Chapter 56
BLAKE
The cuffs loosen around my wrists.
“You knew,” I accuse again.
Grant scoffs. “I did what I had to do.”
“You’re pathetic.” Levi’s words drip with a concentrated dose of hate as he takes a step forward.
Grant’s gun swings to Levi. “Don’t move!”
Levi freezes.
Walker slowly lifts one hand. “Easy, Grant.”
“No!” Grant screams, the composure he’d worn all evening finally shattering. “No more talking!”
His chest rises and falls in frantic bursts as he throws his hands in the air. “You ruined everything!”
Walker keeps his voice low. “You did that yourself.”
“I was supposed to have that land!” Grant spits. “That resort should’ve been mine!”
“It cost you your soul,” Santiago seethes.
Grant laughs. “My soul?” His finger tightens on the trigger. “You three don't get to lecture me about souls.”
He looks at me and repeats, “They’re murderers.”
My face flushes with rage. “They're better men than you'll ever be.”
My words slap him in the face, and his expression twists. “You stupid bitch.”
He raises his gun, aiming it at my men.
My men.
Everything slows.
Walker doesn't flinch. Levi shifts his weight. Santiago’s finger lands on the trigger.
None of them moves because no one wants to be the reason Grant pulls the trigger.
I do.
My hands slip free from the cuffs, and without thinking, I launch myself at Grant, my shoulder slamming into his side.
The gun discharges.
The deafening crack echoes through the cabin. Wood explodes from the log wall.
“Blake!”
Grant and I fall into a tangled heap.
Walker is on Grant instantly. Levi yanks me back and then crashes into the fray, trying to wrench the pistol free. Santiago grabs Grant’s wrist, and the gun clatters to the floor.
The four men slam into the stone hearth. The branding iron clatters from the fireplace.
A burning log rolls across the old wooden floor, and the dry wood floor smokes.
Grant drives an elbow into Walker's jaw. Walker grunts, and Levi loses his grip. Grant tears free.
His boot kicks the burning log farther into the room. Flames race across the wood, licking at the wall.
The cabin groans as smoke curls toward the ceiling.
“Santi!” Walker barks. “The fire!”
Santiago reaches for the extinguisher mounted beside the fireplace.
Grant dives for his gun.
“No!” Walker tackles him again.
The pistol skids further across the floor, sliding right to my feet.
Grant and I see it at the same time.
We both move.
My fingers close around it first, and I rise to my feet, hands trembling so violently I can barely hold the weight.
Grant freezes.
The only sound is the roar of the growing fire.
Walker slowly circles around Grant, coming to my side. Levi and Santiago do the same.
“Baby Girl, give me the gun.”
I shake my head adamantly.
“Blake...” Grant stares down the barrel, his voice softening. “I didn't mean—”
“Don’t.” The single word comes out steady—far steadier than I feel.
Levi inches closer to my side. “Butterfly, you don’t have to do this.”
“Mi Cielo.” Santiago slowly reaches toward the gun, his voice calm. “Come here.”
“I do.” I take a steadying breath, calming myself in the eye of the storm.
“You knew what Landon was doing to me.” My voice goes eerily calm. “And you chose money.”
Grant takes one cautious step toward me. “You’re not like them.”
I tighten my grip.
Grant moves forward another step.
The fire snaps loudly behind him, and a beam overhead creaks.
“You're a good person.”
A bitter laugh escapes me, and the ceiling groans again. “You’re wrong.”
Grant’s face falls.
“I chose them, remember?” The smile on my lips isn’t one of joy. It’s filled with unadulterated retribution.
With the gun in one hand, I lift the hem of my shirt with the other. “And now I carry their mark.”
Grant’s eyes widen as he lunges for me.
My finger wraps around the trigger and squeezes.
The bullet tears through Grant’s shoulder, pushing him backward, right under the collapsing loft.
A massive timber crashes between us, and the entire cabin quakes.
Fire explodes upward.
Grant’s screams drift above the wildly dancing embers.
He reaches through the flames. “Help me!”
Instinctively, I want to help, but then I see a little girl curled beneath the blankets, staring up at her starry sky and praying that someone would open the bedroom door.
Grant coughs violently. “Please!”
Walker reaches me first. He gently takes the gun from my hands. “Blake.”
I don't answer.
My eyes never leave Grant. I watch as his skin bubbles and burns, as he suffers from his own torture.
The flames climb higher, and Levi wraps an arm around my shoulders. “We have to go.”
I don’t argue. I simply turn and let him lead me away.
The cold air hits me like a slap. I collapse to my knees in the snow. Someone wraps a blanket around my shoulders. Someone else cups my face, checking the cut on my head.
Levi.
Walker kneels in front of me, his hands searching my wrists, my face, my shoulders as though he needs to convince himself I'm whole.
Santiago carefully lifts the edge of my shirt. His eyes land on the brand, and his throat works. “I’m so sorry, mi Cielo.”
He presses the gentlest kiss imaginable just above the swollen, raw skin.
Sirens echo through the mountains. Red and blue lights dance across the snow. Firefighters rush past us toward the cabin. Deputies that I don’t recognize fan out around the property.
Someone calls my name, and I look up.
ángel.
His clothes are streaked with dried blood as he clutches Javier's hat in one hand.
Santiago is on his feet before ángel reaches us. “How is he?”
ángel's eyes fill.
“Bear's okay,” ángel informs.
Relief washes over all of us.
ángel's gaze drops. “But...” His voice breaks. “Javier didn't make it.”
I’m unable to sit up any longer. Walker catches me as I slump forward.
Santiago doesn't cry immediately. He simply stares as if he didn't understand the words.
Then his knees buckle.
Levi catches him, pressing his head to Santiago’s. I watch as his lips move, offering whispers of love and comfort.
I force myself to my feet, only achieving the movement with Walker’s help. Stepping forward, I wrap my arms around Santiago. He turns in my arms and folds against me as Walker holds our combined weight.
Santiago’s shoulders shake, allowing himself to grieve.
The four of us stand together beneath the falling snow while the cabin burns behind us.
The fire consumes the entire structure—the roof, the walls, the secrets, the lies, the pictures.
Everything Grant built his life around turns to ash.
I rest my hand on the skin above the Falling Sky brand on my stomach. It still hurts. Maybe it always will.
But as Walker covers my hand with his, Levi takes my other, and Santiago leans his forehead against mine…
I realize that Grant was wrong.
He didn't mark me as belonging to Falling Sky.
I already belonged.
Not to the ranch or the symbol.
I belong to a family that chooses me.
And I choose them back.