Chapter Thirty-One Savannah
Chapter Thirty-One
Savannah
My hands clutch the steering wheel as I stare blankly out the windshield. So many memories tumble around in my mind, colliding with one another as realization blooms in the midst.
A few nights ago, I found out everything I thought I knew about Blaze Hartman was a lie.
And now . . . Nash, Blaze, my parents, his father .
. . they were all involved with some criminal.
And nobody ever said a word about it. How long had they been in bed with him?
How long had they been doing those jobs?
How long had I been in the dark for?
I swipe at the tears under my eyes. And Aunt Marg . . . did she know too? Uncle Aaron was killed in that explosion. Was every fucking person in my family part of that inner crime circle?
My heart lodges so high in my chest, I could choke on it. I try hard to drag in a breath, but my chest burns like it’s being torched, and a fresh torrent of tears cascades down the sides of my face.
That night . . . God, I remember that night.
Being with Blaze, out by the bluff. He’d been a little tense, but I just chalked it up to the fact that we were being secretive about our relationship.
Nash didn’t know about our affair at that point, so sneaking around always carried a fair amount of stress for us both.
My insides ice over, the coldness seeping into my bones.
Then I think about Harlon, how he referred to my parents as dear friends. How he’d have done anything for them.
He got them involved with a criminal, took advantage of them.
Anything for a price. I mean, he fucking sold out his own son for money.
He’s as much to blame as everyone else.
The pieces of the puzzle I refused to acknowledge back at Red Rock fall together.
Nash and I moved in with Aunt Marg after the explosion.
I never asked why we didn’t build something new, but if our ranch was in trouble, forcing my parents to work with that criminal group, there probably wouldn’t have been enough insurance left over after all the debts were paid off.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I cry out. “Why didn’t you tell me our ranch was in trouble and that we needed money?”
I’ve never felt more alone than I do in this second. It makes me think I really don’t have anyone, that leaving for Denver might have been the best move for me. Now more than ever, I believe staying here in Whiskey Creek was the worst decision I could have made.
And six years later, I signed on to protect our family legacy, but a legacy of what? Of smuggling, death, and illegal activity? For all I know, Aunt Marg was working with that group too. If anyone tells me different, I won’t believe them because they’re all a bunch of dirty liars.
“How could you do this to me?” I scream, slamming my hands against the wheel, my vision so blurred that I almost miss the possum that scurries across the road.
It stops right in the middle of the pavement, staring back at me, and I yelp, swerving out of its way.
My car off-roads into the thick grasses, bouncing over the rough ground until I skid to a stop.
I can’t sit here forever. But I sure as hell can’t go home. If I see Nash or Blaze . . .
I grit my teeth and steer my car back onto the road.
Fuck them for leaving me in the dark. Fuck them for not being honest with me.
And my parents . . . why would they ever think it’d be a good idea to get involved with a criminal? They raised us both to be smarter than that. How could they have bought into whatever bullshit Harlon fed them? How desperate were they for money that they’d jeopardize their livelihood?
Obviously desperate enough. But it doesn’t excuse their actions. And their decision took them away from us, which is such a damn jagged pill to swallow.
The betrayal and the secrets and the lies . . . we all failed that night.
I absently drive toward town, slowing down as I reach the hospital.
I pull into the parking lot. Wyatt must still be here, and I never made it back to see him after his accident.
I should visit him now.
Based on the conversation we had the day we went to Dolly’s for lunch, I don’t think he knows about this sordid mess. He’d mentioned that nobody ever told him about family business dealings, that he only picked up a few things here and there by eavesdropping.
Colt, on the other hand . . .
I shake my head and pull into a spot. I bet he knows everything. He’s always been such a power-hungry prick. He’d sell his soul for it.
A few minutes later, I stab the Up button next to the elevator after getting my visitor pass. Wyatt’s always been a friend, and right now, I need one of those. I need a distraction from the hellfire I unknowingly stumbled into after grocery shopping in town.
“Hey, Savvie,” Wyatt exclaims from where he sits on the bed. “Great timing. I just finished my physical therapy session for today.” He points a thumb at the pretty nurse ogling him. “This one’s a worse tyrant than the rest.”
The nurse giggles, dots of pink popping into her cheeks. “You’re a patient patient,” she says with a wink at him. “See you later.”
But I can’t return Wyatt’s smile. My eyes refuse to stray from Harlon. He sits in a chair in the corner, his dark eyes crinkling at the corners when he sees me.
