Chapter 14 #3
Her head snaps up. “What about them?”
“Did you read them?” he asks.
“Yes,” she says, her voice hard. “I read every single contract. Every lease. Every dollar Anthony gave you three.”
Knox stops eating. I lower my burger. This is it. The explosion we’ve been waiting for.
“And?” Rhett prompts.
“And it’s a joke.” She sounds pissed. “He gave you the land for a dollar. A dollar. He let you build houses. He let you run the ranch. He trusted you with everything.”
She looks from Rhett to me, her eyes blazing. “He never trusted me. He told me I was incompetent. He told me I would run this place into the ground. All the while, he was handing it over to you.”
“Saramaria,” Rhett says, leaning forward. “He didn’t hand it over. He leased it. We work for it. We maintain it. We kept it alive when he couldn’t.”
“You kept it for yourselves!” she shouts. “You built equity. You built lives. What did I get? A pile of debts and a house that smells like mildew.”
“Is that what this is about?” I ask, unable to stay silent. “The fire? The burning? You’re angry because he helped us?”
“I’m angry because he lied to me!” she yells, slamming her hand on the table. “He made me feel guilty for leaving. He made me feel like a traitor. But he replaced me! He found a new pack. A better pack. One that wasn’t broken. One that wasn’t an Omega.”
She spits the word out like it’s poison.
Rhett sits back, his face calm. He doesn’t react to the outburst. He just watches her.
“He didn’t replace you,” Rhett says. “He filled a void. You left, Saramaria. You ran away and didn’t look back for eight years. What was he supposed to do? Die alone in that big house?”
“He had me!” she cries. “I was his granddaughter! I was his blood!”
“But you weren’t here,” I say, the words blunt and harsh. “We were.”
She glares at me. Tears well up in her eyes, but she blinks them away angrily. “I had to leave. You don’t know what it was like. You don’t know what he said to me.”
“Then tell us,” Rhett says.
She shakes her head. “No. I don’t owe you an explanation. I don’t owe you anything. This is my house. My land. And I want you out.”
She stands up, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. “Eat your food. Sleep in my house. But don’t think this changes anything. As soon as this storm passes, I’m going to find a way to break those leases if it’s the last thing I do.”
She turns and storms down the hallway, disappearing into her bedroom. The door slams shut with a finality that echoes through the house.
Silence falls over the living room. The fire crackles. Outside, the wind begins to howl in earnest, rattling the windowpanes.
Knox lets out a long breath. “Well. That went well.”
I look at Rhett. “You were going to talk to her?”
Rhett rubs his temples. “I tried.”
“She’s not listening,” I say, finishing my burger. I crumple the foil wrapper and toss it onto my plate. “She’s too far gone. She sees us as the enemy.”
“We are the enemy,” Knox points out. “From her perspective, we’re squatters who stole her inheritance.”
“We didn’t steal anything,” I say. “We earned it.”
“Tell that to her,” Knox says.
Rhett stands up. He walks over to the window, looking out at the darkness. “She’s hurting. That much is clear. This isn’t just about business. It’s personal.”
“It’s always personal with her,” I mutter. “Everything is a fight.”
“She’s scared,” Rhett says. “She’s feels backed into a corner.”
“She backed herself into it,” I say.
Rhett turns to look at me. “Did she? Or did Anthony do that to her?”
I don’t have an answer for that.
A loud crack of thunder shakes the house. The lights flicker once, twice, and then die. We’re plunged into darkness, illuminated only by the orange glow of the fire and the occasional flash of lightning outside.
“Great,” Knox says. “Power’s out.”
“The wood stove will keep the kitchen warm,” I say, standing up. “I’ll check the doors. Make sure they’re latched.”
“I’ll get more wood,” Knox says, his eyes adjusting to the dim light. “If we’re stuck here, we’re going to need a lot of it.”
Rhett nods. “I’ll check on her.”
“Don’t,” I say automatically. “She doesn’t want to see you.”
“She shouldn’t be alone in the dark,” Rhett says. “Not in this mood. If she hurts herself...”
He doesn’t finish the sentence. He doesn’t have to. We all remember the splinter. The fall in the culvert.
“Fine,” I say. “But wear a cup.”
Rhett gives me a wry smile and heads down the hall.
I walk to the front door, checking the lock. It’s secure. I move to the windows, checking the latches. The wind is screaming now, a high-pitched whine that sounds like a train whistle.
The storm is here.
I stand by the window for a moment, looking out at the yard. I can barely see the bonfire pit now, just a faint orange glow in the rain that has started to fall. The bike is covered in a tarp Knox threw over it.
We are trapped. All four of us. Locked in this house with a history of resentment and a future of uncertainty.
I walk back to the fireplace. Knox is stoking the flames, adding a new log.
“She’s going to burn the house down with us in it,” I say, sinking into the armchair.
“Maybe,” Knox says, sitting back on the floor, his back against the sofa. “But at least we’ll die warm.”
I can’t help it. I laugh. It’s a short, humorless sound, but it breaks the tension.
“Rhett’s right,” I say after a minute. “She’s scared.”
“Aren’t we all?” Knox asks, looking up at the ceiling. “If the circuit folds... I don’t know what I’ll do, Boone. This ranch is the only thing keeping me sane.”
“We’ll figure it out,” I say, repeating the lie I told myself earlier. “We always do.”
“Yeah,” Knox says. “But for now, we survive the night.”
Down the hall, I hear voices. Rhett’s low rumble, and Saramaria’s higher pitched tone. They aren’t shouting. It sounds like... talking.
Maybe Rhett can get through to her. Maybe he can find a crack in that armor she’s wearing.
Or maybe she’s just loading the shotgun.
I lean my head back against the chair and close my eyes. The fire warms my face. The wind howls outside. Tomorrow is going to be a long day. But tonight, we’re here. We’re fed. We’re warm.
For now, that has to be enough.