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But it wasn’t Darcy again.
And it wasn’t Sasha, either.
Ash.
Right. He had asked to see the guy but couldn’t help the bitter resentment that it was the sheriff and not the woman he wanted.
“What did you want to see me about?” Ash asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Uh…” He struggled to organize his jumbled thoughts into a semblance of sanity. “The fire. It was arson.”
Ash’s lips thinned, nearly disappearing under his beard, which was usually neat but now looked like it needed a weed-whacker to trim. “How do you know that?”
“Because I saw—” He stopped and glanced at the corner again. It was still empty, but now he was doubting himself. Could he trust anything he saw right now? Maybe he hadn’t actually seen the figure in the flames, watching everything burn. Maybe it was like Darcy. Not real.
“What did you see?” Ash prompted.
He started to shake his head, but the knife of pain through his skull put a quick end to that. He sucked in a sharp breath. “I don’t know. It might have been nothing, but I thought I saw someone in the barn with me.”
“If anyone was in that barn, they’re dead now.”
“No, he had on turnout gear.” Even as the words left his mouth, he knew how crazy they sounded.
Ash made an exasperated sound. “That was Tiago Jimenez. He happened to be driving by when your dumb ass ran back into a burning building, and Sasha flagged him down. He pulled you out of there.”
Had he?
Donovan tried to replay those long minutes trapped inside the barn, but it was all jagged images and blurs of movement. “No. No, that’s not right. I… I got myself out. I carried Spirit out.”
“Tiago carried Spirit out, then went back in after you when the roof collapsed.”
“No. That’s not what happened.” He tried to get up, but again, the one-two punch of pain and nausea had him sinking back into the bed. “Ash, I’m telling you. That’s not right.”
Ash narrowed his eyes. “You have a TBI and a concussion. Your memory is not reliable right now.”
Donovan gritted his teeth. He could trust his own memories. He had to trust them because without them, who was he? “I know what I saw, and it wasn’t Tiago coming to the rescue. Whoever it was, they were just standing there. They were watching the place burn. Enjoying it. I couldn’t see his face, but I know the bastard was smiling.”
Ash held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, fine. I’ll investigate and see if there is any evidence backing up your claim of arson.” Sorrow flickered in his eyes, there and gone in an instant. “But, Van, there’s already a shit-ton of trouble bearing down on you. Don’t make things worse for yourself by telling people that you see things that aren’t there.”
He wanted to argue, but the fight was draining out of him. The pain roaring in his head was getting to be too much. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe through it. When he opened his eyes again, he was relieved to see that the corner of his room was still empty.
But then he noticed something else. Sasha still hadn’t returned.
“Where’s Sasha?” he asked, panic tightening his chest.
“I sent her home,” Ash said.
“Why?”
Ash’s gaze was molten. “Why do you think? You’re poison, Donovan. You always have been. Don’t infect her, too.”
Donovan gritted his teeth. He was sick of people treating him like he was some kind of disease to be avoided. “You’re only saying that because you want her.”
“I’m saying it because she’s a friend, and I don’t want to see her dragged down into your dangerous bullshit.”
“My dangerous bullshit? I didn’t start the fire. I just ran into it to save my dog. And your sister’s pet projects.”
“You didn’t have to do that. You could’ve waited for help.”
