“Very true,” Noah agrees, his hand sliding up my inner thigh.
His attempts to rile me up again are interrupted by my cell phone ringing. I blink, puzzled. Who would be calling me at this hour? I reach across the bed and swipe it off the nightstand. Delia’s name flashes on the screen and I answer.
“Hello?”
Flynn’s phone starts ringing as well and he gets up to go retrieve it.
Delia’s voice is thick and sounds choked with tears.
“Gina, we need everyone down at the ranch site right away.”
“Of course,” I say, getting up and digging clothes out of drawers.
The tone of Delia’s voice has goosebumps creeping up on my skin, and Flynn sounds concerned as he responds to whoever he’s talking to.
“What’s going on, Del, is everything all right?”
Delia pauses for a long time and takes a deep, shaky breath before answering.
“There’s been a fire.”
Chapter Fourteen
Neil
We can smell the smoke from over a mile away as the five of us ride in silence to the site of the ranch. Despite the fact that the fire’s been put out at this point, the flashing lights of the emergency vehicles still blind us as we’re pulling up.
I see the cluster of our friends, all of them looking as disheveled as the five of us. Tear streaks stain Lucy’s and Delia’s cheeks, and their husbands look both angry and sad.
It takes me a moment to gather the nerve to look. And when I do, I wish I hadn’t. Almost half of the north wing has completely collapsed. Fuck, this is going to set us back at least two weeks, if not more.
Not to mention all the extra money it’s going to cost to get more materials and pay the rest of the crew.
All of that hard work, gone up in smoke.
“We can make insurance claims in the morning,” Rowan says, scrubbing a hand over his face, “It might not recoup everything, but it’s something.”
“Excuse me,” a voice says behind us, “I was told you people are the owners of this property?”
We turn to look. Behind us is a dark-haired redwood tree of a man, dressed in a cop uniform. I’m over six foot and I still had to look up at the guy. His nametag reads ZUNIGA, and his expression is solemn.
“Yes, that’s correct,” Rowan says.
“Well, sir, I’m afraid I have some bad news for you. The fire chief tells me that this fire doesn’t look like an accident.”
“Wait, what?” I look at him.
“Yes, he’s still investigating, but when I spoke with him, he sounded quite certain that this is a case of arson.”
I’d been expecting to hear that there was some electrical problem, which was yet another thing I was worried about fixing, but-
“Arson?” Lucy’s voice is nearly a whisper, “Who would do that?”
“Do you even have to ask?” Noah asks with a snarl, “It’s those fucking Sanders brothers.”
Crimson floods my vision as I’m awash with anger.
How had I not realized it?
Of course it was them.
“The Sanders brothers?” Officer Zuniga asks.
“Earl and Virgil Sanders,” Delia explains, “They’re building a competing dude ranch over on Maple.”
“I’m familiar with Earl and Virgil,” Officer Zuniga says drily, “Those two spend more than their fair share of time in the drunk tank. I’ll look into it. None of you have any other enemies I should be aware of?”
Gina bites her lip, and I can tell she’s thinking of her ex-husband, but I speak up before she can.
“We’ll come up with a list of names for you and get it to you by tomorrow,” I tell the officer, wrapping an arm around Lucy’s shoulders. “I’m sure you understand, this is a stressful situation and we’re not all thinking clearly. But I’m certain you won’t even need any other names. Once you find the Sanders brothers, I’m sure it’ll be a done deal.”
Gina shoots me a look of pure gratitude and Officer Zuniga nods.
“Yes, of course,” he passes around business cards, “And if you think of anything else, this has my office extension and my work cell. I just need to borrow one of you to fill out some paperwork,” he looks over our group.
“I’ll do it,” Barry says, and follows him back to his car.
“Well, guess this means we’re going back to court,” Delia sighs.
Unfortunately, both Delia and Lucy and their husbands have had to deal with the legal system within the last year and a half, due to greedy relatives trying to grab land.
Lucy cracks a tiny smile.
“What do you think the chances of getting Judge Brown again are?” she asks. “We’ve had good luck when we were in front of him before with matters having to do with the ranch.”
Delia breaks into a grin.
“Still fifty-fifty. If we do, I’m almost worried that he’s gonna scold us for getting into trouble all the time,” she says, laughing, “But I hope we do get him. He’s a good guy.”
Rowan and Keenan nod in agreement, as do Cillian and Seamus. Barry rejoins us after a few minutes, and the fire chief isn’t far behind him.
“Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, everyone,” the chief says as he approaches, “But this is definitely a clear-cut case of arson.”
Even though we knew it was coming, the words still hit like a physical blow.
“Fortunately,” the chief adds, “It was a poorly done case of arson, so the damage was contained to this area here,” he points to the north wing “And even about half of that should be salvageable. These guys were lazy, only set up one point of ignition, so at least there’s a small silver lining.”
He’s right. It is a silver lining, even if it’s pencil-thin. I guess if you have to deal with an arsonist, a lazy one is optimal. Probably makes them easier to catch, too. So I try and take the news as a blessing.
