Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Five

Anger pumped through Phillip as he made his way through town to Caulfield’s shop. He hadn’t seen Fyre since this morning but his rage hadn’t lessened. Not in the slightest. Taking two deep breaths before he walked in was the best he could do.

There was no one in the front and he didn’t even slow, just marched through to the door leading into the back. Tossing the door open, he paused as he watched Miss Asherford on her knees sucking Caulfield’s cock, her breasts hanging out of her shift, red lines over them, indicating they had been caned or something like that.

Caulfield blanched, a feat for a man who seemed allergic to the sun, and gulped. “What the hell are you doing, my lord? This is a private room.”

“I do not give a fuck who you are sticking your dick into as long as you stay away from my fiancée. And stop trying to fill her head with lies.”

The grin on Caulfield’s face was diabolical. Caulfield pumped his lean hips, driving his cock all the way into the woman’s face, his fisted hand holding her there as she choked and sputtered around him, but he didn’t allow her to move back.

“I only told her the truth. You want the access she gives you to the Blacks on the island.”

Did it matter that duels were outlawed in England? Phillip didn’t give a fuck.

“I want Fyre because I love her and she will make me a perfect countess. The fact it accomplishes you do not get her makes it all the more pleasing for me.”

A gasp came from behind him. He whipped around to see Fyre standing there, eyes wide as they looked at him then moved to the sight of Caulfield and Miss Asherford, whose face was turning a fiery shade of red.

“Fyre.”

“Leave me alone,” she snapped. “Both of you.” She stepped away from his touch. “And for Christ’s sake, Mr. Caulfield, let her breathe.” Fyre bolted.

Phillip turned and went after her but damn, she was lightning-fast. When he reached the front door, she was gone. Nowhere in sight. The heat of the day blistered down and he didn’t even see puffs of dust indicating where she had headed.

“Fire! Fire! The fields are burning!”

The chilling cry reached him and he was moving to his horse right away. He rode toward the cries and found a smaller farm on the other side of the town from his property had a burning field.

He hopped off his mount and jumped in to help try to save what they could. As he got into the motion of the shoveling, he thought about Fyre’s concerns and realized she’d had a valid point. Something he hadn’t even considered.

Where he lived held some harsh memories for a lot of the people on the island. And she was an anomaly, an amazing one, but for a woman doing the work she did, again, he’d looked beyond what doing those things would be like for her.

Christ, he was an idiot.

Add into that a sneaky bastard dropping these lines in her ear about how he was just trying to build up his empire no matter the cost. Apparently that could mean sleeping with her while he was supposed to want a woman like Miss Asherford.

And while that couldn’t be further from the truth, he couldn’t deny how Fyre could see things. He had some damage control to take care of, after this.

* * * *

It wasn’t until later in the afternoon, when they were good with the containment of the blaze, that he stopped working with those who’d come help fight the fire. It was Mr. Colton, a Black man who he had not had at his party but realized he needed to include in the alliance. This island could be a force to be reckoned with if they worked together. Accepting the ladle of water offered, Phillip thought about how he was going to do another gathering, with everyone this time.

“Thank you, my lord.”

“Glad we got it stopped and you are welcome. When you have some time next week, I would love the chance to speak with you about your farm.”

“I am not selling, my lord. I know there was a fire, but this is all my family has.”

He understood the mistrust. “I am not looking to buy you out, Mr. Colton. I want to discuss with you what I have talked to others about. Choice is yours of course. I have to get home. Let me know if you need anything.”

Phillip found his horse had been looked after as well. He swung up into the saddle and wiped off his forehead before he touched his heels to his gelding and moved out.

As he reached town again, he saw James bent at the waist, sucking in air.

“James?”

“My lord.” He gestured around. “Bad. Very bad.”

Phillip looked around and shrugged, not quite sure what James was talking about. Off in the distance, he saw dark clouds gathering, but the rain was too far away to be of use in dousing the heat they were suffering from.

“Are you okay, James?”

“Yes, my lord. I will be. Running messages.”

“What kind of messages?”

He shrugged. “Not sure. I do not read them, I just run them.”

“Who are you running them for?”

“Mr. Olden.”

Shifting in the saddle, Phillip didn’t look in the direction of the man’s sweet shop. “To whom?”

“A shack. I do not know who. I leave them and pick up the message that is waiting.”

Alarm bells rang in his head.

“Where is the shack?”

James’ description of the location was close to where he had been and he figured it may be the same place. Digging in his pocket, he pulled out some coins and tossed them to the boy. “Get a drink.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

He didn’t move until the boy had headed off again. Around him wind swirled, reminding him that it was still hot and dry out.

With a groan and an exhausted body, he nudged his mount toward home. Even so, he still swung by Fyre’s, needing to see her and talk to her again. He had to explain his comment at Caulfield’s to her. But the place was empty, no sign of her at all.

