The lighter sparked.
The fuse caught.
“Hey—” Lincoln started.
The tube tipped.
Law moved at the same instant three other men did.
Buckshot barked once, sharp, before Sage hooked a hand in his collar and hauled him back.
Winter crossed the yard in three long strides and planted a boot against the base of the tube, forcing it upright just as the shell fired.
The mortar thumped skyward instead of sideways.
A deep boom cracked overhead a second later, the shell bursting high above the yard in a spray of red and gold that rattled windows and scattered sparks across the darkening sky.
Micah had already grabbed two younger kids by the backs of their shirts and hauled them several feet away.
Boston kicked the crate of fireworks farther from the cluster of teenagers, wood scraping across the grass.
Rip stepped in front of the group without a word, broad shoulders forming an instant wall between the teenagers and the rest of the yard.
The whole thing took maybe three seconds.
For a moment, the smell of burnt powder drifted down through the yard, sharp and sulfurous against the sweeter scent of barbecue.
Then Law’s brothers arrived.
“What the hell were you thinking?” Lincoln snapped, grabbing one of the boys by the shoulder and spinning him around.
“You don’t light a mortar without setting the tube first,” another brother barked.
“And you sure as hell don’t do it with half the kids in the family standing three feet away.”
The teenagers wilted under the sudden barrage.
“Sorry,” one muttered.
Lincoln pointed at the ground beside the tube. “See that? You pack it into the dirt so it doesn’t tip.”
Another brother toed soil against the base of the tube to demonstrate. “Like that. Fires straight up. Not into the crowd.”
Winter stepped back from the tube, calm as if nothing had happened, and bumped into Memphis, who’d come in a second behind him. Memphis caught him automatically, steadying him with a hand at his back before his palms brushed quickly down Winter’s sides, checking him over.
“You good?” Memphis asked.
Winter smirked. “Yeah. You need to check under my shirt too?”
“What? No.” Memphis jerked his hands away and stepped back like he’d touched a hot stove.
A few of the nearby brothers snorted.
Law pointed toward the tube. “Next one goes in the ground first.”
The teenagers nodded like they’d just been lectured by God.
Across the yard, conversations slowly started again as the moment dissolved back into the noise of the gathering.
