Chapter 33
THIRTY-THREE
Ramsey
“What’s this?” I ask as I walk out onto the back deck to see Bo jumping out of his truck. I can see my bike in the back, and she looks like she’s gotten a bit of a detail job in addition to whatever work they did on her.
“What’s it look like, jackass?” Bo calls back.
“I didn’t realize it was ready yet. You didn’t have to bring it over.”
“Well, technically, I am still your brother. I figured for the time being you still get the family discount and the door-to-door service,” he answers as he pulls the tailgate open.
I hurry down to meet him as he pulls the ramp he’s got in the back of the truck out. Once he’s got it fixed, I climb into the bed, help him undo the bike from its restraints, and walk it down.
“Thanks for this.”
“Sure thing. Where do you want it? ”
“Uh. We can probably put it in the pole barn.”
He walks with me as we get the bike moved, but when he goes to open the pole barn door, he stops short. He looks back at me, brow furrowed, and motions for me to stay quiet and come to him. I put the kickstand down, abandoning the bike, and walk toward the pole barn, giving him a confused look as I make my way over.
When I get to the door, I hear the sound of something rustling around inside, furniture shifting and scrapes across the floor.
“It’s probably just an animal,” I say in a low whisper. The place wasn’t exactly as airtight as it should be, and it wouldn’t be unheard of. His frown gets heavier, and he shakes his head, pointing for me to listen. Then I hear it—the low sound of a man’s voice talking to someone on the other side of the building.
I rack my brain for who it could be. Kell and Elliot are both in the bunkhouse; I already saw them duck in for the night after talking about going into town for a drink later. None of the guests from the inn would have wandered out this far, that I know of, and none of the boarders renting space would be here this late, even if they got confused about the barns.
My frown matches Bo’s now as we listen to try to hear what they’re saying.
“Look over there,” I hear him say.
“Can’t see shit without a light,” another guy answers louder, and he’s much closer to where we’re standing.
“Shut the fuck up,” the other hisses.
All the hairs stand up on the back of my neck, and I flex my fists as Bo and I exchange looks of understanding. He nods for me to take one side of the door, and he takes the other. We do a silent count, and then he moves in before me. We walk slowly around the edges of the room, and I make my way to the left, looking for the barn gun I saw in here the other day and praying it’s still loaded if I need it.
I watch Bo disappear behind a large, old bookshelf, and I crouch when I hear the guys talk again. He wasn’t kidding about not being able to see. Without the overhead lights on, it’s damn near impossible. The only ambient light is coming from the far door, where the earliest rays of moonlight are barely creeping in to illuminate the space.
When I step forward to get a better look around the room, I hear the scurry of a mouse under my feet. The skittering attracts their attention, and I see one of their shadows freeze.
“The fuck was that?” Number Two whispers again.
“Probably a bird or a mouse. It’s a barn,” Number One growls low, still annoyed that his partner won’t shut up.
There’s the sound of footsteps again, moving in my direction, and I reach my hand up on the desk, feeling around for the gun. It rustles the heavy furniture cover that’s draped over it, and I hold my breath, waiting to hear if they heard it, and letting out a sigh of relief when I hear them continue to talk.
I feel around one more time, and finally, my palm collides with the buttstock. I wrap my hand around it—and thankfully, just in time.
“Hey, asshole!” I hear Bo call out, and a second later, there’s a loud smack and a groan followed by the sound of a body collapsing against the floor.
“What the fuck? Shane?” Number One calls out for Number Two, and there’s only another muted groan in response. “Who’s there?” he calls out, the anxiety reverberating through his words. They didn’t anticipate being found.
Number One steps out of his corner, and he’s illuminated by the door. I can see his silhouette aiming his gun wildly, trying to find the source of the noise .
“Put the gun down,” I call. Grabbing the gun off the desk and aiming it in his direction.
“Fat fucking chance of that, you prick,” Number One returns. “Go fuck yourself.”
“You first.” I hear another sound, like a blunt instrument against flesh, and this time, I hear the distinct sound of metal clattering across the concrete floor. I see Bo’s silhouette next to the other man, and the gun is missing from his hand.
They both drop to the floor a moment later, scattering to find it in the darkness and tussling with one another in the process. I pull myself out of my hiding spot and run over, hitting the guy on the back of the head and forcing him back to his knees.
“Let it go, or you’ll get one in your head.” I’m desperately hoping I can make good on that promise.
“What are you doing here?” Bo asks the guy, grabbing him by his collar.
“I’m not telling you shit.” He spits on the ground and shoves back at Bo. It elicits another smack on the back of his head from me, which he meets with disdain. Something about his voice hits me as familiar, and I’m racking my brain as I hit him again with the buttstock of the gun.
“You’ll fucking do what he—” Before I can finish my sentence, I feel the searing heat of pain across my cheek and face. It’s like being hit with a tackle with no helmet. So painful that I drop to my knees.
