Chapter Fourteen Blaze
Chapter Fourteen
Blaze
Her words pop between my ears like bullets.
“You couldn’t wait to leave me before.”
I press my fingertips to my temples, but it doesn’t do shit to block the words out. All I hear is her voice looping through my mind like a broken record. The ache of “what if” presses into me like a knife being plunged into my chest.
The front door slams shut a minute after Savannah storms out of my room.
I rake a hand through my hair. It’s better this way. She needs to hate me, to stay far away from me. And it kills me to hurt her by pretending I don’t care because I do. I care so fucking much. Always have.
But my choices put me in a position where, no matter how badly I want her, deep down I can never have her.
She’s too good for me anyway. Too good for Whiskey Creek.
She needed to get out of this town and spread her wings.
If pushing her away meant pushing her toward a new life in Denver, where she’d thrive away from danger and threats, then I did the right thing by her. Even if she’ll never know it.
I walk out of my bedroom and down the stairs, my boots thumping hard on the wood. Wyatt turns away from the door, eyes narrowed, his hand on the handle.
“What the hell happened?” he says. “Savannah just ran outta here like her ass was on fire. What’d you say to her to make her cry like that?
” His gaze darkens, and he lets go of the door.
He takes a few steps toward me. “She actually had fun today. Smiled. Laughed. And after a few minutes with you, she’s a mess.
Do you have to drag everyone into your fucking black hole? ”
My jaw tenses. “I didn’t make her cry. I barely spoke to her.”
“Well, maybe that’s the problem. You’re so wrapped up in your own misery that you don’t even realize it’s poisoning everyone around you.
” Wyatt shakes his head. “You know, you and Nash may not be friends anymore, but Savvie never did shit to you. We’ve known her our whole lives, and now of all times, when she needs support, you just fucking stomp all over her. ”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. Stay out of my business, Wyatt.”
His humorless laugh grates against my ears. “Nosing into your business would imply I give a shit about it. And I stopped caring a long time ago.”
I stare at my brother for a long minute. His face is twisted with anger, but shards of pain in the depths of his glare lance my heart like tiny daggers. “I told you I was sorry, that I wanted to make up for it. Give me a chance, Wy.”
He slowly shakes his head, his spine stiffening. “I had nobody when you left. And you didn’t care. I cried myself to sleep at night for a month.” His voice loses a bit of its edge. “You can’t just come back here and pick up where we left off. Too much has changed.”
He pulls open the door and stalks out of the house. The framed pictures on the walls shudder at the force of the door slamming shut.
Bryant is in the kitchen, stretched out on the floor, sunning himself by the window. I bend down and ruffle his ears. He doesn’t move, just cracks open one eye to look up at me.
“Do you hate me, too, boy? I left you along with the rest of them. Wouldn’t blame you if you did.”
He moves one paw so that it grazes the top of my boot. At least the dog still cares about me. I swallow hard past the growing lump in my throat, giving him belly rubs.
“Sorry,” I manage to croak out before rising to my feet. I pace the length of the kitchen when my phone buzzes in my pocket. I grab it and glare at the screen before letting the call go to voicemail.
I need air. I need space. I need something that doesn’t involve lies and manipulation and plans to destroy the only woman I’ve ever loved.
Familiar barn smells greet me, ones that dredge up memories I’ve tried so hard to bury. But right now, I want to remember. I need to remember.
I head toward the back stall, and her head lifts at the sound of my boots on the dirt floor.
“Hey, girl,” I whisper. Starlight’s ears perk up. I run a hand down her back, the silver threading through her chestnut coat catching the soft light. Twenty-four years old but her eyes are still bright and alert. She was Mom’s horse before she was mine.
Before everything went to hell.
My fingers gently graze the scar where she’d been bitten by a rattler years ago. Mom and I spent three days nursing her back to health, taking shifts, staying with her in the barn. Mom always had her nose in some romance novel. She used to love to read out loud to Starlight.
“You remember Mom, don’t you?” Starlight presses her muzzle against my chest. “She used to sneak you sugar cubes. She loved you so much.”
My throat tightens. Mom would’ve hated what I’ve become. She’d have been so disappointed in me. My choices. Doesn’t matter that there were good intentions behind all of it.
“Protect your brothers and keep them safe. And watch over your father. He’s not as strong as you. I love you, my sweet boy. Always and forever.”
Those were her last words to me.
“I tried, Mom. I swear I did,” I murmur. “But I couldn’t fix things.”
I saddle Starlight slowly, my hands moving through motions I could do blindfolded. I’ve been gone for so long, and yet she’s patient and trusting. Maybe she can feel my pain. Maybe she still believes I can be a better man.
The prairie stretches endless under the afternoon sky as we head down one of the trails. Starlight settles into an easy walk, slowly and carefully.
“I’m poisoning her,” I tell the horse. “Every day I stay here, every lie I tell her.”
I think about Savannah’s face when I found her holding Liam’s dog tags.
I was a total asshole to her, shutting her down when she tried to get me to open up to her.
But I couldn’t tell her the truth about him.
The truth is, I’m too ashamed to admit any of it.
Another example of how I’ve become the antithesis of the son my mom raised.
Liam died because I was reckless. Because I thought I could control everything and everyone, just like I’m trying to control Savannah now. I know the pattern. I’m just too damn stubborn to change it.
Six years ago, I lost control of everything, and disaster struck. I couldn’t protect the Carlsons. I couldn’t protect Savvie from the grief of losing her parents. And now she’s back, in danger again. Because of me. So if I can control the situation . . . control her . . . I can protect her.
