Page 53 of Ink and Ashes
“A newspaper?” I state, despite knowing that’s not what he’s asking—he’s just so fun to piss off.
He takes a step toward me, his eyes rolling. “You know damn well I’m not referring to the fucking newspaper. I’m referring to what’sinthe fucking newspaper.” He unfolds it and shoves it in my face, showing me the article. “What the fuck isthis, Rhodes?”
“It’s an article I wrote.”
“An article you wrote,” he states. It’s not a question.
“Yeah, see.” I point to my name in the by-line. “That’s me. Holland Rhodes.”
“Except that’s not your real name, is it?” he mutters, his jaw flexing. I swear I see smoke coming out of his ears.
I roll my eyes, unafraid of his threats to tell people who I am. If he wanted to, he would’ve by now. Besides, short of the arsonist settingmeon fire, there’s not much anyone will be able to do to make me leave. Not at this point in the game.
He continues to stare me down, as if the weight of his gaze will get me to crack. Biting my lip, I try to fight the urge to smile.
I fail.
“You think this is funny?” He takes another step closer.
My expression shifts from humour to frustration. “No, I think it’s quite the opposite, actually. My article was serious. What’s funny is you coming here, intomyspace, and getting angry with me for writing what everyone else in this town has refused to say.”
He scoffs. “You can’t be serious with this shit, Rhodes.”
I shrug. “I am. The town needs to be informed of the possibility that someone is setting these fires on purpose.”
“That wasn’t up to you to decide!” His breathing is heavy, the tension between us thick. “Do you know what kind of chaos this is going to cause? You’re going to create an uproar. We were trying to keep this under wraps until we knew more. Until you foundactualevidence. This”—he holds the paper up between us—“isn’t going to help.”
Despite writing in the article that I didn’t want to cause paranoia, I knew exactly what it would do. Maybe I should feel guilty for publishing it anyway, but it was my best chance at finally getting through to people—getting them to take me,this, seriously.
He’s silent for a moment before he adds, “Write a retraction.”
I swipe my tongue over my lips, shaking my head. “I’m not going to do that.”
“Why the fuck not? This isn’thelpinganything.”
He slams the newspaper down on the bed and then runs a hand through his hair, anxiety flowing off him in waves. His whole body vibrates with frustration and resentment towardme. This article is definitely getting his attention, but it’s also having a worse effect on him than I expected.
It almost makes me feel guilty enough to do what he’s asking, but I also know that it won’t do anybody any good, even if he thinks it would.
“It’s all speculation at this point anyway,” Colson continues. “My arguments that they could be coincidental still stand. You don’t have any real proof, so why would you go out of your way to create panic based on atheory?”
I open my mouth to tell him that Dom and I found two more candle wick tabs at the scene of fire number six, but he cuts me off before I have a chance.
“I’ve heard enough of it to believe that you are onto something, but without evidence, we can’t prove anything. As it stands, all this article does is show me that you’re here to benefit yourself likeI’ve assumed all along. If you really wanted to help the town, you wouldn’t have published this.”
I flinch as his words land. Maybe he’s right. But I can’t take it back now, and I still stand by the fact that this article will get people’s attention.
“I may have come to escape some things, but I chose Ember Grove for a reason. What’s going on here isn’t normal. You can continue to deny it all you want, but regardless of whether I was out of line publishing this article or not doesn’t change the fact that this is arson. And I’m not going to stop until I find out who’s doing it.”
I grab my files about the investigation off the bedside table, then make my way back over to where Colson stands and hand them to him. “Please just take a look at these, and talk to Dom. I know you don’t trust me, but separate me from the investigation and then tell me you still don’t think there’s an arsonist.”
His jaw clenches, but he takes the files anyway.
I let out a sigh and then add, “I’m sorry if the article causes problems for you. I know it was risky, but it was a risk I was willing to take if it meant finally getting the town to listen to me. And despite what you say, it will do that. I can tell you with the utmost confidence that I’m not the only person who believes this to be arson, and I think this will make other people question it too.”
“It could also scare whoever the hell you think it is into hiding.”
I shift my weight from one foot to the other. “I considered that possibility, but between the email I got and the threatening note on my car, I have a feeling the arsonist is only going to get bolder.”