Bo turns to me, trying to make out what happened to me in the dark. The guy he’s holding hostage takes advantage of his distraction and shoves him so hard he falls back against the bookshelf. I grip the gun tightly. It’s the one thing I can’t afford to let go of as I try to clear the pain and my mind to refocus my attention back on the situation.
“The door. Let’s go!” the second guy yells to the first, grabbing his shoulder and shoving him forward as he looks between us, before he turns to run. They race for the door, but they’re slowed by the maze of furniture and tripping hazards that are in here in the dark. One of them hits his knee and screams out in pain as he tries to run on it.
“Ramsey?” Bo calls to me to make sure I’m okay.
“I’m fine. I’m coming. Go!” I yell to him to get a head start, and he takes off after the intruders. I climb back to my feet, setting the gun down, and rub the side of my cheek; it feels tender where he hit me, but I don’t feel any blood. I roll my shoulders as I step over the furniture, and then I take off after Bo as soon as my feet are under me again.
The light out in the field is only slightly better, illuminating the silhouettes of the guys as they race across it. Bo is on their heels, but he’s not in the same shape he was when we were kids playing ball, and while he can more than pace them, it’s not enough to catch them. I reach him, but the guys are over the far fence where they’ve left a car, and they tear off in it across the field.
We watch as they disappear over the horizon as we catch our breath.
“What the fuck was that?” Bo asks, leaning over with his hands on his knees.
I stretch my neck, running my fingers over my cheek once again to make sure I’m still not bleeding.
“Fuck if I know.” I take a deep breath of the night air. Prison made me soft, I guess. Not enough time sprinting down a field, and I’m out of shape. I need a lot of time back with a trainer if I’m going to run for a living again.
“Do you think they’re headed toward the casino?” Bo breaks through my existential crisis as we watch the car speeding in the direction of The Avarice. It’s the only thing in that direction off the property, but it’s also the easiest way to get back to civilization if you can’t go out through our front drive.
“I don’t know. It seems like that’s how they came on to the ranch. There are a couple of gates out that way, I guess.”
“No cameras on them?” He looks at me.
“There might be one. I’d have to ask Haze. I don’t know what she kept of my parents’.” Given the business my parents were in, we’d originally had a lot of cameras on the property, but Hazel preferred privacy over technology.
“Back to the house then, I guess.” He stretches out his back, rubbing a palm across his chest as if it’ll ease his lungs.
“I need a fucking beer after that. That’s for sure.”
Once we get back to the house, Bo and I stand out on the back porch, sipping our beers and enjoying the crisp night air. It’s that time of year now when the temps drop low at night, even if they still manage to get reasonably warm in the daytime. Without a beer or a jacket to keep you warm, the chill runs down your spine and tunnels through your bones until its deep inside. The kind you can’t shake, a bit like the worry I have tonight after what’s unfolded. The blood’s still drying on my knuckles, and I’m studying the pattern of it when Bo finally sits up straighter.
“I have a bad feeling,” he says, staring at the pole barn in the distance that we’d found the intruders in.
“About them?”
“That’s the same place I saw Curtis.”
“That barn?” I guess I never did clarify. I’d just assumed it was the garage they park most of the cars in. “I thought you meant the garage that’s attached.”
“No. That one.” His brows lift in question, wondering if I’m as worried as he is. I let out a long breath and take another sip of my beer. Definitely a bad feeling or two.
The barn we found the guys in really only has my and my parents’ things in it. They used it for extra storage when they were alive, and when they died, and Hazel and I took over the house, we moved most of their things out there. Then when I left, I’d followed suit. It’s essentially the Stockton family heirloom and furniture graveyard, but no one outside the family knows that either.
“Fucking weird that they’d pick that one and not one of the others,” I mutter.
“Right? If they were just off the street snooping around, you’d think they’d go for the stables where they’d know they might find some stuff of value.”
“Right,” I agree.
“This is what I mean… So much of this stuff happening has been weird as fuck. I can’t put my finger on it, but I don’t like it.” He shakes his head and downs another sip of his beer.
“Yeah. The one guy’s voice. It sounded almost familiar, but I have no idea where—” I stop dead in my tracks because it hits me. His voice sounded like one of the guys from the other night at Seven Sins. The ones my brother had sent to the casino.
“What?” Bo asks, clearly realizing I was coming to terms with something.
“One of the guys. I think he might have been in Seven Sins the other night.”
“What makes you think that?”
“He got into it with Dakota. She said he was asking a lot of questions, and she didn’t like his attitude. It nearly came to blows. Her other bartender said they’d asked about the ranch.”
“That’s not fucking good.” Bo states the obvious; his face clouded with concern.
“No. It’s not. What’s weird is that my brother chased him off and sent him to The Avarice. Then he headed back that way… might not be a coincidence.”
“Sounds like you and your brothers need to have a chat.”
“Yeah. I think that’s what I’ll be doing first thing tomorrow.”
I’m not leaving this ranch until I get to the bottom of what’s happening. No way am I letting Hazel stay here alone or, worse yet, with Curtis until I had answers. And my brothers are going to cooperate with my investigation, whether they like it or not.