Defending Harlow (Mountain Mercenaries #4)(33)

Nolan Woolf glared at the two cars as they pulled out of the parking lot and headed down the dark, empty street. “Damn meat-headed bodyguard,” he mumbled under his breath. He was standing out of range of the stupid cameras the man and his friend had put up earlier that week. The conveniently busted lights on the far side of the building he owned kept him in the shadows, hidden.

He was so close to getting what he wanted, but the stupid bitch who owned the shelter was standing in his way. He’d hoped the men he’d hired to harass everyone going in and out of the building would be enough to scare her off. But so far it hadn’t worked.

And, in fact, it seemed to make things worse. Now he had to deal with the cameras and the assholes who’d begun to hang around, watching over the women. That hadn’t been in his plans at all.

He looked down at the can of gasoline in his hand and clenched his teeth.

This would work. It had to.

He wasn’t going to hurt anyone—he just needed to scare them. That would set his plan in motion again.

Nolan hadn’t trusted anyone else to do this for him. The punks he’d hired were good for intimidation, but he didn’t think they could keep their big mouths shut when it came to this. Besides, there was something thrilling about watching fire consume everything in its path.

Keeping to the shadows, Nolan walked away from the shelter. Then he quickly and quietly crossed the street and headed back the way he’d come, behind the tattoo parlor and the pawnshop. There were no cameras on this side of the street. He went down to the end of the block before arriving at his destination.

He pushed open the back door of the deserted gas station, which he’d left unlocked the night before, and entered the dark building. It smelled funky, like rotting milk, but he ignored the stench. It wouldn’t matter much longer anyway. He stacked a few boxes together and crumpled some random newspapers that were lying around. He doused the entire pile with gasoline, then placed the empty gas can outside the back door.

He wasn’t dumb enough to leave it at the scene of the crime. He had no doubt the cops and fire investigators would figure out the fire was deliberately set, but he wasn’t about to leave any evidence behind that might lead back to him.

Then, with an evil grin, Nolan struck a match.

He dropped it on the pile he’d made and sighed in satisfaction when the debris went up with a whoosh. Moving quickly, he eased out the back door, making sure to keep it cracked open to allow air to get inside to feed the fire. A lot of people who set fires made the mistake of not feeding them—of closing all the doors, maybe thinking that would keep the fire from being discovered too soon. But Nolan knew flames needed oxygen to flourish.

And flourish was exactly what his fire was doing. He backed away from the gas station, once more careful to keep to the shadows and away from the fucking cameras the assholes had put up. He had no idea how much of an area they covered.

He watched for as long as he could, until he heard sirens in the distance. By then, it was too late. The entire building was engulfed in flames, and the pumps were about to be overtaken. Nolan hoped there might be some gasoline left in the tanks underground. It would be awesome if those went up too.

Maybe the explosion would wake up the bitches inside the shelter. Maybe the kids would cry. They would definitely be scared. He was counting on it.





Chapter Ten

Black wasn’t happy. He’d spent most of the day at the women’s shelter answering questions and trying to keep everyone calm. Harlow had been amazing. She’d cooked nonstop, making sure the coffee was always fresh and keeping everyone’s bellies full as they fretted and worried.

The fire at the gas station had been exciting and scary for everyone. The kids had watched the fire trucks and emergency vehicles arrive from the shelter’s third-floor windows.

Black hadn’t learned about the explosion until after he’d arrived home the evening before. He’d felt his phone vibrating with messages, but didn’t want to answer since he was driving. The only reason he hadn’t lost his shit when he’d finally learned what was going on was because he’d just come from Harlow’s apartment complex, and knew she was safe and sound inside.

Rex and Meat were doing what they could to find answers as to how and why someone had set the gas station ablaze. The investigator hadn’t determined the origin yet, although he did confirm it was arson. His only other comment was that it was a good thing the gasoline tanks had been empty, because otherwise there would’ve been a possibility the fire could’ve spread across the street to the vacant building near the parking lot. And if the vacant building had gone up in flames, it was likely those would’ve spread to the occupied women’s shelter.

All of the residents at the shelter had been on edge, and Black had volunteered to hang around to reassure everyone they were safe. Of course, the main reason he’d chosen to take the first shift was currently fussing over the children, who’d just gotten home from school. The kids were still hyped up from the excitement the night before.

“Tell me the truth,” Loretta said quietly. “Are we in danger?”

Black and the owner of the shelter were standing off to the side in the common room. Most of the mothers were in the kitchen with their kids and Harlow, and the remaining residents were either still at their day jobs or somewhere else in the building.

“Honestly? I can’t really say one way or another,” Black told her. “Meat is still looking into the people who we think might have a beef with someone living here, but he hasn’t found anything that would point to one person definitively.”