A while later, the chief tells us that it’s safe to enter the building. The dozen of us go in to assess the damage. The fire chief was right, it looks like about half the wing was spared. We might have lost everything if it hadn’t been for a late-night trucker passing through who had spotted the flames and called the fire department.
Of course, the Sanders had picked the most completed section of the ranch, but the more we look things over, the more our spirits rise. This fire may be a setback, but it’s not the crushing disaster we feared.
I can’t stop yawning a few hours later, when we’ve finished our walkthrough and finished up with the fire chief and Officer Zuniga. A glance at my watch shows that it’s nearly four in the morning.
“Well, I think I can let you folks head home and get some sleep now, I think we’ve got it from here,” Officer Zuniga says finally.
His demeanor had softened over the night, and it seemed we were no longer in the “suspects” column.
The twelve of us trudge out to our cars in silence. We’re all deeply drained from the roller coaster evening, but Barry stops us before we separate into our groups.
“Guys, I just want to say something. I know this sucks, and this sets us back and makes things harder, but we’re going to power through it. We’re going to keep putting in the hard work, and we’ve got a great crew to back us up. We’re going to do this. Together.”
“You’re a fucking cheeseball, Barr,” Noah replies, making us all laugh, “But you’re right. We’ve got this.”
Delia thrusts her hand in the middle of all of us.
“Hands in!”
“Del, come on, we’re grown-ass adults,” Seamus complains, but his whining stops when he sees the blazing expression on the pregnant woman’s face.
Timidly, he puts his hand in. I snicker and throw mine in as well, and I’m quickly joined by my brothers. We know better than to fuck with a sleepy pregnant woman, after our older sister got pregnant the first time.
The tip of Noah’s pinkie toe never really did grow back right.
Once everyone’s put their hands in, Delia frow
ns.
“I… I don’t know what to chant,” she admits.
“Go team?” Lucy offers through a yawn.
“Go team!” the rest of us crow half-heartedly, throwing our hands in the air.
“You know,” Gina musters, “We never did come up with a name for this place.”
I look at her.
“Did you have something in mind?”
She nods.
“The Phoenix Ranch. Because we’re going to rise from the ashes and become something even better.”
The Phoenix.
Rising from the ashes.
I like it.
Chapter Fifteen
Gina
I doze off sandwiched in the backseat between Noah and Neil on the drive home. It’s silent in the car, between everyone’s exhaustion and the weight of everything that’s happened.
Part of me is blissfully happy as I embark on a new relationship, but right on its heels was this fire, so I’m looking forward to some blissful, black-out sleep to help calm the tumultuous hurricane of emotions I’ve been enduring over the last two days.
The Byrne brothers clearly feel the same way when we pull in front of my house. I exchange brief, downright chaste kisses with each of them before bidding them good night...morning...whatever, and they drive off.
But as I drag my carcass towards my front door, the sight that greets me is the straw that breaks me. My younger sister, Veronica, is sitting on my porch swing. The bush in front of it that conceals my porch a bit had shielded her from my view while when I’d pulled up, or I might have asked the Byrnes to come with me.
“Gina,” Veronica gets to her feet and steps toward me, opening her arms like she’s going for a hug.
I hold up my hands.
“Whoa. Nope. Not doing this.”
“Gina, please, look, I swear, it was a one-time thing, I never meant to-”
I snake a hand out and clap it over my little sister’s mouth.
“Roni,” I tell her firmly, “I will let you tell your story, we will deal with all the bullshit, and you can tell me all about how Lionel’s miserable and getting fat and bald without me, but I am not talking to you or anyone else until I get some fucking sleep.”
She blinks wide blue eyes at me and slowly nods. Her expression is a little bit terrified. And without another word, I trudge into my house and the next thing I know, I’m waking up with my face jammed into a pillow.
My shoes are still on my feet, along with the hoodie I’d thrown on in my rush to leave the house. Apparently I just face-planted directly into the bed and passed out that way. And when I struggle to sit up, I call my past self a few creative insults for not having just gotten into bed like a normal human being.
My back creaks in protest as I get to my feet and I’m so stiff from the awkward position that it feels like every inch of me is creaky and needs oiling.
Geez, how long was I out? I wonder.
My memory is hazy from the car ride onward. I squint at my bedside clock. It’s already eleven a.m.
I groan and I’m about to hop in the shower when it hits me.
Fuck. My sister is here.
I settle instead for raking a comb through the mop on my head and tugging it back into a messy bun, and scrubbing a washcloth over my face to remove any lingering remnants of dried drool.
A glance in the mirror shows that I look at least mostly human, so with that, I make my way downstairs. Veronica is curled on my couch, reading a book. It tugs at my heartstrings to see her, looking so normal. I may not have missed Lionel, but I have missed Veronica. Her betrayal had hurt far worse than my husband’s.
We’d been close, growing up, even though we were a few years apart. Though we had drifted a little after I’d gotten married. Veronica had still been in high school, and she’d fallen in with a bad crowd. She’d started drinking and partying, and I’d been too busy settling into life as a housewife to save her from drowning.
She notices me watching her and jumps up, tossing the book aside.
