Page 42 of Ink and Ashes

Holland

T he next few days pass by in a blur. Colson has barely been at the inn, splitting most of his time between the station, the hospital, and helping Finn’s family plan his service. Even when I have seen him, there’s been an air of awkwardness between us.

Since that kiss—the one I haven’t been able to stop thinking about—and Colson’s breakdown that day at the church, we’ve both been walking on eggshells around each other.

Both of us are desperate to let it happen again, but neither of us are willing to face the consequences of what will happen if we do.

So we’ve been pretending like it doesn’t exist, even though we both know it does.

I’ve been in touch with Dom and Cass over the past few days, and both of them have conveyed concerns about Colson’s mental health.

Knowing his history, I won’t lie and say I haven’t been worried about him too.

I’ve been trying to keep a closer eye on him when I do see him, but it isn’t easy when he’s been keeping me at an arm’s length.

But even though I haven’t seen much of him, he has still been good about keeping me in the loop via text.

He’s messaged me a few times each day, letting me know that he just needs some space right now, but if anything weird happens, he’s only a phone call away.

He admitted that he’s having a hard time being around me, and that coupled with everything since Finn just has him too overwhelmed.

I get it, but I’m not going to lie and say I haven’t missed him this week.

But he’s also made sure to have Dom check on me more than usual, which has given me some peace of mind. He’s still going out of his way to protect me while also doing what he must to protect himself.

I know part of him is blaming himself for what happened. I think he might also be blaming me a little, since it was my actions that led to the arsonist being discovered. If the fires had gone undetected, there’s a strong chance Brian Finnegan would still be alive.

Which is why, for the past week, I’ve kept my head down, trying to focus all my attention on my research. Dom’s also been busy with everything post Finn’s death, so aside from the times he’s been by to check on me, I’ve been working on my own.

The day before the church fire happened, I also did speak with Liam again.

He’d been on my radar since the beginning with how interested he is in the fires, but after what I learned from PD, I realized it can’t be him.

He’s a total creep, but whoever’s behind these has studied fire for years and clearly has advanced technological experience.

Unfortunately for all of us, Liam doesn’t fit either of those aspects.

The knowledge of fire is ultimately what convinced me we’re dealing with a firefighter.

As sickening as it is to know that someone who has dedicated themselves to putting them out could also be the one causing them, it makes sense.

This person is obsessed with fire, and since they’ve managed to fly under the radar for so many years, they obviously weren’t setting fires every day or even month.

Which means they had to find that thrill elsewhere, and that’s when they decided to start fighting them too.

I wouldn’t even be surprised if once they became a firefighter, their urge to set fires settled some, since that thrill they were seeking was being replaced.

But I doubt it lasted long. At some point, it would’ve gotten boring, and they picked right back up where they left off.

But it was in a way that let them go undetected, at least until this year.

I don’t know what’s so special about this year. But considering the number of fires Ember Grove has fought already, it’s clear it’s significant to the arsonist, and so is this town.

The only possibility I’ve come across is that this year marks thirty years since Welland Ranch burned.

But if it’s something related to that, I have no idea what.

The whole family is dead. I suppose it’s possible that a friend of the family is trying to avenge them, but no one on the team was close to the Wellands.

Half of them weren’t even born yet or were too young to remember, and quite a few didn’t live in Ember Grove at the time.

Of the ones who could’ve known the family, I can’t find anything connecting them.

This whole thing is driving me crazy. Because on top of everything, my profile is no longer relevant.

Knowing the arsonist intentionally harmed someone changes everything.

I’ve basically had to start from scratch, and that means that save for the few who I’ve come to know well, any of those guys could be behind these.

I run a hand through my hair, then navigate to the fake email I’ve been using for tips.

It’s the same one I posted on the forum when I first arrived in town, and while I’ve had plenty of people send me messages, none of it has been helpful.

I still check it daily, hoping eventually, something useful will come through.

But like every day since I posted it, today is not that day.

I let out a sigh, then pick up my phone to navigate to my text thread with Colson. The last text he sent is from yesterday, telling me he wouldn’t be home until late. I appreciated him letting me know, but considering I still haven’t seen him, I’m beginning to wonder whether he came home at all.

Needing a distraction from my thoughts of Colson and stressing over the fires, I grab my car keys and head out of my room.

The one good thing that came from the past few days was getting the call from Jimmy saying my car is safe to drive again. Colson took me to pick it up on Monday, and since I no longer need his truck, I’ve seen him even less since then.

I hop into the front seat, driving in the direction of the hospital.

I’ve come by twice this week to visit Ollie, and he’s opened up to me a lot in the past few days.

Told me about his childhood, where he grew up, how he became a firefighter.

I’ve gotten the sense that Ollie tries so hard at the station because that’s how he’s always been.

He’s doing his best to fit in, and sometimes he makes rash decisions in the process.

The biggest thing I’ve learned in all he’s shared is that Ollie had a picture-perfect childhood, with parents who loved him and lots of friends.

When his family relocated to Ember Grove a few years back, he lost his sense of belonging and had to start fresh.

That’s hard at any age, but even harder at eighteen.

The things he’s shared with me over the past week have all but convinced me he’s not behind these.

Whoever the arsonist is would never open up in such a way.

They’ll be closed off and keep to themselves, which is the opposite of Ollie.

He may fit other aspects of an arsonist profile, but while there are some overlaps, he doesn’t fit the aspects of a murderer profile.

And that’s what we’re looking for now: a murderer.

I pull up out front of the hospital ten minutes later to find Colson’s truck in the parking lot. I hesitate for a moment, debating whether or not I should come back later, but ultimately decide to head inside. If he wants to avoid me, he can leave, but I’m not going to.

