Page 29 of Ink and Ashes

Colson

I ’m finishing up paperwork from the situation with Holland earlier when the klaxons sound again. I brace, prepared to head out to a fire, when the voice on the loudspeaker calls out for the ambulance instead.

Before the call alert even finishes, my phone rings, Cass’s name popping up on the screen.

“Hey.” I can hear the ambulance sirens in the background. They were still out at the party, so the call would’ve come through their radios. “Everything okay?”

She doesn’t bother with pleasantries. “Col, Sam and I got a call, but I just got off the phone with Holland and she needs someone to go pick her up. She can’t drive her car until Jimmy fixes the tampering, and?—”

My brows pull together as I stand from my chair. “Wait, what?”

“Oh, crap. Um, yeah, Jimmy said the fuel line was tampered with. I didn’t get many details, but I have to go, so can you…?”

Fuck .

Without a second thought, I grab my keys from the desk and head out to my truck. “Yes, go. I’ll get her.”

“Thanks, Col,” Cass says before hanging up, leaving me to process that information alone.

Holland’s car was tampered with. Whether the fire was intentional is still to be determined, but she definitely has a target on her back.

On my way to Jimmy’s Garage, I call Beau to let him know what’s going on.

After we responded to Holland’s call earlier, I’d come back to the station to write up the report, while most of the crew stayed out for the holiday.

I told him I’d be back as soon as possible, but given the situation, I doubt I will be.

He hangs up the call with a quick, “Go get ‘em, Tiger,” and I huff a laugh. Beau’s ability to make a joke out of a serious situation is unparalleled, but sometimes that hint of humour is exactly what’s needed to ease my anxieties.

Still, I break every speed limit on the drive to Jimmy’s Garage, my mind racing with so many questions. Normally it takes twenty minutes to get here from the station in a fire truck. I make it in fifteen.

Pulling into the parking lot, I instantly spot Holland sitting on the curb with her knees to her chest. I shove my truck into park and stare at her for a moment, trying to wrap my head around the chaos of this woman.

She’s distracted, staring down at the folder in her hand, and she hasn’t noticed me yet. It isn’t until I exit the vehicle and slam the door shut that her attention shifts to me.

Her brows pull together. “What are you doing here?” she asks. To anyone else on the street, they’d assume she was angry, with her furrowed brows and firm tone. But I see through that anger; beneath that mask, she’s terrified.

She should be.

I approach her slowly. “Cassidy got a call, so she asked me to come get you instead.”

Even if she hadn’t asked, the moment I found out it was tampered with, I would’ve been here. But Holland doesn’t need to know that.

“And you said yes?” she asks in disbelief.

I swallow roughly, nodding. “Cass told me what happened. Jimmy said someone tampered with the fuel line?”

She hands me the folder she’s holding, and I open it to find a full report of what happened with photo evidence. There are multiple pictures of proof that the fuel line was cut and clear markings of where the fire started.

Looking at it, the one thing I’ve been trying to avoid thinking pops into my mind.

Does this mean she’s actually right?

It’s Canada Day. It could’ve just been some kids pulling a prank. But it’d be a hell of a sick one if that’s the case, because fire or not, a cut fuel line could’ve gotten her killed. Plus, I don’t buy that it’s a coincidence that only Holland’s car was tampered with.

Her voice pulls my attention back to her. “Have you guys had any other calls for fires today?”

I look at her confused. “No, we haven’t. Why?”

She swallows, keeping her eyes trained on the ground. “It’s day fifteen, Colson.”

My eyes narrow before understanding dawns on me. This definitely wasn’t some kids playing a prank.

I can’t believe I didn’t realize it before now.

I glance back down at the file before meeting her dark-brown eyes. “We’re not going to get called to another fire today,” I state. It’s not a question. “Your car was fire number ten.”

She nods, her eyes growing glassy, and that’s a punch directly to my gut.

I’ve been so determined to prove her wrong because the press has never been on my side before. So determined that I’ve spent five weeks ignoring what’s been in front of me all along.

Whether I want to believe it or not, this town has an arsonist. And Holland is the only one who’s been brave enough to do something about it.

Ever since she rolled into town, she’s left a trail of destruction in her wake.

I still don’t know what exactly happened back home, but I’m sure part of her is running from it.

It’s clear from her determination and resilience that her business here is an attempt to prove herself to those she left behind, and I’ve been so resentful toward her, knowing she’s using our town and circumstances to fix whatever’s wrong in her life.

But I see now that even if that is the case, she’s also the only one who’s seen these fires for what they are. She truly just wants to help us.

It’s time I start letting her.

I take a step closer to her and the look on her face grows wary. When she doesn’t back away, I take another step forward and wrap my arms around her. It takes her a moment to relax, but once she does, I feel her shoulders begin to shake.

