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.”