And I have to hurt her to save her. I have to get in close and destroy her efforts with the ranch to drive her away for good. Because if she stays here in Whiskey Creek, Wilkerson will use her as leverage against me. If she leaves, she’ll be safe.
Except the thought of losing her again cracks my heart open.
I lean forward. “She deserves better,” I murmur into Starlight’s mane.
I’m complicit. Period. If I try to go public with what I know about Wilkerson, he’ll make me and everyone I love pay. And the price would be damn steep.
He’s got my balls in one hand and a machete in the other. And it’d give him great joy to chop them the fuck off if I step out of line.
My phone buzzes again. Wilkerson won’t wait forever. And if I piss him off, he’s liable to send another “message.”
I turn Starlight around, and we head back to the barn. Tomorrow I’ll sabotage something else. Tomorrow I’ll look Savannah in the eyes and lie to her face.
But right now, for just a few more minutes, I can pretend I’m not some asshole who’s caught in the crosshairs of a fucking criminal, that I can exercise my own free will and be out of his grasp, that I can be the man worthy of Savannah’s love.
Once we get back to the barn, my phone vibrates again. I don’t even have to look at the message to know who it’s from. And when I do, my stomach sinks.
My office. Fifteen minutes.
Fuck. He’s not a man who likes to be kept waiting, which I already knew.
And since he is a man who likes to take action first and examine the carnage later, I put Starlight back into her stall and dart over to my truck. A chill slips down the back of my neck when I look up to the storm clouds moving in overhead.
Looks like there’s more than one storm brewing.
The drive to Wilkerson’s office has my stomach in knots. Dark thoughts pollute my mind, the anticipation making my heart thunder in my chest.
I pull up to an office he keeps in town. It’s off the beaten path and away from the storefronts and crowds of townsfolk around Main Street. When you’re a thug-ass criminal, you want to keep a low profile, flying under the radar so you’re not being chased down by nosy eyes.
Years ago, I sat right here thinking I could handle Wilkerson. And my whole world crumbled around me when I challenged him.
I need a different plan this time if I’m gonna beat him at his sick and twisted game.
Gritting my teeth, I throw open the door and step onto the pavement. Leaves on the trees lining the sidewalk flutter faster as the wind kicks up. The rumble of thunder echoes ominously in the air, a distant crack of lightning illuminating the dark sky.
Here we fucking go.
Wilkerson doesn’t wait for me to speak. Once I step into his office, he’s out of his chair, his face a deep red, eyes sparking with ire.
“When I tell you to do something, Hartman, there’s no room for negotiation. Understand? You deliver. Period.”
I stand in front of him and fold my arms over my chest. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The Boot Barn last night.” He lifts an eyebrow. “Who the fuck told you to go riding in there like her knight in shining armor? This job is about one thing—me getting control of Red Rock Ranch. Not you saving your damsel in distress when, from what I hear, she didn’t even want your help.”
Rage claws up the sides of my throat, but I bite back the words I want to spew at him because they’ll only come back to haunt me and who knows who else.
“I need to get her to trust me so it makes sense when I show up to Red Rock uninvited. You want me to do this job? I have to make sure she’s not suspicious of me.
Everything I do builds that trust.” My nails dig into my palms. “And if you don’t like the way I work, then find someone else to take my place. ”
He smirks. “Just make sure you don’t fuck up this job.
Now, I hear she’s working on some things to get the place back up and running.
I don’t want her to get any ideas about ways that she can save that ranch.
She needs to understand that when bad shit happens, you need to cut your losses and move on with your life. ”
I flex my fingers, cracking each knuckle like I’m snapping bone after bone in Wilkerson’s body. “I’ve done my part. And she’s struggling.”
“I don’t believe you,” Wilkerson says. “Prove it.”
“Just the other day, I saw her water pump was broken. I pretended to fix it so it’d work for a little bit, but I cracked a piece of the spout in the process, just enough. It’ll only be a matter of time before it gives way and the entire pump is fucked.”
Wilkerson nods. “That’s a nice story, Hartman. But does it look like I’m a fucking ranch hand and understand all that bullshit?”
I just give him a half shrug. “You do enough to cheat people out of their land. I’d have figured you’d pick up some things along the way.”
Wilkerson’s hands grip the desk tight. “Watch your mouth, boy. You know what I can—and will—do if you don’t cooperate.”
My pulse hammers hard against my throat. I want so badly to lay this fucker out and drive a nail into each one of his damn eyes before slamming a hammer into his skull.
“Fine. But remember that you wanted me to gain her trust so I can get in close to actually cause problems for the ranch. I need to break her without making it look that way. So if I can’t go in to ‘help’ her fix shit, then she’ll find someone else to.
And that person might actually fix what’s broken.
Do you want another person moving in on your territory?
” I lift an eyebrow as his expression twists.
Because he knows I’m right. He’d rather have me control her . . . I mean, the outcome . . . than someone else.
“Fine.” He seethes. “Do what you need to do to get this done quickly, but do not screw this up.” He nods toward the door. “Now get out.”
“With fucking pleasure,” I mutter, storming out the front door.
Heavy raindrops pelt me once I step outside, each one hitting me like a gut punch.
As I reach my truck, my phone buzzes with a text from an unknown number.
Saw you at Wilkerson’s office. Interesting. Ticktock, Hartman.
A second later, the phone buzzes again. I open the photo. It’s of Savannah at Red Rock, going about her business.
I get into the truck, the rain drumming against the roof.
She’s being watched.
But then again, so am I.