“You’re okay.” I brush my mouth against the top of her head, her scent invading me. “I believe you, Rhodes.”

She pulls back to look up at me, her face tear streaked. “What?”

“I believe you.” I hand the file about her car back to her and start walking backward toward my truck. “Come on.”

She follows me hesitantly. “Where are we going?”

“First, to the police station so they can take that statement they thought they didn’t need. After that, we’re getting food to take our minds off everything, then I’ll take you home.”

She pulls her lower lip between her teeth, nodding softly, before she makes her way over. I hold the passenger door open for her as she pulls herself up, buckling her seatbelt, then shut the door and make my way around to the driver’s side.

Once I’m comfortable, I take a moment to look over at her. Despite the obvious fear in her eyes, I swear she’s never looked better than she does right now. The image of her sitting in my passenger seat in her tight clothes is going to be burned into my mind for weeks to come.

I’ve spent so long forcing myself to ignore how attracted I am to her simply because I hate what she stands for. Now that I’ve given myself permission to trust her, I can’t tear my gaze away.

Holland Rhodes doesn’t just light up a room when she enters it. She sets it on fire . And fuck if I don’t find myself wondering what it would be like to be burned by her.

“Eyes on the road, Lieutenant,” Holland says, and I shake out of it.

My lips quirk up. “So much better without the Killjoy,” I tell her as I put the truck in reverse, backing out of the parking lot.

Holland’s laugh is gentle before she turns her attention back toward the file. The drive to the police station is short and silent, and when we get there, I turn to her again.

“You ready?” I ask.

She nods, but just as she moves to get out, her phone dings. She glances down at the notification, her brows pulled together.

“What is it?”

She turns her phone toward me, and the screen shows a new email from the same email address that sent the first one. Like that one, this one has no body matter—simply a subject that reads: Consider this your last warning. Next time, it’ll be you that burns.

“Fucking hell,” I curse. That’s all the confirmation we need.

I get out of my truck and round the front of it, opening her door for her. She doesn’t turn to me though, frozen as she stares at the screen. I can only imagine what she’s thinking about.

“Holland,” I say, placing my hand over the one holding her phone. “Come on. We’ll report this too.”

I cautiously help her out of the vehicle. Inside, they take her statement with no questions asked once she shows them the proof. I hold her hand as she recounts it all, and when she finishes, they make a copy of the file so she can also submit it to her insurance company.

As we make our way back out to the lobby, my uncle pulls me aside.

“Be right back,” I tell Holland, gesturing to the chairs along the wall. Then I join Mike on the other side of the room.

“This still sounds like it was just some stupid kids playing a prank,” he grumbles. “Lord knows the girl had it comin’.”

I ball my fists at his words, my hypocrisy staring me dead in the eye.

I said the same thing just a few weeks ago, but hearing it from someone else fuels the anger deep within me.

No one deserves to spend their life looking over their shoulder, and I’ll be damned if this gets brushed under the rug because it’s Holland.

I shake my head, forcing myself to remain calm. “I thought so too. But Mike, as much as it pains me to say it, I do think she’s right,” I tell him as I look back over at her. We’re far enough away that she’s out of earshot, but she keeps her eyes trained on me.

Knowing she’s watching me has my lips curling into a smile.

I look back to my uncle. “The fires we’ve been fighting have happened on a near perfect schedule, the number of days between each increasing by one day each time.

It started with ten days between fires, then eleven, and so on.

Our last fire happened fourteen days after the previous one, which means the next should happen fifteen days later.

Well, today is day fifteen. Her car was the only fire we got called to. ”

Uncle Mike still looks unconvinced, and I make a mental note to look into him.

I can’t imagine my uncle committing arson, especially not as the town sheriff and the father of a firefighter.

But then again, I never thought anyone in this town would be capable of something like this.

Holland’s revelation has me looking at everyone in this town in a new light.

“We have ‘er statement. If anything comes from it, I’ll let ya know.”

Jaw clenched, I nod at my uncle and then head back over to Holland without so much as a goodbye.

“Everything okay?” Holland asks, a timidness to her, and it breaks my heart a little bit. This woman who’s normally so bold and confident has poured everything into a town that’s wanted nothing to do with her.

I’ll be damned if this town is the thing that breaks her even more.

So as I stand here watching the war wage in her chocolate irises, I vow to myself to make sure nothing like this happens again.

I’ve been in denial about her theory, but I’m done pretending not to see what’s standing right in front of me.

Resisting her theory doesn’t mean it isn’t true.

Starting right now, I’m entirely on her side.

“Yeah,” I say, swallowing roughly. “Let’s go.”