“How are you doin’, Savvie?” he asks in a pleasant voice.
I move slowly into the room, toward him, my spine stiff.
He turned Blaze into a criminal. He sold his son into servitude, for Pete’s sake. He mismanaged his finances, his life, his family. And he used Blaze to save his own ass.
My lips pull into a straight line, wrath pounding through my temples.
“Savannah, what’s wrong?” Wyatt asks.
I point at Harlon. “You. You did this. You turned your son into a criminal. When you couldn’t handle yourself and the results of your bad decisions, you sold his freedom.”
“Wait, what’s going on?” Wyatt asks.
Harlon grips the arms of the chair and pushes off it. “Now, hold it right there, young lady. You need to sit down right no—”
“Don’t you dare tell me what to do,” I say. “And you had the nerve to look me in the eye the other day and say how close you were with my parents, how you’d always be here to help me with anything I need.” I shake my head, pressing my fingers against my temples.
“All the while, you planned out that job. You were responsible for my parents’ deaths. You got them involved with that criminal. And you never took responsibility.”
Harlon’s skin flushes a deep red. He sneaks a look at Wyatt before smoothing his hair back. “It was complicated. We were all desperate—”
I kick the leg of the chair. “Desperate? You got them killed. You and Blaze and Nash, running your criminal operation through their legitimate business.”
“Your parents made that decision. Nobody strong-armed them into getting involved,” Harlon growls. “That is not on me.”
“You brought it to them. You dangled it in front of them like a carrot, which they grabbed because they needed it.” Tears stream from my eyes. “My God, why did they do it? Why did they fall for your bullshit promises?”
“It was supposed to be an easy job. Nobody foresaw what would happen that night.”
“You made Blaze work for a crew of criminals. You destroyed him. You destroyed my family.” I look at Wyatt over my shoulder. “And I want your father to know what a low-life, lying snake I think he is. For destroying my life. For destroying Blaze’s life.”
Wyatt grabs my arm and gives it a little tug. “Let’s just talk about this, okay?”
I whip my head around, my eyes narrowed to slits. Blood pounds in my ears. “Did you know?” I croak out. “Did everyone but me know?”
Wyatt shakes his head. “I swear. This is the first I’m hearing of anything like this.” He turns a dark stare on his father. “Is it all true? Did you get wrapped up with some criminals, Dad?”
“Wyatt, it’s not for you to worry about,” Harlon says. “We’ll discuss this later.” He walks toward me, the vein in his neck throbbing. “Let’s talk outside. Alone.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.” I seethe. “You took everything from me. My parents are dead, and Blaze . . .” I can’t even fathom how things might have been different between me and Blaze if he hadn’t become such a pawn in his father’s games.
“Please. Just five minutes. There are things you need to hear.”
“Dad, maybe now’s not the best time—” Wyatt says.
Harlon just slices into him with a look before guiding me into the hall. I shrug out of his grasp and back into a wall in an attempt to put as much space between us as possible. I clutch my belly. Even looking at him makes me want to hurl all over his boots.
“You need to leave town.” His gaze hardens, eyes dark with foreboding.
My jaw drops, damn near hitting the floor. “What the hell are you talking about?”
He lifts an eyebrow and folds his arms over his chest, drawing himself to his full height. Fucking asshole. He’s trying to intimidate me.
Is this what he did to Blaze?
“It’s not safe for you here. Not anymore.”
“Because I know what a self-centered, arrogant, reckless man you actually are? Because I know enough to see through your mask, Harlon?” I take a step toward him.
“Am I . . . dangerous to you? Are you worried I might do or say something crazy to blow your carefully crafted tale of success? Because I’m so hysterical and unhinged?
” I manage a nasty smile. “Is that why you want me to leave? Because I’m not afraid of you or your threats. ”
He shakes his head, brows furrowed. “You need to leave because of Blaze. Because he cares about you. That makes you a target.”
“To the people you sold him to in the first place,” I say.
“All I’m saying is that the wrong people know who you are and where you live. I’m trying to help. To warn you of the danger.”
“Help me? After everything you’ve already done? You have a guilty conscience, Harlon?”
He moves closer, his voice dropping. “Savannah, you need to get out of Whiskey Creek. Tonight, if not sooner. These people don’t like loose ends.”
“Why would you try to help me? Why now?”