Page 49 of Ink and Ashes

Holland

C olson has been gone for a week fighting the worst wildfire they’ve seen yet. It started on day seventeen as we predicted, and it’s only gotten worse since then.

In the past seven days, I’ve received the odd text from him as proof of life, but I know they don’t get good service deep in the forest. I’ve been driving myself up the wall, worrying and wondering how things are going. If everyone’s okay.

I feel useless sitting here. I’ve tried to pour everything into solving the investigation over the past few days, in hopes that maybe this will be the last fire they fight because of the arsonist, but it hasn’t been easy.

My mind keeps racing back to Colson and the possibility that he’s not okay.

I know he knows what he’s doing, but that doesn’t make it better.

First responder spouses truly are some of the strongest people out there, because all we’ve done is kiss and I feel like my heart is out there in the fire with him.

It doesn’t help that I haven’t found much more regarding the arsonist either. I still have no proof that Joseph Welland is alive, and until I figure that out, I’m stuck. Because if it turns out that he faked his death, that changes my entire firefighter theory.

But Joseph being behind this is the thing that seems to be the most plausible to me now, because despite how far-fetched it sounds, the more I learn about the guys at the station, the less I believe one of them is responsible.

The problem is, I can’t exactly continue this investigation in any direction without knowing if my top suspect is even alive.

And I have no fucking idea how I’m going to figure out if he is.

I’m pulled from my thoughts when a knock sounds from the front door, so I drag myself out of the office to answer it. I rush down the stairs, hoping maybe it’s Colson finally returning home. But when I swing open the door, I’m stunned by the sight of the man standing in front of me.

“Gabriel?” I shake my head, making sure I’m not seeing things.

It’s been over two months since I last heard from him and blocked his number.

I guess I assumed that he’d give up once he lost contact with me.

But when I open my eyes to find him still staring back at me, I know that was wishful thinking. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Well hello to you too, Hol.” His voice is as slimy as I remember it. “I miss you, babe. I told you it was time to come home.” He reaches for me, but I pull away.

“No.” I cross my arms over my chest. “You lost the right to miss me when you cheated on me with your assistant. How the fuck did you even find me?”

A sly grin grows on his face as he pulls his phone out. My brows furrow in confusion as he navigates to whatever it is he’s looking for, then my anger grows when he shows me the tracker app open on his screen.

Fucking hell. I’d thought blocking his number would stop sharing my location with him, but looks like that was wishful thinking too.

“Probably should’ve turned this off if you didn’t want me to find you, Hollis.” Gabriel’s smile grows, and a shiver races up my spine both at the sound of my given name and the slimy look on his face. “Nice house. Whose is it? ”

“Mine,” Colson interrupts from behind Gabriel.

My heart rate accelerates from the sound of his raspy, exhausted voice alone.

I hadn’t even noticed him pull into the driveway, too shocked by my ex standing in front of me.

Not that I need him coming to my rescue, but knowing he’s finally home sends relief flooding through me for more reasons than one.

I force myself not to smile at his response to Gabriel’s question. Gabriel spins on his heel, and when he has to tilt his head back to meet Colson’s gaze, my laugh breaks free.

“Who the fuck are you?” Gabriel asks, anger present in his tone.

Colson shifts past him, turning his back to me to stand between us. His six-foot frame towers over Gabriel’s five-foot-nine, and his protectiveness over me sends the butterflies that have taken up residence in my stomach over the edge.

“I think I should be asking you that, seeing as you’re on my property.”

“Just here to collect what belongs to me.” Gabriel scoffs, rolling his eyes.

I can’t see the look on Colson’s face, but I’m betting it doesn’t change. “You’ll have to go through me to get her. She isn’t yours anymore. She’s mine .”

There go the butterflies again.

Part of me wants to speak up and explain to these two men that I’m not an item to be owned; that I don’t belong to either of them. But the truth is, hearing Colson call me his only makes me fall for him that much more, even if he is just saying it to get rid of Gabriel.

I would gladly belong to Colson Caldwell.

“Right.” Gabriel scoffs, completely unfazed by Colson’s remark.

