Chapter Sixteen Blaze
Chapter Sixteen
Blaze
She probably thinks my warning was a threat. But really, it was a confession. I’m already so far gone that if she gets any closer, I’ll drag her down with me.
Kissing her was fucking stupid, and I beat myself up over that asinine move all night long.
It’s gotten to the point where I can barely eat, sleep, or breathe without thinking about Savannah. So last night when I saw her with Tyler, it broke me. And I kissed her. I didn’t think about consequences, and there’s no shortage of those.
But for as much as I detest Wilkerson for putting me in this impossible position, at the very least, it gives me access to her.
Because she needs me, even though she told me to stay away from her. She still called me this morning.
And that’s something. Not everything, but I’ll take it.
I drive past Whiskey Creek to another town about twenty miles away.
Birch Falls. Sounds like a nice place from the name, but knowing that Wilkerson has his operations set up there means it’s been poisoned by his toxic business deals.
He’s also got crews of “workers” set up here, too, guys he pulls in for jobs, jobs I used to run for him.
Better them than me. I’m finished with that asshole. Right after he gets Red Rock, I’m done.
And Savannah will leave town.
Forever, this time. No doubt about that. There are too many ghosts haunting her here, and losing the ranch would just add one more to the list.
My jaw tightens. I’m sure that vet’d be disappointed to see her go.
Although . . . and the thoughts roils my gut .
. . if he sinks his claws deep enough into her, she might stick around longer.
And that’d be way worse than her leaving—seeing her with him, knowing I let her slip through my fingers again.
But the worst part is that Wilkerson might still use her to get to me. And I can’t let that happen. She has to go.
I stop my truck outside what looks like a tractor-parts storefront. It’s on the edge of town, tucked away in a remote spot that probably doesn’t see a lot of foot traffic. You’d only come here if you were a specific kind of customer.
Or if you were being threatened by the proprietor.
I pull open the door and step inside the place, a noxious cloud of cigarette smoke combined with the stench of stale beer and tractor fuel making my gut twist. Shelves of dirty machine parts line the space, and the layer of dust on them is about an inch thick.
“Anyone here?” I call out, walking deeper into the mess. My voice echoes, an eerie chill slithering over the back of my neck.
For the briefest second, I have to wonder if I’m walking right into my own hit because this is exactly the kind of place where you could mutilate and dispose of a body without anyone decent being the wiser.
And let’s face it. I don’t have any fans back in town who’d come looking for me if I suddenly disappeared.
They’d probably be relieved.
“Who’s there?” a sharp voice answers back, slicing through my thoughts.
Metal jangles in time with the heavy feet clunking across the floor, louder with each step.
A tall, lanky guy who looks like he hasn’t showered in a month glares at me with soulless blue eyes.
His messy hair is thick with grease and hanging in stringy strands around his gaunt face.
Jesus Christ, he looks like the living dead.
His stained gray tank top hangs off his skinny frame, wrinkled skin covered with faded tattoos.
My eyes latch on to one in particular creeping down the side of his neck, though.
One that I know is common to a certain gang that has dealings in the western region of the country.
I remember it well. And based on what Nash told me, they remember me well, too.
I force my eyes away from the image of hands gripping a lightning bolt.
“211” is their code for death and destruction, and even though I can’t see it, I know the number sits in the center of the image.
Lightning bolts are pretty popular, but you have to know to look deeper at the intricacy of the design to understand who these motherfuckers really are.
And they’re bad.
But then again, so is the man they work for.
The guy lifts an eyebrow, waiting for me to speak.
“Wilkerson sent me.”
He nods and walks over to a shelf of metal tools and parts. “This what you’re lookin’ for?”
“I have to fix some underground piping for an irrigation system,” I say, eyeing the contents of the shelves. I pick up a piece of coupling and turn it over in my hands. “And I don’t want it to hold for longer than a couple of weeks.”
“That there should work fine.” The guy narrows his eyes at me. “You’re the soldier, yeah?”
“Yeah,” I say abruptly, grabbing the materials I need. “I’m in a rush, so if you can just give me the total—”
He shakes his head, thin lips lifting into a sinister smirk. “Nah. This is on the house, soldier boy. Courtesy of Wilkerson.”
I give him a stiff nod and lug the equipment out to my truck. His footsteps approach as I load the pieces into the flatbed. Hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, my leg muscles twitching with the urge to run like hell.
“Hey,” he calls out.
I jerk my head around, fingers wrapping tight around a short metal pipe. He holds up an empty cardboard box. “Thought this might help.”
“Thanks,” I say, taking it from him and loading all the equipment into it. I get in the truck, turn on the ignition, and put the car in drive just as he slaps a hand on the passenger side door.
