Page 129 of Downpour

Another shot went off as CJ’s boot connected with Nick’s jaw. He went limp. The bullet slammed into something metallic.

CJ crawled off Nick, then froze. We all heard it at the same time.

A slow, unsettling hiss.

“Get out!” CJ shouted.

The ranch hands that had gone into the lodge bolted out into the pasture as glass exploded from the windows in a hailstorm.

Ray grabbed me, pulled me across his lap, and tucked me under his stomach, hunching down as orange flames billowed out of the lodge.

The whoosh and crackle of flames bigger than the bonfire lit up the night sky. The ranch came alive as everyone jumped into action.

“Here,” Ray shouted to CJ as he tossed him the rope he had been working with. “Tie him up and get back.”

CJ caught the rope and had Nick trussed like a turkey in seconds.

“The lodge is on fire,” I whispered as reality set in.

My roommates had done this.

They did it—for whatever reason—because of me.

Christian’s truck growled as he came to a screeching halt next to a picturesque pond and started unloading a pump and hoses. I could hear someone talking on the phone to a 911 operator as the fire ate up the future of the ranch.

Everything went numb. “This is all my fault.”

31

RAY

Smoke hissed from the charred corner of the lodge as firefighters and ranch hands worked to get water on the structure. My brother had hauled down the pump they used for wildfires to keep the blaze at bay until emergency services could arrive.

The worst of it was contained to a section that connected the lodge to the restaurant.

The bullet had slammed into an acetylene welding tank and made it explode. The blast traveled along the path of least resistance, blowing out the windows and licking up the lumber.

Brooke was stiff in my arms, staring blankly at the flurry of activity.

“Baby, it’s not your fault,” I murmured into her hair as I gently rubbed my hand up and down her back.

Blue lights flashed across the sky as Nick and Chandler, her former roommates, were shoved into separate police cars.

“Everyone’s okay,” I said softly. “It’s gonna be fine.”

At least I hoped it would be fine. Cassandra was pacing close to the bunkhouse to get enough bars on her cell to makeemergency calls to the investors forking out the money for the lodge and restaurant.

I cupped Brooke’s cheek. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I brought them here,” she whispered. “If I hadn’t taken this job they wouldn’t have come. They wouldn’t have stolen equipment from the construction site. They wouldn’t have broken into your house. They wouldn’t have been here tonight.” She cupped her hand over her mouth. “CJ… He—he almost got shot.”

“But he didn’t. He didn’t, okay? He’s just fine.”

“Nick had a gun,” she whispered. “I’ve never seen him with a gun.”

A body approached, striding through the grass with purpose. A badge glinted on his chest. “Sir. Ma’am,” he said.

Brooke wiped her cheeks and looked up at the cop who had taken our initial statements.

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