Chapter Eight Blaze
Chapter Eight
Blaze
Every time I tell myself to stay away, she drags me back under her spell. So even though I know I should leave this place and my past forever and tell Wilkerson to fuck off, one look at Savannah and I’m exactly where I shouldn’t be, ready to bleed for her.
Or kill, if it comes down to that.
I chomp down on the toothpick in my mouth, watching her stop outside Brixton’s General Store to talk to an older rancher’s wife named Eloise Murray.
Miss Eloise and her husband have a ranch not too far from my family’s.
Miss Eloise used to bake us the best chocolate chip cookies I’d ever tasted, the kind with huge chunks of chocolate—one good memory from my otherwise shitty childhood.
Years later when Savvie and I started seeing each other, I’d bring them to her since she had a pretty demanding sweet tooth.
We’d eat them, then fuck under the stars.
Those memories are the one bright spot in the middle of a shit ton of darkness.
Something catches my eye, though. Something that makes me sit straight up like a fire poker was just shoved straight up my ass.
A man. Tall guy, glasses, khakis. I narrow my eyes.
Who the hell is that?
My truck is parked far enough out of the way to keep me hidden from Savannah but close enough for me to listen in on the conversation.
“Savannah, how are you, sweetie? How are you making out with the ranch?” Miss Eloise motions to the man standing next to her. “This is Dr. Tyler Burgess, the new town veterinarian. If your cattle are sick, he’s the one to call.”
Savannah’s face relaxes into a friendly smile when she looks at him.
A pang slices my heart.
Dr. Tyler Burgess, you are a dead man. “Nice to meet you, Dr. Burgess.” Her smile widens as she shakes his hand.
My blood boils at the sight of his hand grasping hers.
He holds it longer than he needs to. I crack each one of my knuckles, imagining they’re his fingers. “But I hope I never have to call you.”
“Please, call me Tyler.” He chuckles. “And while I’m a terrible doctor for saying this, I really hope you do.”
The look of delight on Miss Eloise’s face makes me want to punch a hole in the windshield.
Jesus, get a fucking grip.
Savannah’s cheeks flush a deep pink, and she twists her long ponytail in her fingers as she gazes up at him. “That is really terrible of you to say.” Then she winks. “But flattering, so thank you.”
Tyler grins, and he adjusts his glasses. Fucking wannabe Clark Kent. “I’d be happy to come over and do a house call for ya. Check out the herd, make sure they’re all healthy.”
“Really?” she says. “That would be so great. I’m going through a bit of an adjustment with my crash course in ranching, so I’ll take all the help I can get.”
He pulls a business card out of his pocket. “It’d be my pleasure. Just give me a call, and we’ll set it up.”
“Thank you again. That’s such a nice offer.” She slips the card in her bag.
I used to be the only one who could make her blush like that.
The urge to get out of the truck and throttle the fucker grabs hold.
It takes everything in me to stay hidden.
Instead, I pull the brim of my hat lower, seething, as they keep talking for a few more minutes about the ranch, baking, and other mindless shit that barely registers because I’m too focused on Tyler’s eyes raking over Savvie’s body.
Miss Eloise, you’re dead to me.
My jaw aches from clenching it so hard. If this Tyler guy shows up as her savior, she’ll lean on him, trust him, let him in.
I grit my teeth as Tyler continues down Main Street, walking like he doesn’t have a care in the world, completely oblivious to the fact that I’m plotting his murder.
For a split second, I consider following him, running him over, and leaving him for dead.
She’s really gonna fall for that bullshit about him wanting to help her out? Only thing he wants to help her with is getting her clothes off.
Savannah heads into the general store after she and Miss Eloise say goodbye. My hand is locked on the door handle when my phone rings. I grab it from my pocket.
“Son of a bitch,” I mutter, cracking it against my steering wheel. With a sharp sigh, I stab the Accept button. “Yeah?”
“Hello, Hartman. Time to focus on your new job.” Wilkerson’s voice makes my vision bleed red.
“While I made Margaret Wilson several very generous offers to buy her ranch, she continually refused. And now, it seems that Savannah has inherited the ranch under the condition that she makes it profitable in six months. Otherwise, it’ll get sold off at auction. ”
My jaw drops. “How the fuck do you even know all of that?”
“I know everything, Blaze. Or have you forgotten?” He pauses.
“Now, since I want that land and I can’t wait for an auction six months in the future, you’re going to use that Hartman charm to wiggle your ass into her good graces and make sure she fails.
Quickly, so that she’ll realize her best option is to sell early to me and walk away with at least some profit.
I’ll give her above market value to sweeten the deal. ”
“What the fuck do you want me to do? How am I supposed to make her fail?” I bite out.
