Page 104 of Ashes of the Past
John has his arm around Olivia, and she has her face buried in Barney’s fur. Sirens are wailing in the distance.
“I’ve got the bleeding slowed down,” Paulo says. “It looks like the bullet went straight through. It was a clean shot.”
“Imagine shooting your own brother,” Nick huffs as he shakes his head in disbelief. “What a fucking shit show of a night.”
“That’s an understatement,” I say.
Brynn reaches down, as does Nick, and pulls me up off the ground. She wraps her arms around me, burying her face in my shirt.
So much for keeping this from Olivia.
The wail of sirens cuts through the heavy silence, flashing red and blue lights flooding the ranch yard as two patrol vehicles and an ambulance come barreling down the drive. The paramedics are out first, rushing straight to Clay, their equipment bags slamming against their legs as they kneel beside him. One of them barks out vitals while the other preps an IV. Clay groans, his face twisted in pain, but he’s still conscious. That’s more than I expected.
Sheriff Clark steps out of his SUV, his hat in place, a look of resigned irritation on his weathered face. The on-duty deputy, a younger guy named Harris, wastes no time making his way to Lane, who’s groaning but awake, still restrained on the ground. Without a word, Harris hauls him up, barely giving him time to catch his footing before shoving him into the back of the squad car. Lane lets out a string of curses, but it doesn’t matter. He’s done.
Clark surveys the scene, his gaze settling on me. “Well, Jack,” he drawls, “mind telling me what in the hell happened here?”
I exhale, rubbing the back of my neck, trying to get my thoughts in order. “Lane showed up high and agitated. Started kicking the dog, screaming at Olivia. Then Clay walked up. He grabbed Olivia and tried to take her. Barney lunged for him, and Lane pulled a gun. There was a struggle. A shot went off.” I glance toward the barn where the security cameras are mounted. “We’ve got it all on tape.”
Clark lets out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. “Hell, I’ve been in law enforcement a long time, but I’ve never had a shooting where the culprit was already pinned down by the time I showed up. Real considerate of you.” His expression sobers as he scans the ranch yard. “Everyone okay?”
I nod. “Physically, yeah. But Olivia—”
A sudden commotion from the stretcher draws our attention. Clay thrashes weakly against the paramedics as they strap him down, his voice hoarse but loud. “Olivia!” He jerks his head around, searching for her. “Olivia, you get over here right now!”
She doesn’t move. She stays where she is, small and trembling, tucked against John’s side. Her grandpa’s big hand rests protectively on her shoulder, keeping her grounded.
Clay’s face twists with fury when she doesn’t obey. “You ungrateful little brat!” His gaze swings wildly until it lands on Brynn. “This is your fault, you—”
He doesn’t get to finish.
Both John and I step forward at the same time, rage burning through the shock, but before we can get to him, Clark blocks our path, holding up a steadying hand. “Not worth it, boys.” His tone is firm and unbothered, but there’s a flicker of warning in his eyes. “Let the medics do their job.”
Clay wheezes out something else, another insult, but Brynn—she doesn’t even flinch. She doesn’t even look at him. Instead,she scoops Olivia up in her arms, balancing her daughter’s weight with ease, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Come on, Livy.” Her voice is calm and steady, like nothing in the world could shake her. “Let’s go inside.”
Barney, limping but still alert, falls in step beside them, his eyes locked on Clay until they disappear into the house.
I stare after them, my chest tight. She’s stronger than I ever realized. To turn her back on a man screaming his worst at her and not let it break her… that takes a kind of strength I’m not sure I’ll ever fully understand.
Clark lets out a long breath and turns back to Clay. “You might wanna shut your damn mouth,” he says flatly. “If you’re lucky, those paramedics are gonna keep your sorry ass alive.”
Clay glares at him, but his face is pale, sweat beading along his brow. He knows he’s fading. The fight is leaving him, whether he wants it to or not.
“Lane admitted to the barn fire and poisoning our cattle,” I tell Clark.
“Just handed it to me with a neat little bow, didn’t ya?” he asks with a dry laugh.
It’s not long before the ambulance is pulling away, sirens wailing into the night. The deputy starts processing the scene, taking statements, and collecting the security footage while Clark stands in the middle of it all, hands on his hips, surveying the damage.
The whole place is eerily quiet.
John has gone inside with Brynn and Olivia, and the rest of us just stand there in the empty yard, looking at each other, the weight of the night settling over us like a thick, suffocating fog.
I stand there, focusing on inhaling and exhaling slowly as the weight of everything settles on me.
I could have lost Brynn and Olivia tonight.
Chapter Forty-Three
