Chapter 13 The Ridge and the Reckoning
The Ridge and the Reckoning
Olivia
By the following day, a strange quiet settled into the house.
I’d made three laps around the living room before I realized afternoon had slipped in without changing a damn thing about the unease in my chest. Boone followed every pass with the focus of a man watching a tennis match.
June Bug bounced between us, her nails tapping out the same restless rhythm running through my muscles.
Vek stood near the window, body angled toward the ridge, shoulders relaxed but alert all the same. He didn’t lift the curtain or shift his stance — just listened the way he did when something outside nudged at instincts older than mine.
“You walk since morning,” he said quietly.
“Feels better than sitting,” I muttered, rubbing warmth into my arms. “Last night was quiet. Too quiet. So now my brain thinks there’s a reason for it.”
His ear tipped slightly. “You feel something.”
“Apparently.” I sighed. “Wish I didn’t.”
A look through the blinds offered the same view I’d grown up with, though it didn’t ease the tightness in my chest the way it should have. The trees held steady in the sun-warmed air, the ridge calm, the yard exactly as it had always been.
Boone didn’t buy it. Pushing to his feet, he shifted his weight forward, ears locked toward the backyard. June Bug went rigid beside him before pressing into my leg like she wanted to climb straight up it.
“Okay,” I whispered, “that’s new.”
Vek’s attention sharpened. It wasn’t dramatic—just a subtle tightening in the line of his back, a shift that told me he picked up something too. “Dogs smell early.”
“That’s what I was afraid of.”
My rifle leaned in the corner beside the bookshelf, exactly where I’d set it after Gunner left. I wasn’t ready to touch it, but knowing it wasn’t far kept my pulse from tipping into panic.
Without a sound, Vek stepped behind me. The warmth of his hand settled low on my back, steady and reassuring in a way that loosened some of the tension coiled beneath my ribs.
“You call brother?” he asked.
“Not unless I need to.” I tried for a steady breath. “He’s already back in the city. He’ll come if I ask, but it’ll take him time.”
Vek nodded once. “He come when you say.”
“Yeah,” I said softly. “Just… not fast.”
Boone let out a deeper huff, the one that never came without reason. June Bug trembled against my shin, tiny body vibrating with unspent alarm. Leaning over, I picked her up, tucking her against my chest and petting her gently.
Vek listened again, head tilting. “Air different.”
A tight breath escaped me. “I hate how you phrase things sometimes.”
He didn’t answer, which only confirmed my suspicion that he noticed something subtle I couldn’t see yet.
Still, the ridge stayed still. The house stayed quiet. My heartbeat didn’t follow suit.
“Maybe Gunner wasn’t overreacting,” I murmured. But I knew, even if I couldn’t yet see anything outside, that I was lying.
Evening crept into the house in a slow drift, softening the edges of the furniture and washing the walls in a dim amber glow. It should’ve been comforting, but it wasn’t. Something taut lived under the quiet, hanging on no matter how the hours slipped by.
Boone settled beneath the table near Vek’s legs, planted firm like he meant to hold the room together by sheer will. June Bug perched on the arm of the sofa, every nerve in her body aimed toward the window, unusually still for her size and temperament.
Vek stood near the front room again, shoulders tighter than they’d been at midday, gaze fixed on the treeline. His breath had taken on a quieter rhythm—the kind he used when he was listening to things I couldn’t hear.
“What is it?” I whispered.
He lifted his chin slightly. “Wind gone.”
I listened. The trees outside held perfectly still. No rustle of leaves. No chatter from the branches. Even the insects had quieted, leaving the atmosphere too thick for a normal spring evening.
The silence in the house sharpened every sound—the hum of the refrigerator, the tick of the clock, even my own heartbeat pressing hard against my ribs.
Vek inhaled, glancing through the curtains. “They close.”
My pulse leapt. “Who?”
His gaze shifted toward the left side of the property. Boone rose at the same instant, a deep growl climbing through his chest. When I stepped toward the window, Vek's hand closed gently around my wrist and pulled me back a pace.
“Stay behind.”
Something in the air shifted. A faint vibration moved through the floorboards—so slight I never would’ve caught it on my own. The hair along my arms lifted.
Vek listened with a focus that made the room feel smaller. “Engines,” he murmured. “Coming fast.”
The dread hit me hard, twisting my stomach until I thought I might be sick.
ATVs. Trucks. Tires grinding through mud and gravel. More than a few.
“Oh God… please, not today.”
Moving in front of me, Vek stood against the door. “Call brother.”
My fingers stumbled for the phone. To my relief, Gunner answered immediately.
“Liv?”
“They’re here,” I said, voice shaking. “T-Bone brought a group. Six… maybe more.”
