Savannah’s heart years ago by ending our affair. I’m a big part of the reason why her parents and her uncle are dead. My actions made Aunt Marg a widow. And after the destruction I helped cause, I walked away without a look back.
I made myself believe it was for everyone’s good, that me sticking around here would only cause more people pain and suffering. Maybe something worse, something deadly.
A deep sigh heaves my chest. Marg was a good woman. Kind, loving. She always saw the good in me too. More than almost anyone else.
Except Savvie. It’s one of the things about her that drew me close and held on tight. She didn’t listen to the stories or gossip nosy townspeople loved to spew about me, and Christ knows, there was enough to taint her view. Most of it was true too.
But she thought I was special. Me. What a fucking joke. To her I was so special that she had been willing to give up her dreams of college, a glitzy career, and a big-city life.
Then I let her down after her parents’ funeral. Hard. Told her we’d made a mistake.
I remember watching the light in her eyes die out when I spoke those words. I shredded her hopes for a future with me when it was all she had left to cling to.
And then I took a hammer to the jagged pieces. Being with her was wrong on so many levels, but on that night? It had deadly consequences, ones that’ll haunt me forever.
Savannah never knew the truth . . . about that night or what led up to it. She didn’t know about her parents’ financial troubles. And she had no idea that I ran smuggling jobs for an organized crime boss named Jack Wilkerson, who wanted to establish a new distribution route for moving his goods.
It was supposed to be a simple transaction at the Carlson ranch—stolen goods in exchange for cash.
Her parents needed money because their ranch had been suffering, so my dad offered them an opportunity to work with us.
They let us use their propane delivery trucks to transport the goods earlier in the day.
But when it came time for the sale, our buyer never showed up.
Instead, a rival gang attacked the place and shot up the propane tanks, which caused the inferno that followed.
Nash couldn’t hold them off on his own. He needed backup, but I was with Savannah, and my dad decided not to show up.
I grit my teeth. My fucking father never shows up, though, so that shouldn’t have been a shock. He’s only ever been good at making the messes, never cleaning them up.
Which is why I’m back in Whiskey Creek after all these years. I tried to stay away after leaving the military. Hunkered down in some town down south as a ranch hand, thinking I’d finally escaped the past until Wilkerson found me.
Just like he always does.
The people gathered for the funeral walk toward the casket. They each drop a single white rose on top, and with some final whispered words to Savannah and Nash, they disperse.
Savannah cries quietly, nodding at those who pass until she’s left alone with Nash. He drops his rose, turns his back on Savannah, and stalks toward his truck.
Fucker.
I want to go to her, to take her in my arms, whisper that she’s not alone.
My mind screams at me to leave, to walk away before I hurt her more than I have. But my body refuses to move. I watch her lean over the casket, murmuring words she never got to say. Minutes later, she walks toward her car, hunched over, her hand over her mouth.
Dirt is shoveled onto the casket, the sound jarring me.
My vision blurs, and instead of Marg’s picture in the distance, I see Liam’s smiling face.
My pulse jackhammers against my throat at the thought of the man who’d quickly become my closest friend when we met on an overseas tour. Best man I knew.
I told him not to follow me, that I’d be fine on my own. But he didn’t listen. If he’d have just fucking—
I scrub a hand down the front of my face and back away, pressing my fingers to my temples. Christ, I’ve taken so much from so many people.
I should have never come back here. I should have stayed far away from anyone else I could hurt.
Without paying any mind to the annoying-as-fuck voices in my head that tell me to go home, I follow Savannah’s car into town. She pulls into a spot on the street outside Brixton’s General Store and walks inside.
I push open the door of my truck and hop out. Walking around the front of my truck, I feel the stares. Hushed whispers make my ears perk up.
“. . . always been trouble . . .”
“. . . heard he didn’t leave the military willingly . . .”
I head to the general store, but not before I slant a dark look at the two women gaping at me on the side of the road.
I pull open the door, the chime jingling as I step inside. My breath hitches when I see Savannah lean over a table filled with purple sachets, ones I know her aunt used to make. She picks one up and holds it to her nose.
I walk over to her and lean against the table, unable to resist her magnetic pull. I’ve thought about her, craved her, fantasized about her for six long years, and now that she’s here, I can’t just walk away. I can’t just forget.
Leaving Savannah was the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make, but Jack Wilkerson left me no choice.
She thinks I left because I didn’t care about her.
The truth is, I only left because I cared so damn much.
“Hello, Savvie.”
And only then does she look up, the murderous glint in her blue eyes sharp enough to pierce my soul.
“What the hell do you want?” She straightens up, hatred lacing every word. “To pay your respects, the way every decent person here in town already did at the funeral you didn’t bother to attend?”
“Didn’t think I was welcome. Still don’t.”
“You’re a coward for hiding. A pathetic excuse for a man.”
“Oh, you think I’m a pathetic coward? Who was it who ran to hide in an easy life and a Denver boardroom?” I shake my head and let out a sharp laugh. “Don’t you think you might be projecting here, Savvie?”
“Don’t call me that,” she hisses.
“I remember you liking it a hell of a lot when you were under me,” I growl, inching toward her. “Remember?”
