Charlie grabs the pump while Jason hauls the hoses over to the tank. Justin helps Charlie connect everything, and they work together to hold the weight of the hose and direct the spray to create a sort of fire line around the edge of the property.
The sound of crackling wood fills the air as the backside of the stable catches fire. Just as I start toward the stable, Joaquin opens the door, letting Sparrow and Colt jog two of the horses over to the trailer.
Thank fucking Christ.
“Where’s the mare?” I ask, helping load the two geldings, too relieved that my guys are okay.
Joaquin shakes his head. “She was so scared, fighting us. I don’t think—”
Fire whooshes up from the stable’s roof, at least fifty feet in the air, and my stomach drops as the mare’s distressed whinny pitches up.Fuck, that was fast.
Giving his dad a quick hug, Sparrow says in a low voice, “Pá, I can coax her out.”
Joaquin pulls back. “No, hijo. It’s not—”
Sparrow, however, is already on his way, racing toward the burning building.
“Hijo! Qué ‘tas haciendo?” Joaquin yells.
Sparrow yells out over his shoulder. “I have to try.”
Joaquin tries to go after him, and I hold him back. “He knows what he’s doing, Joaquin.”
His eyes are wide with fear as he points out the flames consuming the stable. I hold on, praying that Sparrow knows what the fuck he’s doing.
In the meantime, Erik, Wills’s taciturn right-hand guy, swears under his breath. “Fuck.The kitten.It’s never been outside.”
Colt’s eyes go wide, and he hands me the reins to the horse he’s loading. “I got it, man,” he yells, taking off toward the burning structure.
Just as he clears the door, more flames shoot up from the rear of the stable, and Joaquin rips away from me with panic in his eyes and goes tearing off after them. I yell for Wills’s men to take over with the horses and race to catch up with Joaquin, knowing that I can’t let him go into that building.
Sparrow bursts through the door, bare-chested, looking like he’s passed through a ring of hell with soot on his nose and a line of scorched skin across his shoulder, clutching the mare’s reins. His shirt’s haphazardly tied over her eyes, probably to stop her from panicking. I don’t think it’s working.
He quickly gets her a safe distance from the building, despite the fact that he’s barely breathing and she’s fighting him every step of the way. Joaquin's shoulders drop with relief.
Cursing under his breath, Sparrow pulls the shirt off the mare’s face, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen that much white around a horse’s eyes. It sets my heart pounding. God, I’m so afraid. Why am I…? Oh fuck.
“Where's Colt?” I scream.
Sparrow, still catching his breath, shakes his head. I look over at Joaquin, and we run inside, neither of us caring about the state of the goddamn building.
If the outside is a hellscape, the inside is Satan’s fucking throne room. Flames crawl up the walls, consuming the wood like tinder.
Water starts pouring through the roof, but at best, it can barely keep up with the progress of the flames. At worst, it’s speeding up the structure’s inevitable collapse. The building shivers, about to lose its integrity entirely, and panic crushes my heart. Joaquin’s eyes, darting everywhere, hold the same alarm.
Where the fuck is Colt?
Just as I’m grappling with the fact that we may have to run out of here without half of my heart, there’s a small parting of smoke and haze. I barely make out Colt on all fours, fanning his hands out under the hay before bringing something to his chest.
“Colt!” I choke out, racing to him, Joaquin hot on my heels.
We each grab an elbow and haul him to his feet, and he hugs himself tighter, even as he chokes and struggles to breathe. We drag him toward the entrance, large sections of the ceiling falling down behind us. Together, we burst through the door at full speed, continuing past it until we’re at the trailers.
Colt, who hasn’t said a word, falls to his knees, coughing violently, barely able to catch his breath. Focused on our man, Joaquin and I nearly startle out of our skins as the entire structure collapses behind us, shaking the ground.
Only then do we hear plaintive, high-pitched meows. Colt opens his arms and reveals the little kitten we saw on our first visit here. It used to be white but is now nearly black with soot, one of its ears badly burned.
Erik lets out a strangled cry, then delicately takes the kitten from Colt’s arms, giving him a solemn nod. I can’t swear to it, but I think the big guy wipes away a tear on his shoulder. Meanwhile, Joaquin kneels, searching Colt for injuries.