He never has been one to get his hands dirty, and I’m certain he’s not going to start now.

“Let’s go, Hollis. It’s been long enough.

” Gabriel reaches past Colson to grab me, but before he gets the chance, Colson’s hand darts out, wrapping around his arm.

“Don’t. Fucking. Touch. Her,” Colson grits out, his voice so low it intimidates even me.

I watch Gabriel’s throat work as he swallows—his tell when he gets nervous—before he quickly steels his expression.

“Don’t fucking touch me ,” he growls, ripping his arm from Colson’s grasp. Crossing his arms over his chest, Gabriel stands tall against Colson. “Do you know who I am?”

Colson mirrors Gabriel’s expression, and I stand back to watch the pissing match currently happening on the porch.

“No, and I don’t care to.”

Gabriel’s eyes narrow before he shifts his gaze to me again. “My plane leaves Kelowna first thing tomorrow morning. If you aren’t in the seat beside me, we’re over.”

“We’re already over,” I say calmly. “Go home, Gabriel. I’m not coming back.”

With one more glance between Colson and me, Gabriel huffs and heads back down the driveway to his fancy rental car. Then he’s driving away just as fast as he came.

I exhale as Colson turns around to face me, his arms still crossed but his expression soft.

“Thanks for that,” I tell him. “And for not punching him.” As much as I would’ve liked to see Gabriel with a bloody nose, I know without a doubt a wicked lawsuit would’ve followed.

Colson tilts his head down. “Your ex?”

I huff a laugh. “That obvious?”

“Took him long enough,” is all he says as we turn, making our way inside the house. Colson sets his bag down beside the front door then heads to the kitchen sink to wash his hands.

I follow him, taking a seat on the kitchen island. “What do you mean?”

With his back to me, Colson shrugs. “It took him long enough to come looking for you.” He turns around, drying his hands on a tea towel. “If it were me, I would’ve never let you leave in the first place.”

I swallow roughly, my eyes locking with his. Heat rushes to my cheeks, the fire between us burning hot.

But it’s been a week since we kissed again, and he left in such a rush then that I’m not really sure where we stand. I told him after our first kiss that we shouldn’t do this, and nothing’s really changed between now and then.

So instead I say, “I’m really glad to see you. How’d things go out at the fire?”

Colson blows out a breath, and I can see the tension in his shoulders from here. “It’s bad, Red. It’s still not fully controlled, but BCWS finally sent out another team to give us some time to breathe. I have to head back out tomorrow.”

“How many hectares is it now?”

“Pushing eleven.”

I inhale sharply. “You look exhausted.”

“Yeah,” he says, rubbing a hand over his jaw.

I clear my throat. “Are you okay?”

Colson leans his arms against the counter and bows his head, shaking it as he recalls the events of the past few days. When he looks back up at me, he says, “I wasn’t, but I am now.”

My tongue darts out over my lips at that admission, but just as I’m about to stand to round the island and close the distance between us, Colson speaks again.

“Are you ever going to tell me the full story about what happened back home?”

Rolling my lips together, I let my head fall into my hands. I knew we’d have to talk about it eventually, but I’ve been avoiding it at every turn. “Do I have to?”

I don’t hear Colson move around the island until his hand touches my face, tilting my chin back up to look at him.

“No. But if the reason you don’t want to is because you’re scared of losing my trust, know that isn’t going to happen.

I read the articles, Holland. Every last one of them, and I’m still here. I’m not going anywhere.”

That statement shocks me. “You did?”

He nods. “I know those articles aren’t the full story. I’ve gotten to know you, Holland Rhodes, well enough to see past the rumours. I know you’re not who they say you are. You wouldn’t still be here if you were. ”

I swallow roughly, my eyes flashing to his lips. Then on an exhale, I tell him the truth.

“A few months before I moved here, I was investigating a senator who was suspected of being tied to some shady development deals in the Ottawa area. I had all the proof I needed to expose him, but right after the story went to the editor, it died. Instead, a fabricated story about this guy’s competitor was published, claiming he was the one involved in the dealings.

A story I had nothing to do with but had my name on it.