Chapter Ten Blaze
Chapter Ten
Blaze
I told myself I was only going over there to keep an eye on her, and then that guy walks out of her kitchen. Shit, my self-control damn near cracked like a frozen pipe.
“That fucking guy. Showing up like that, telling her he’s gonna look after her animals.” I scoff. “What the hell was he lookin’ at when those nails were there, plain as day?”
The way he looked at her . . .
Like a predator, tearing off every piece of clothing she had on . . . with his teeth. I shoulda knocked them out when I had the chance. And I will if he shows up again. Guy’s probably starved for pussy. He’d better find it somewhere else.
I slam my fist on the steering wheel and my foot on the gas to get as far away from Red Rock as I can, my heart thumping hard.
I know I’m being a jealous asshole. The expression on her face when she saw me made it pretty clear she was enjoying herself and that I wasn’t welcome.
Her smile, the sound of her laughter, the glint in her eyes .
. . that all used to be reserved for me.
I thought I’d buried all the useless feelings and emotions after six long years, but the craving is more intense than ever now.
It’s inconvenient as fuck since now I’m supposed to be destroying her chances with the ranch and sending her all the way back to Denver again. Not keeping her close where my body needs her.
Where my heart aches for her.
Guilt chews at my insides. If she fails, Wilkerson leaves her alone, and she loses her family legacy. If she wins, Wilkerson crushes her.
Either way, she’s screwed . . . and there’s nothing I can do to fix that.
But if I can drive her away, she’ll be safe in Denver. It’s better for her to lose the ranch than her life.
I ain’t her white knight. Never was, as much as I wanted to be. She thinks she saw through the darkness in me, but all the light was sucked out after Mom died. Savvie only saw emptiness, a hole that kept getting filled up higher and higher with anger, regret, and hatred for what I had become.
I pull up to my family’s house and slump back against the seat.
Fucking fabulous. Dad and Colt are here.
I really need to find a new place to live.
Walking toward the front door feels like impending death by firing squad.
Maybe they’ll be in his office and I can just—
“The prodigal son returns.” Colt’s smug voice grates against my ears as I walk inside. “You ever gonna do some work around here? Earn your keep? Or are you just here to bleed us dry before you go look for greener pastures?”
My spine stiffens, and I slowly turn to look at my brother.
“No words, huh? Well, that’s okay, brother. I’ve got plenty of ’em for you.” Colt narrows his hazel eyes, his jaw clenched so tight, his teeth might crack.
“Look, Colt, I don’t wanna get into this with you.” I try to push past him, but he blocks my path, then pulls me back so I have no choice but to look at him.
“Why not? ’Cause you can’t stand hearing how you couldn’t hack it as Dad’s number one?” he says. “Meanwhile, I fixed everything you broke and made us better. Stronger. Now I’m the guy. You’re just the pussy who’s comin’ back to suck at the teat.”
With a flick of my wrist, I grab his hand and shove him backward so he slams against the wall. Framed photos on either side of him shudder at the force. I fist his shirt in my fingers, leaning in so I can see the fear flickering in the middle of all that cocky, self-righteous arrogance.
“You ever call me a pussy again, and I’ll tear out your tongue and choke you with it.”
Colt’s eyes widen, his breaths short and sharp. But he doesn’t open his mouth again.
Smart. Very fucking smart.
“That’s right. You’re behaving yourself now, aren’t ya?” I flash a humorless smirk at him. “Who’s the pussy now?”
Voices drift into the foyer, and my jaw tightens. I nod toward the back of the house. “Who the hell is here?”
Colt yanks himself out of my grip . . . but only ’cause I let him. “Dad’s in a meeting.”
Blood ices in my veins. “What kind of meeting?”
“The kind you don’t get to hear about anymore, since you ran away with your dick between your legs.”
He’s lucky he managed to get out of my reach, or else I’d’a—
“Colton will learn everything he needs to. He can handle himself just fine. He’s the guy I need by my side. He knows just how much pressure to apply to keep everyone in their place.” Dad’s voice drifts down the hallway.
“That’s good to hear, Harlon.”
My gut clenches as the voices get closer to the foyer.
“Colt is loyal as the day is long, and he knows exactly what to do to make sure nobody gets in our way. He’s ready. Blaze was always too headstrong for his own good,” Dad says.
His words are like acid melting my skin.