Phillip frowned as the acrid scent of smoke reached his nose on the winds that had been steadily increasing. While there were storm clouds in view, there were all out to sea.

It was dry and crops were suffering. So were the people. His horse snorted and sidestepped.

Without much conscious thought, he brought his mount back under control. He gazed around, unease skipping up his spine.

Something was wrong.

Setting his heels to his gelding, he thundered up the road, and realized as he got closer to Hawk’s Cove that the smoke grew infinitely worse.

Keating stood on the porch, issuing orders to all as people worried about.

Phillip jumped off before his horse had fully stopped. “Keating?”

“Crops are burning, my lord. The men are doing what they can but…”

Phillip bit his lower lip, not at all pleased with this. “Where is Fyre?”

Keating shook his head. “We’ve not seen her all day, since she stopped by after you.” He pointed a maid in a direction. “She was not here long, then left.”

His gut rolled. “Find her. I am going to the fields.”

“My lord.”

He shook his head, refusing to budge the slightest bit on this. “Keating. Find her. She is my everything. Make sure everyone is ready to leave if the wind shifts. Everyone.”

“My lord, she will not listen to me.” A wave of shame crossed his features. “She does not trust me.”

Possessiveness hit him but he had no time for postulating. “Are you one of those betraying me?”

Keating looked positively disgusted by the possibility. “Absolutely not, my lord.”

“Then find her. I have to help the men. Keep her safe.” With that, he swung back into the saddle.

He leaned forward over the horse’s muscular neck, urging the creature onward. Men ran, sweating and hauling water as fast as they could. Some were digging. It was organized chaos. Same as before, he was off before the horse fully stopped. Philip tossed the reins to Amand, one of his workers, and strode toward Everett, the man who oversaw the workers.

“Where do you need me?”

Everett finished speaking with another and wiped the sweat from his face, smearing the soot on his dark skin.

“We are losing the far field.” A coughing spell for a moment before he got himself back under control. “I pulled the men to try and save the other field. It was my choice not—”

“I put you in charge because I trust you.” Phillip realized these words were true. These people were becoming his family. “You would not let it burn for no reason. Are we sure everyone is out of that area?”

Everett nodded. “I sent Otis to double-check.”

“Good. Now, where do you want me?” Everett had a horrified expression on his face. “You know better than I, Everett. I just arrived. You have doled out resources. That is what I am. A resource. Use me.”

A moment’s pause.

“There.” He pointed off to the left. “Bernie is heading the trench digging. We hope to stop the flames from jumping.”

“Got it.”

Long strides took him there and he skimmed the area for Bernie, heading to him the moment he located him.

Sooner rather than later he was once again drenched in sweat as he worked beside his men, and this time the land they fought to save was his own.

* * * *

It hurt to breathe.

Fyre tried to gather some moisture in her mouth but she wasn’t able to do so. And she couldn’t call out for she had been gagged. She struggled, but that didn’t do anything for her.

How the hell did she get here? Why was she stuck out in one of the fields? God, her mind was so muddled. Her head ached and her mouth was dry. Sure, the scratchy burlap shoved in her mouth wasn’t helping any. The last thing she remembered was leaving Phillip after overhearing him and Mr. Caulfield.

God, had she gone from one hellish situation directly into another? Considering her plight… Yes, the answer would most definitely be yes.

Someone walked up beside her, she could hear the crunching of their boots against the ground. The covering on her eyes was removed and she blinked to take in Cara standing over her.

Hatred completely engulfed her sister-in-law’s features.

“You are such a pain in the ass.”

Unable to speak, Fyre just waited for her sister-in-law to continue. Behind her, blackness began to cover the sun and fear struck her. She knew those weren’t clouds. That was smoke. Which meant something near was burning. And a lot of it.

Memories burst to life as fear took root and held with the force of the sea. Fire. Smoke. Open flames. She’d nearly died from this before when she was a child. It had been a miracle all she had left from that were the nightmares and scars.

Not just the smell, she could hear it. The living, breathing flame. The crackle as it ate anything and everything in its path, insatiable.

Panic grew in her chest, lodging there and making it more difficult for her to catch her breath. Her skin flushed and grew increasingly sweaty. Sure, it could be from the rapidly increasing heat, but she was positive the sweat was from her approaching panic. The tightness in her chest grew with the oxygen fading. She wriggled her fingers and toes, trying to stave off the tingling.

How will I get out of this?

She tried to smack her lips around the sack wedged in her mouth. The air tasted of ash.

“You should have stayed away from the earl.” Cara shook her head. “You are not fit to be in his place, at his side. We were born to serve.”

“We were born to serve”? What was wrong with Cara?

Fyre shook her head and struggled to get into a seated position. Chest aching, she knew wherever the blaze was, it was now heading in their direction.

“I was going to have the life I wanted. Money. Sex. Power.” A grimace. “Then you had to turn his head.” She jabbed a finger at Fyre. “Your fault. We will not be able to move people to sell into slavery if you and he are on the same team.”