“Hey, are you ok? You were kind of doing a whole scary zombie thing when you got here and I’m not sure how coherent you were. You tried to tell me something, but you were mumbling and about the only words I caught were “bullshit,” “bald,” and “sleep,” so I just kind of let you do your thing.”
“I had a very, very long night,” I say with a sigh, “What are you doing here?”
Veronica’s blue eyes fill with tears. “Gina, I’m here to say I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything I did, I never meant to hurt you.”
Veronica explains that Lionel had been flirting with her behind my back since before we’d even been married, which turns my stomach. She’d brushed it off as harmless for years, until one day, a few months before the incident, she said he had started texting her.
At first, it was nothing, just normal conversation. But then his flirty nature came through and he had started becoming more aggressive with her, telling her how beautiful she was and that our marriage was nothing but a piece of paper to please our parents. Apparently he had claimed to her that both of us slept around all the time.
She’d been shocked, but his flattery had won her over, and she’d given in. Just the once. It just so happened to be the “once” when I walked in.
“Mom and Dad always wanted me to be more like you, so…” she looks down at her hands, “I guess I just decided to try to be you, to step into your life.”
I feel a pang of sympathy. The young woman I’m looking at right now is the same age I was when I’d left my husband. She’d only been eighteen back then. And considering I’d married the fucker, I can’t say I’d made better decisions when I was a young adult.
What Veronica had done wasn’t ok, but she was human. How could I fault her for a mistake I might have made, myself, in her shoes? She was just a kid, being flattered and promised the world by a wealthy, good-looking guy, and she’d caved.
And the person in front of me now is not the wild girl I’d left behind. That much is clear. Long gone is her bleach-blonde hair and her miniskirts that I think were originally sold as headbands. And the sharp angles in her face that had begun to appear when the little white lines did have smoothed back out.
“Why are you only reaching out now?” I ask, curious.
She looks at me with an expression that reflects back years of frustration and sadness.
“I’ve been trying to! But you changed your name and moved to bum-fuck-nowhere. I didn’t know where to find out, I couldn’t find a phone number, an address, anything. And how would I have known to look for you under Grandma’s last name?”
She had a point. I had kind of disappeared into the tiny little town, and when my parents had called me, trying to get me to go back to Lionel, I had decided that I wanted nothing to do with their name.
“Mom and Dad said they couldn’t reach you either, but then last week Dad admitted that they had all of your contact info,” she explains, “I tried to call, but I guess the only number they had was for your shop and every time I’ve called, you’ve been closed, so I just…” she shrugs and gestures around herself, “I just came down here. But all of that’s beside the point.”
She picks at her cuticle nervously, staring back down at her hands.
“Look, all of this, the whole story, I know it explains what happened, but I also know it doesn’t excuse it,” Veronica said. “For a long time, I blamed everyone and everything but myself. I blamed the drugs, I blamed Lionel for manipulating me, I blamed Mom and Dad for putting too much pressure on me, I even blamed you for pushing me away. I made up excuses, but deep down, I know that I made the mistakes I made. I made those choices. And I will bear the consequences for the rest of my life.”
She swallows, hard, and looks into my eyes.
“I don’t expect it, and I know I don’t deserve it, but do you think you’ll ever be able to forgive me?”
I realize that I already had forgiven her. Somewhere along the line these past few years, I’
d stopped being angry at Veronica. I’d still been hurt for some time, but that wound has been healed.
“Yeah. I forgive you, Squirt.” I say quietly, opening my arms to her.
She throws herself at me, hugging me tight, and sobs into my shoulder. Tears trickle down my face, and it feels like a missing piece from my life is finally in place where it should be. I have my sister back.
We stay like that for a long time before she finally pulls back and wipes at her swollen eyes.
“I’ve missed you so much, Gina,” she says.
“I’ve missed you, too,” I admit.
I lead her over to the couch and the two of us sit.
“So,” she starts, hiccuping and reaching for a tissue from the box on my end table, “I noticed you got dropped off this morning by a whole bunch of hotties. Who are they?” The sparkle in her eyes is infectious.
I laugh.
“Sorry, sister, all four of those gorgeous pieces of man-candy are mine.”
Her jaw drops.
“Are you serious?”
I nod, and for a moment, it feels like we’re teenagers again, giggling and telling secrets late into the night.
“Is that why you were limping when you came down off the stairs?” she asks, sounding mildly horrified, “Wait, no, ew, I don’t think I want to know.”
I slap her leg.
“My foot was asleep, brat!” I laugh, “I’d say get your mind out of the gutter, but then the poor little thing would be homeless.”
She flips me the bird in response and the two of us break into howls of laughter.
“So, seriously,” she says when she’s calmed down, “You have four boyfriends?”
I nod again.
“I traded up.”
“And then some!” she laughs, tucking her hair behind her ears.
I notice a flash on her left hand and grab it.
“And what is this?” I ask her, referencing the glittering diamond ring on her finger.
Her cheeks turn pink and she grins from ear to ear.
“You might remember him, actually; he was my lab partner freshman year of high school.”
Four Times the Luck: Irish Reverse Harem Enemies to Lovers Romance Page 7