He thinks I’m worthless, useless to him, after everything I did to save our business and our livelihood.
After he sold me out again and again to that motherfucker Wilkerson after running up debts.
After he gave Wilkerson my contact information overseas and let him drag me back into this hell I thought I’d escaped.
Colt was right about one thing. I did walk away. But not ’cause I was a scared little pussy bitch.
Every day in Whiskey Creek was a reminder of what I helped to destroy. Guilt ate at me, over Savannah’s parents dying, over getting the Carlsons involved with Wilkerson, over watching Savannah grieve, knowing I was partly responsible for her pain.
Savannah was my anchor, always seeing the man I wanted to be. But I was trapped in my own personal hell with no end in sight because of my father’s choices.
My escape was just an illusion, though.
I was never really free, and Wilkerson made that damn clear when he brought me back to settle my dad’s latest debt.
Footsteps thump down the hall, an imaginary icy hand clenching me by the throat when Dad appears, followed by none other than that scumbag bastard Wilkerson.
“Blaze,” Wilkerson says in that oily voice that could clog a pipe. “I heard you were back. On leave?”
“Yeah,” I manage to choke out. “In between tours.”
He smiles, pleasant enough, but the malice in his eyes flips my stomach. “Enjoy your time off.” Wilkerson nods at Colt. “Your dad has great things to say about you. Looking forward to working together.”
“Same, sir,” Colt says, turning toward me with a cutting glare.
Wilkerson raises his hand to wave, then walks out the door. I narrow my eyes at the front window when a blacked-out Ford Raptor pulls up in front of the house. Wilkerson steps up and slides into the passenger seat, looking like the cat that chewed the canary up and spit it out again.
I whip around to my father. “What the hell was he doing here?”
Dad shrugs. “He approached me with a new business opportunity. Big money. Little risk. We were going over details.”
I snort. “Is that supposed to be code for ‘I fucked up again and need his money to fix it’?”
Colt looks between us, confusion etched into his expression. Realization slams into me hard.
Dad just stares at me, panic in his gaze.
Colt doesn’t fucking know, does he? He doesn’t know about the debts, about the Wilkerson bailouts, about me being his fucking errand boy?
Holy shit.
What the hell would my mom say if she knew the kind of shit Dad sank us into? How he just spiraled after her death, leaving me to clean up his messes? But, of course, Colt and Wyatt were too young, so it all fell on my shoulders.
Clearly, things haven’t changed. Colt thinks he’s being groomed to take over the business. He has no idea that Dad’s been running said business into the ground for the better part of a decade and that I’m the only reason why Dad wasn’t killed years ago for defaulting on his debts.
I stalk past them both, walk into the den, and grab a bottle of Wild Turkey while Dad and Colt head back to the office.
My lungs squeeze tight like they’re being lassoed by a thick metal chain as I shove open the front door and get back into my truck.
I pull off the bottle cap and suck down a mouthful of whiskey, welcoming the burn of the liquid scorching the sides of my throat.
I swing the steering wheel around and speed out the gates.
Once I’m on the main road, I drive back toward Red Rock.
There’s no doubt in my mind that Wilkerson didn’t show up at my house today for a business meeting. I’d bet my left nut it’s because he wants to keep tabs on me. And I guarantee he’s got someone . . . maybe a lot of someones . . . watching Savannah too.
Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, right?
Because Wilkerson and I are definitely enemies. The worst of ’em.
I throw the truck into park and shut off the ignition. Grabbing the head of the bottle, I take another long gulp, not giving a damn that me being here screams obsessive.
Can’t control Dad, my brothers, or Wilkerson. Everything is upside fucking down.
Savannah is vulnerable here at Red Rock. She’s isolated and alone, a target for someone like Wilkerson. If I can somehow control this fucked-up situation, I can keep her safe.
Hours pass, and I doze off after the whiskey is long gone. When I wake up, the sky is an inky black. The only lights are the ones glowing in Savannah’s windows. I blink hard and shoot up in the seat.
A shadow moves across the porch.
Or did it?
Maybe I’m seeing things. Peering through the trees, I scout the area by the house. No trucks or cars, other than hers.
My heart stutters in my chest, Wilkerson’s and Nash’s warnings feasting on my brain like a parasite.
There might not be a threat tonight.
But I know sure as shit that it’s coming.
Sooner rather than later.