Page 116 of Burning For You

Both Tate and Keegan had put some time in on this house also.

The last to come running in were Jim and Carrie.

They all knew and were thinking the same as him.

His heart slammed into his ribs.

He crossed the distance without really thinking, his boots crunching over debris, every step pulling him closer until Skye finally turned and saw him.

But another figure caught his sight first.

Alan. Standing there looking on. This time with his retired father and uncle next to him. As if he needed support to prove that the brotherhood stood together for times like this.

Alan would be questioned again, but maybe he’d hoped it wouldn’t come tonight.

Dickhead couldn’t even stay home after this morning.

Especially knowing who owned this property.

“Ash,” she said, his name barely more than a breath.

He stopped in front of her, close enough to feel the tremor she was trying to hide. “Are you okay?”

She nodded, once. “That was going to be my question to you.”

“I’m fine. You can see it yourself.”

Corbin shifted, meeting Ash’s gaze. “This wasn’t random.”

“No,” he said flatly. “It wasn’t.”

It couldn’t have been. There was absolutely nothing in that shell of a house that could have started the fire. No wiring yet. Zero tools. It was wood and wood only.

Tate exhaled through his nose, slow and controlled. “I heard the fire inspector will confirm it, but”—his jaw tightened—“this was intentional. We know it.”

Keegan’s eyes never left the wreckage. “Message heard loud and clear. I know I’m not the only one thinking that.”

Keegan’s gaze turned to Alan.

“Don’t do anything,” Ash said to Keegan. “I had a run-in with him today. There are eyes on him and coming here tonight is either smart and calculated or stupid as fuck.”

“Cocky,” Corbin said. “That’s what it is.”

That was crossing his mind too, but he had to tell himself to not let his emotions get in the way.

But it sure was hard when he turned back to the woman he was losing his heart to again surrounded by her family.

The family he’d been accepted into years ago.

It felt like it was a shot at him also and he never backed away from a fight.

Watching the Lancasters cluster together in the glow of the fire, knowing he’d aimed true and struck dead center, made every second of waiting worth it. Weeks of restraint. Weeks of simmering. All paid off in that single, perfect moment.

The rush of moving so fast to strike again, this time in their space, was intoxicating. Funny how inspiration came from the unlikeliest places. A careless teenager trying to make a statement handing over the best next step for him.

He’d walked straight up to the porch, deliberate, calm, like he had all the time in the world. And he did because there wasn’t a soul around on the street.

It was empty, the first home being built.