“You’re going to show up there, looking like a concerned friend who wants to help.
And then you’re going to sabotage every effort she makes to get the ranch operational.
Tamper with equipment, crack water lines, cut fences .
. . anything you can think of that will derail her plans and make her realize she’s not cut out for ranch life.
I want you to make her crumble, and when she is at the end of her rope and ready to give up, I’ll make her an offer to buy Red Rock.
By then she’ll be so broken down, she’ll have no choice but to take it. ”
I scrape a hand down the front of my face. She’s working so damn hard because this is the most important thing in her life right now. How the hell am I going to take a sledgehammer to her hopes and dreams?
Again?
“Why can’t you wait the six months?” I ask.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I have a lot of deals in play that are dependent on me getting access to her water supplies. There’s no time to waste, Blaze. I’m not a patient man. Stop stalking the woman and get your ass to work.”
My head jerks left and right. He’s fucking following me too?
He’s got me in a corner, and he knows it. So the only thing I can do at this point is agree to do the fucking job. “Listen, Wilkerson. You want this done, then you’re gonna let me handle it my way. I don’t appreciate people looking over my shoulder. Makes my trigger finger very fucking itchy.”
“Threats won’t work on me, Blaze. You know why? Because you’re still my bitch. And you will be until that ranch is in my name. So you do what I say when I say to do it. Understand?”
I end the call before I say something that’ll get me killed and pound my fist on the dashboard, a knot of anger choking me.
He’s got me by the dick, but he won’t do anything to screw me over because for now he needs me.
I throw open the door of the truck, my boots landing hard on the sidewalk.
Scraping a hand down the front of my beard, I slant a look over my shoulder.
If I see that bastard lurking somewhere, I’m gonna put my fist through his throat. Fuck the consequences.
But there’s no Mercedes hiding in the shadows. No threat to her. Yet.
Through the front window, I see Savannah pick things off a shelf.
She heads to the register and laughs at something Mrs. Brixton says.
As much as I hate that she’s reserved that part of herself for everyone but me, I know I don’t deserve to have the best parts of her anymore.
I gave them up, and even though I regret it every day, I know I made the right choice. Because she’s still alive.
But Wilkerson’s words from years ago stick like barbed wire in my mind as I pace in front of my truck.
I own you, Blaze. And if you mess this up, I will crush you and everyone you care about.
The door to Doc’s Tavern flies open. Nash staggers out, stinking of booze and desperation.
He manages to steady himself, his eyes searing hate when he sees me. “What the hell are you doing here?”
The door chime rings a few storefronts up, and Savannah walks out of the store with an armful of bags. She doesn’t see us, just heads straight to her car parked nearby. I watch until she’s safely inside before turning back to Nash.
He scoffs. “You spying on my sister now?”
“Somebody’s gotta have her back. You’re too busy at the bottom of a bottle to care that she’s drowning at that ranch.”
“You lost the right to get involved with my family business, Blaze.” Nash edges closer, his teeth clenched. “When you deserted me the night of the attack that killed my parents and uncle.”
“When the hell are you gonna get your life together and stop blaming everyone but yourself for what went wrong, Nash?” I bite out. “You think I didn’t pay for what happened that night? I hated that I wasn’t there to help you.”
“Well, someone tipped that rival crew off. They knew about the delivery, and you left me alone to handle it. We coulda held those bastards off if you’d’a shown up.
I lost everything that night. The money I made helping out with Wilkerson’s jobs dried up when you took off.
Insurance paid out since the police report blamed a propane leak for the explosion, but the settlement wouldn’t cover a rebuild after the debts were paid off.
But did you give a damn about any of that?
” He stops, fists clenched like he’s gonna crack one against my jaw.
“Nope. My best fucking friend left me to fucking rot so he could go play soldier.”
I level him with a glare. “I had my reasons.”
“Yeah, well, you shoulda thought long and hard before comin’ back here.
Wilkerson has a lot of enemies, and they all know you ran shit for him.
If they find out you’re back here, they’ll come for you.
” His stale whiskey breath roils my gut.
“And don’t drag my sister into your shit show either.
Stay the hell away from her. Otherwise, she’ll have a matching target on her back. ”
He pushes past me and stalks across Main Street. Horns blare and tires squeal when he doesn’t bother to look before he crosses.
Blood pounds between my temples, drowning out all sound except for the ominous voice in my head.
If Nash is right, then every fucking man with a grudge is plotting my destruction. And Savvie’s already in the line of fire.
I pull open the door to my truck and sink onto the seat, fingers tightening around the steering wheel as if it were Wilkerson’s throat.
And I’ll burn this whole damn town down before I let anyone touch her.