I pull myself from my car and make my way through the front doors. I smile at the nurses at the front desk as they let me pass through the doors toward the burn unit. I don’t stop until I make it to the end of the hallway, then turn right into Ollie’s room.

Colson’s head whips up from where he sits at Ollie’s bedside, while Ollie slowly turns his in my direction, a smile gracing his face .

“Holland, hey,” Ollie says.

“Hi, Ollie,” I say back, glancing between the two men. “Sorry. Am I interrupting?”

Ollie shakes his head. “Nope. We were just hanging out.”

I nod. “How are you doing?”

Ollie shrugs, flexing his fingers in the cast. “I’m okay. Doc’s still got me on painkillers, but the burns don’t really hurt anymore. They just feel tight.” He flexes his right hand—the one covered in bandages to protect the burns. “I’m ready to leave. One more day.”

My eyes widen. “They’re letting you out tomorrow?”

“I insisted. I’m not missing the funeral.”

My heart splits in half at those words. Cass texted me earlier in the week to let me know that the funeral is tomorrow but hearing it out loud has my stomach lurching.

I nod, training my gaze on Colson, who keeps his trained anywhere but on me.

Ollie glances between us, clearly sensing the tension. He opens his mouth to speak, but Colson beats him to it.

“I should get going,” he says, still not looking at me.

Ollie frowns but doesn’t argue. “Alright, man. Thanks for coming by.”

Colson leans down to hug Ollie. When he pulls back, he says, “I’ll be back to pick you up tomorrow.”

Ollie smiles, then Colson moves toward me. My heart rate accelerates with each step closer he takes. I’m blocking the doorway, but I don’t bother moving.

“Rhodes,” Colson says as he wedges by me. He still doesn’t meet my gaze.

My brows pull together as I turn to watch him walk down the hall. I shake my head, my jaw falling open as I shoot Ollie a quick, “Be right back,” then follow after Colson.

I call his name, but he doesn’t stop, forcing me to pick up speed to catch up to him. When I do, I grab him by the arm, stopping him in his tracks.

“Hey, wait,” I say. “What the hell is going on, Colson? ”

He keeps his gaze trained above my head, shaking his. “Nothing, I’m all good.”

I bring a hand up behind his neck, tilting his head down, but his eyes still don’t move.

“Why won’t you look at me?”

Colson winces, his jaw flexing.

“Talk to me.”

He shakes his head, then finally, his gaze lands on mine.

“What’s going on?”

“I don’t know how to do this, Rhodes.”

My brows furrow. “Do what?”

“This.” He gestures between us. “Be friends with you. Work together. I haven’t been able to get that damn kiss off my mind since it happened, and between Finn’s death, chasing this stupid fucking arsonist in circles, and not being able to have you the way I want to, I’m losing my ever-loving mind.”

I exhale, brushing my thumb over his cheek. If only he knew I felt the exact same way. But I can’t be the reason he gets hurt again, so if keeping a bit of distance from me is what he needs, then so be it.

“We’re close, Colson. We’re going to catch this guy, and everything will go back to normal,” I tell him, not acknowledging his comment about me.

“Nothing is ever going back to normal.”

“I’m sorry,” I tell him, though I’m not sure what exactly I’m apologizing for. Maybe nothing. Maybe everything.

“So am I.” He swallows. “For avoiding you. I’ve needed to focus my attention elsewhere this week, and being around you wasn’t helping matters.”

“Don’t worry about it. I get it,” I say, then change the subject. “Will you be home tonight?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” My lips quirk up, and his do the same ever so slightly.

He takes a deep breath, then leans down to press a soft kiss to my forehead. “I’ll see you at the inn, Red.”

“See you there, Lieutenant. ”

With that, he turns and continues down the hall, looking back over his shoulder at me.

I blow out a breath, then make my way back into Ollie’s room.

“Sorry about that,” I say as I make my way around the bed to take Colson’s seat.

There’s a question written on Ollie’s face. “Is he doing okay?”

My shoulders fall. “Honestly? I don’t think so. But I’m trying to keep an eye on him, and so is everyone else.”

Ollie nods. “Lieutenant Caldwell’s a good guy, Holland.”

“I know he is.”

“You like him, don’t you?”

I shake my head with a laugh, but I don’t bother denying it. “You know I do.”

Ollie chuckles, then his face turns serious again. “But you’re leaving.”

My face falls too. “Yeah. Once this is done, I am.”

A brief silence fills the room. Ollie isn’t the type to try to beg me to stay, and I’m not sure there’s anyone I’d say yes to even if they tried.

Except maybe Colson.

After a beat, Ollie speaks again. “Are you any closer to finding the guy?”

I shake my head. “Feels like every time I think I have something, the arsonist proves me wrong.”

“Who do you suspect?”

Until now, Ollie hasn’t asked many questions regarding the case, so the fact that I suspected him hasn’t come up. I technically still can’t clear him until the next fire, but after this last one, I know in my gut that it’s not him.

I huff a laugh. “You really wanna know?”

Ollie nods.

“Well, until last Thursday, I suspected you.”

Ollie’s eyes widen. “Seriously?” Just as quick, his brows pull together. “Wait…do you think it’s a firefighter?”

Clearly, knowing I suspected him was enough to clue him into that theory, so I nod hesitantly .

“Well, fuck,” Ollie says simply.

I let out a sigh. “Fuck is right. And I have no idea who it could be.”

What’s worse is that I’m not sure how I’m going to figure it out either. But I don’t share that part with Ollie. This whole thing is getting the best of me, and the last thing I need is for people to start doubting me when I’m already doubting myself.