My blood burns. All of the pent-up guilt and regret bubble to the surface. Looking into her angry gaze, I feel like I’m spiraling all over again, and the only way I can ground myself is to pull someone else into it all.
Her eyes pop open wide, cheeks flushing a deep red. “You arrogant asshole. Only people I care about get to call me Savvie. And I don’t give a damn about you. In fact, I hate you.”
I nod, a lazy smirk lifting my lips to prove that her words don’t grate against my fucking heart.
But I can’t ignore the sweet scent of lavender that clings to her skin and the fact that just being near her again after all these years has my cock twitching and my control waning.
“Hate’s a hell of a lot safer than love. ”
“Stay away from me, Blaze,” she says, her voice shaking. Then she turns on her heel and storms out of the store. The few customers in the place turn curious eyes in my direction, eyes that burn with accusation.
“. . . wonder what kind of trouble he’ll cause now . . .”
This time, I don’t blink an eye at gossip. Let them talk and wonder. They’ll never know the truth. Nobody will.
Outside, squealing tires shatter the air as Savannah’s car peels away out of the parking spot and speeds down the street, like she can’t get away from me fast enough.
A frustrated sigh slips from my lips as I turn toward my truck, but just before I can grab the door handle, a blacked-out Mercedes EX pulls up and blocks me in. The passenger-side window slides down, and Jack Wilkerson’s smug-ass face appears.
“Welcome back, Blaze. Get in the car.”
Rage flares hot in my chest. I want to tell him to go fuck himself, to rot in hell.
“I’d like to make you an offer I know you won’t refuse.” His slimy-as-fuck voice slithers over my skin like a poisonous snake.
Squaring my shoulders, I yank open the door and drop into the seat.
“Been a long time,” Jack says. “How’s everything going? Your family must be happy to have you back home.”
I whip my head toward him. “Save your bullshit. We both know this ain’t a social call. You brought me back here. Why don’t you tell me what you want, Wilkerson?”
Jack pulls over to the curb half a block up from the general store. He puts the car in park, his lips quirking into a nasty smile. “Is that any way to greet your business partner?”
“Screw you. I was never your business partner.”
“True. You weren’t. More like my bitch, if memory serves. But that’s the past, and I have an opportunity for you now that you’re back to work off your father’s new debt.” Jack shakes his head. “He just can’t seem to stop himself from digging you into bigger and bigger holes.”
He pauses and waves a hand in the direction of the general store. “Saw your little reunion with the Carlson girl. Too bad about her aunt. She was a sweet woman. Stupid as hell for not selling Red Rock Ranch when I made her an offer to buy her out.”
“Some things have too much meaning to be sold,” I say, narrowing my eyes.
“That’s what I’ve heard. Hey, how is Savannah doing, by the way?
” He pauses, his lips lifting into a smirk that has my bones chilling.
“You still got a hard-on for her the way you did years ago? You do remember what happens to people you care about when you decide to go off the rails, right, Blaze?”
More fucking threats. My fists tingle with the urge to punch a hole through his throat. “Do not go anywhere near her.”
“Don’t give me a reason to.” Jack steeples his fingers. “It really was too bad, you being dishonorably discharged from the military. But just because you got caught doesn’t mean you’re off the hook with me.”
“I did what you wanted. All the jobs. We had an agreement.”
“That’s right. We did. But there’s more to do. And you know what’s at stake if you choose to walk away from our arrangement.” He shakes his head. “It’d be a shame to expose everything you’ve done. But who knows what I’ll do if you don’t lend me a hand here?”
My mind trips back to the night after her parents’ funeral, when a car with no headlights sideswiped Savannah and ran her off the road. She was inches away from slamming into a tree, and given the speed, she’d have likely been killed.
The totaled car, Savannah slumped motionless over the steering wheel, surrounded by shards of glass and blood.
It happened right after I told Wilkerson I was leaving Whiskey Creek.
I swallow hard, the sides of my throat gritty like sandpaper.
The thought of working for Jack again makes my gut knot.
But this asshole has my dick in a vise because my father is a drunk-ass gambler who doesn’t know his limits.
Wilkerson bailed him out plenty over the years, and I’m the one who ends up paying off the debts that never seem to get smaller, no matter how much time passes.
Jack’ll expose me, send me to jail, where all the thugs I screwed over doing jobs for him will finally be able to get their revenge.
And worse . . . he’ll go after Savannah again. Only this time, his henchman won’t just run her off the road.
I laser him with a glare, my shoulders locked. “If I help you with whatever it is you want this time, my debt and my family’s debt are cleared.”
“If you deliver, then yes.” His eyes glitter with malice. “Just remember, I can make Savannah scream just as well as you can, though I don’t think she’ll much like my methods.”
“You fucking son of a bitch. Leave her alone.”
“I don’t think you’re in a position to order me around, Blaze. I hold all the cards here. And I’ll be in touch soon with the details.”
I shove open the door, get out, and slam it shut. Sweat prickles my skin as I stalk back to my truck.
Savannah is probably at Red Rock now, trying to come to terms with the loss of her aunt. She has no idea I just sold my soul to a crime boss to keep her safe. And she has no idea that whatever he wants me to do, I will deliver.
Because I’m Wilkerson’s weapon. And he just aimed me at the one person I can’t bear to hurt again.