“I’m coming,” he said. “Half an hour out. Keep your lights down and stay away from the windows.”
“Just hurry,” I whispered.
“I will.”
The call dropped, and my breath wavered, tears threatening to fall. For a moment, I thought about calling the cops, but I couldn’t. Not with Vek in my home. I couldn’t risk his safety even more.
Vek touched my shoulder, pulling me out of my panic. “He come.”
“Too far,” I murmured.
The engines swelled as they cut across the ridge, each rev sharper than the last. Boone planted himself at the front door beside Vek, barking with a ferocity I’d never heard from him.
June Bug pressed into my leg, trembling so hard her tiny body vibrated against my calf.
Needing to calm myself as much as her, I picked her up and held her close.
Headlights broke through the trees in harsh beams. One ATV hit the dip in the drive. Then another. Then a third. Two trucks followed, weaving in drunken, uneven arcs.
A sharp pain tightened under my ribs. “Come on, Gunner. Hurry.”
The men spilled out like they’d been rehearsing it. T-Bone led them, swagger sloppy, beer bottle dangling from his hand. The others fanned out behind him with flashlights, pipes, boards—anything that felt like a weapon to men with too much alcohol and too little sense.
Vek pulled me into a quick hug before bracing his back against the door. Boone’s barking echoed through the house, June Bug adding her frenzied trill to the chaos.
Shouts hit the yard in jagged bursts.
“Come out!”
“We know it’s in there!”
“Bring it out!”
My breath thinned. “This is starting.”
Vek didn’t take his eyes off the yard. “Doors locked?”
“All of them.”
Flashlights swept across the siding. The group began spreading out across the lawn, moving in wide circles, voices sharp with liquid courage.
“They’re surrounding us,” I said quietly, though my heart beat in a frantic rhythm.
“We stay together,” he replied. “Get gun.”
Setting June Bug down, I reached for my rifle and cocked it, hoping I wouldn’t have to take a shot at someone again.
A heavy fist struck the side of the house with enough force to rattle the windowpanes. Laughter followed. Another blow landed from farther back.
T-Bone bellowed above the rest, voice thick with booze. “Show yourself, big man!”
Boone lunged harder, barking until he nearly scraped through the frame. June Bug darted beneath a chair, shaking uncontrollably.
My phone buzzed with Gunner’s message:
Fifteen minutes out. Don’t move.
Fifteen minutes might as well have been a lifetime.
Footsteps thudded across the porch. Several sets. Someone tugged hard on the doorknob. Another cursed with frustration. A third slammed a shoulder into the door, making the chair beneath the knob jump.
Vek adjusted his stance, coverage widening, body bracing.
“They try break in,” he said.
I nodded, leaning to the side to peek through the curtain. “They’re getting close.”
The next blow struck harder—a deep, jarring impact that cracked the frame near the hinge and caused me to stumble back. Boone barked so fiercely the door shook behind him.
Shadows crossed the small pane near the top of the door, flashlight beams jittering in broken paths.
“Get off my porch!” My voice tore from me without thought. “Or I’ll shoot!”
The words didn’t even slow them.
The next slam hit like a sledgehammer. The top panel split. A wild laugh cracked through the dark. Then a fist punched through the small square window beside the door, sending glass across the floor in a glittering spray.
I screamed as an arm shoved through the opening, reaching blindly for the lock.
“Back!” I kicked his arm hard enough that he lost balance and pulled away. A man cursed outside, another shoved past him. “I swear to God I’ll shoot your damn arm off if you stick it back in my house!”
“Break it!”
“Push through!”
“Move!”
The door heaved again. Vek threw his weight forward, holding the door with all his strength. June Bug whimpered beneath my leg.
Then someone lost patience entirely.
“Shoot it!”
Time paused—just long enough for terror to anchor itself in my bones.
The gunshot shattered the window to the right of the door, spraying the room with shards of glass. Boone howled. June Bug flattened herself to the boards.
Vek jerked back from the impact.
A thin, stunned sound slipped out of him—more breath than voice. Red droplets hit the floorboards in quick, startling spatters.
“No—Vek—” I caught him as his knees buckled, but he slipped from my grasp, crashing against the floorboards as if his strength had failed him all at once.
“Vek!” My voice broke as I dropped beside him, hands shaking so violently I could barely see.
Blood warmed my palms. His breath stuttered.
Outside, the men shouted as several truck engines entered the fray from down the drive. Gunner.
Boots hit the ground. Something slammed into the house again. The world narrowed to the man bleeding at my feet while the yard erupted outside.
“Stay with me,” I begged, voice cracking. “Please—stay with me…”
His breath faltered again.
And everything inside me went cold.