Fuck, I forgot to raise the damn window.
“Make sure you don’t fix that piping too good, understand, boy?” The guy chuckles, the look on his face making bile shoot up the back of my throat. “’Cause he’ll be watchin’. And you don’t wanna find out what happens if you fuck with him.”
“I know what to do,” I say through clenched teeth. “And you can tell him I said that.”
I stomp my foot on the gas, and the truck lurches forward, tires catching on the gravel as I try to get away from the guy and this whole fucking situation. When I get back to Red Rock, I notice a truck parked up by the house. Same truck I saw the other day.
Dr. Fucking Feelgood.
I swing the steering wheel around, maneuvering my truck close to the barn, gritting my teeth so hard, there’s a good possibility I might crack them. I get out, slam the door, and grab the box of equipment from the flatbed before stalking toward the underground-well system.
Guilt gnaws at my chest. I stare into the large dirt hole where I’m going to install the parts to make it look like the underground system is repaired. From the looks of the piping, it’d been wearing down over the years, so it was only a matter of time before it broke.
And now I’m going to pretend to fix it for her.
I pull out my phone and snap some pictures of the troughs, which are nearly empty again, and the pipes and coupling I brought back from Birch Falls. The pictures are for Wilkerson, evidence of the sabotage in case the son of a bitch claims I’m not doing what he wants out here.
Then I grab a shovel and start digging, keeping my eyes focused on the pile of dirt in front of me and not on Savannah’s kitchen window. If I look up . . . if I see him . . . I will go fucking insane.
You have no idea who you’re dealing with, Doc.
My fingers grip the handle of the shovel, wrapping tight around them.
The piping was buried pretty deep, and it takes me a while before the tip of the shovel finally hits something hard.
I lower myself to my knees and reach into the hole.
The coupling is completely cracked, and there’s no water flowing through the pipes anymore. It’s just soaking into the ground now.
After taking a few more pictures, I rummage through the box and grab what I need to do a Band-Aid-and-bubble-gum fix.
It’ll hold for a bit, and while Savvie thinks she’s well on her way to getting the ranch profitable because this crisis was averted, something else is gonna mysteriously “break.” Her livestock will be in jeopardy, and her hopes for income will go up in smoke.
And as she’s chasing down ranching disasters, she’ll realize what a big mistake it was for her to try to hang onto this place.
My heart sinks in my chest.
I don’t know how much time passes before I’m packing dirt back into the hole after finishing my shoddy patch job. And now I have a whole fucking photo album to get Wilkerson off my back, at least for the immediate future.
“Blaze.”
I stand up and wipe my hands on the front of my jeans. “I just finished. Your piping is fixed. Good as new.” I point a thumb at the troughs. “Why don’t you go and check them out?”
My eyes betray me and creep toward the house. Tyler is in the window, staring down at me. But there’s no frat-boy smirk on his face this time.
“Oh my God! They’re full!” Savannah turns and runs over to me. Then she throws her arms around me and hugs me tight, and fuck me if I don’t melt a little at that. But it only lasts for a second, and she jumps back, her eyes wide.
“Sorry, I just got excited.” A sheepish smile spreads across her face. “I baked some lemon-blueberry scones. Are you hungry? I remember they were your favorite. And you definitely earned them with everything you did today.”
I nod toward the house. “Looks like you’ve got company. I don’t think I should stay.”
“Oh. Yeah. I’d left Tyler a message about the water issue, and he decided to stop by to check in on things. Make sure there were no rusty nails around.” A nervous laugh escapes her lips.
“Yeah, well, I appreciate it, but I’m just gonna go.”
I pick up the box of tools and equipment and am heading toward my truck when Savannah’s fingers graze my arm.
Crushing waves of want, guilt, and disgust attack me on all sides, pummeling me into an emotional oblivion. Her fingertips are like a live wire against my skin, flooding my insides with electricity. I know she feels it, too, since she pulls her hand away like she’s just touched fire.
“Go, Savannah,” I say. “There’s nothing for you here. We both know it.” I hoist the box higher in my arms and turn away from her when every cell in my body wants me to pull her close and never let her go.
“I don’t think you mean that.”
I stare at her for a long minute. “You want to know what I mean?” I step closer, my voice rough.
“I mean that Tyler’s alive because I’m walking away right now.
I mean that every man who looks at you makes me want to do things that’d put me away for a damn long time.
I mean you should be terrified of what I’m capable of when it comes to you.
So yeah, Savvie. There’s nothing here for you.
Except a man who’d burn this whole town down before he’d let anyone else have you. ”
And then I force myself to walk away before I turn those words into reality.