This had to be a dream. Or a nightmare. Surely she wasn’t sitting on the ground in the middle of a crop field, listening to her sister-in-law talking about selling people into slavery.

Her laugh bordered on maniacal. “You think you knew me? I want sex and power. Being on the inside will get me that. I have no desire to run the world like you do. I know my place, but I also know what I provide. Young people to those who can pay.”

Disgust churned Fyre’s gut.

“Yes, I sleep around for money. I let old men fuck me and they pay me well for it. I do things for them their own wives will not. Let me tell you when it is dark, or light, they do not care what the color of my skin is. I am the star, the center of attention.”

“You are a whore,” Fyre muttered from behind the gag.

Cara leaned close and ran a finger along the top of Fyre’s cleavage. “I even sleep with women.” Cara lifted up the chain with Phillip’s ring on it that Fyre currently wore around her neck. A low growl slid from Cara’s lips seconds before she yanked it off her. “You, however, are too much of an issue. I will do what I can to make sure you are going to be found. Well, maybe. I put you in the path of the fire. It should be here soon.”

Another man walked into view and Fyre drew back at the sight of Mr. Olden. She watched the two of them kiss and Cara grabbed his crotch. Revolted, Fyre turned her head.

“Get on your knees,” the man snarled.

Fyre didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to see or hear any of this. Cara listened right away and, from where she sat, Fyre could see a gleam of excitement in her eye.

“Take me out.” Mr. Olden settled his feet a bit wider apart.

Struggling to her knees, Fyre moved slowly as Cara listened to the man Fyre used to work for. A man she had seen sleeping with another married woman.

It took her a moment or two to gather her breath—the thickening smoke made it harder. She tried to slow her heart rate as she got ready to lurch to her feet and run.

She stole another glance at the two there. Cara sucked his cock and Mr. Olden had his head tipped back as he enjoyed it. This was her chance. Pushing up, she wobbled a bit but took off, running toward the flames because the other way would take her by the couple.

“Hey!” It sounded like Mr. Olden’s voice but with her heart thundering in her ears, she couldn’t be sure.

Fyre looked over her shoulder in time to see Mr. Olden put a bullet in Cara’s head as she knelt before him, his cock still in her mouth. A sob escaped. Even though the woman had been evil, she hadn’t deserved that. No one did. Fyre plunged forward, desperate to get away.

The bark of a gun was the last thing she heard as she sank back to the ground, her head on fire.

“Phillip,” she mumbled behind the gag, before her eyes closed.

* * * *

“My lord!”

Phillip looked up to see Keating in a carriage, Davie driving and controlling the horses, who definitely were not fans of the fire.

Readjusting the cloth over his mouth, Phillip hurried to them. “Did you find her?” He didn’t like the concern he saw in the butler’s expression. “Keating, what are you not telling me?”

“We saw Mr. Olden in town. Davie did.”

“And?”

Keating held up the chain with the ring on it. Phillip’s heart stopped.

“I saw it and demanded to know where he got it, but he spat in my face.” Davie shook his head. “I tried, my lord.”

Phillip’s hand shook as he took the ring. Fyre would not have given it to that man, which meant she was in trouble. He had to get to her.

“Keating, as soon as this barrier is ready, get the men out of here. The winds have shifted. The flames will be heading back to the house. Get everyone to safety, to town. Find rooms for them. I will pay for it all.”

“Where are you going, my lord?”

“To find my woman.”

He ran to where his horse was tied up and, instead of putting the saddle back on, he freed him. After that, he grabbed fistfuls of mane and swung up onto his back.

A wry grin lifted his lips as he thought about learning how to mount without a saddle. Ciara had taught him.

He’d never truly believed this would ever come in useful.

But it had.

The gelding, happy to be moving away from the fire, listened to him and ran his heart out. They thundered into town and he sawed back on the reins, bringing the horse to a stop before Mr. Olden’s shop. He slid off the sweaty animal. Barely slowing at the door, he kicked it open and stormed inside.

The man was in the back, shoving money into a bag, when Phillip pushed into the room.

“Where is she?”

Phillip didn’t even give him a second to answer before he was over the desk and had the man against the wall, his arm along Olden’s throat.

“I will not ask again. Tell me where you took this from her.”

“Maybe she was with another man? Caulfield? Someone else. Who knows. Their kind are whores, sleeping with anyone.” Beyond the hatred and defiance in the man’s gaze, he saw fear that lingered in the back. And Phillip decided the fear needed to be in the front.

His own uncertainty of what could be happening to Fyre right now churned his gut. His heart raced with no signs of slowing. Beads of sweat had gathered on his head and dotted the top of his lip, mixing with the day’s growth.

Phillip knew he would do whatever it took to find her. If it meant allowing this entire island to burn, then so be it. Fyre was his priority.