Chapter 59

I’d seen relief on Josh’s face as he’d pulled open his jacket. Fucking relief. I can’t even begin to think about what’s happened to him since I left. If I do, I’ll fall into a pit of guilt, but none of that hits me as hard as the terror does when Wiley grabs me and throws me to the ground before covering me with his body. I’d had just enough time to tuck myself into him as much as possible before the world exploded.

Immediately my ears start ringing. I’m screaming but the sound isn’t louder than the ringing, and then as things begin to subside, everything sounds like a dull crescendo, as if my ears are plugged up and everyone is talking at once. When Wiley slumps above me, I panic, pushing at him to get up, but he’s too heavy and I can’t move him. I don’t have long to wait before someone is hoisting him up off me. Levi’s face appears briefly as he cradles Wiley and takes off. Dakota is the one who scoops me up off the ground and starts to run back toward the side-by-sides.

“Wiley!” I scream, my eyes on his unconscious form.

Dakota tosses me in the seat and climbs behind the wheel, immediately throwing it into gear and speeding back toward the house. My eyes dance over to the other side-by-side following us, a few of them bleeding, but otherwise okay. It seems that Wiley may have taken the worst of it. We’d been the closest.

It’s only as I turn around to check on the other side-by-side that I notice the line of black cars. I grab a fistful of Levi’s shirt and jerk him to look. My ears are still plugged up and there’s still the slight ringing there I suspect won’t go away for a while, but I can still hear it when Levi says one word.

“Dakota.”

Dakota glances over his shoulder and nods. “We’re ready,” he says. “Put out the calls.”

Levi immediately flips out his phone and starts texting.

“What’s happening?” I ask, my voice weird in my ears, as if it’s in my head rather than spoken out loud.

“Reinforcements,” Dakota says. “How many cars are there?”

I turn back to the road where the cars are descending on the destroyed gate. My eyes trace over the line. “Six. . . I think.”

“Suburbans or cars?” he asks.

“All Suburbans.”

He nods. “Then each car can have up to eight people in it.”

My throat feels thick as I swallow and look back forward, not wanting to see just how much shit we’re about to be in. Yes, I knew they’d come, but I didn’t think they’d bring a whole army of people.

“Can we handle this?” I croak. I know my face must be white by now. This has been my fear since the beginning, but I never expected them to send so many. I’m not that important. I’m just a girl from New Jersey.

“We can handle it,” he says without any further explanation.

The house comes into view and we drive the side-by-sides all the way up the porch steps. Dakota immediately whistles and all the dogs who’d been sitting up alert at the explosion immediately start moving.

“Inside!” Dakota yells. “Get the dogs inside! Everyone get inside!”

Everything turns into a whirlwind of movement as we leap from the side-by-side. I immediately rush to where Levi starts trying to pick up Wiley only for Wiley to come awake swinging.

“Stop moving, idiot! You’re hurt!” Levi growls as he tries to lift Wiley into his arms again.

“I can walk, asshole!” he spits, immediately trying to get to his feet. Levi scowls and gives in just to keep things moving. He loops his arm beneath Wiley’s and starts helping him inside, but Wiley had been telling the truth. He seems to be able to walk, at least.

The moment we’re back inside the house, Levi drops Wiley onto a stool and immediately starts pulling his shirt off to check out the wounds in his back. I’d seen the blood spots as he’d walked inside. He’s definitely hurt but none of us know how much.

“It’s just the blast,” Wiley grumbles. “Probably have a concussion, but I’ll be fine until we get through this.” He wipes his face with his shirt. “That sniveling shrimp-dicked bastard!”

I flinch at his outburst, but I don’t blame him. I can’t imagine what had been going on in Josh’s mind, but to come out here with a bomb. . .

Levi forces him forward. “Hold still, Wiley. We don’t know how bad things are yet.”

‘They’re not that bad,” Wiley growls. “I’ve had worse. These’re just a few scratches.”

I move around the chair to take a look at his back as Levi takes it in. Most of the wounds are small, but there’s a small piece of medal sticking out of Wiley’s shoulder that has Levi ordering for someone to get him a first aid kit.

“Is anyone else hurt?” Dakota calls through the house.

“Jimmy has a head wound from hitting the ground but otherwise, everyone seems okay,” someone responds.

“Good,” he says, immediately reaching for the tablet Wiley used to check security. “I’m starting the sequence now.”

“What sequence?” I ask, watching as Levi carefully picks the metal out of Wiley’s shoulder with a pair of tweezers.

“I had some extra things installed while we were on the drive,” Dakota responds, coming over to show me on the tablet. I watch a bunch of different cameras along the road, but what I see are the gates slowly closing, each one made of metal. The cars pull into the driveway at the end and stop, waiting for a few minutes, before they start again.

“Calling John,” Levi says as he grabs a bottle of alcohol and dumps it down Wiley’s back.

Wiley snarls and jerks away. “You asshole! That hurts!”

“Thought you had worse,” Levi jokes, but turns his attention to his phone once John answers on the other line.

I turn back to the screen, watching as the front car uses its grill like a battering ram, destroying the first gate. I start to panic as I realize they’re coming and things are going to get a whole lot worse very quickly.

“They’re breaking through,” I gasp. “Dakota, they’re not stopping!”

Dakota grins at me as he taps the screen to see another angle. “They’re not meant to stop them, Kate.” His eyes flicker with something. Rage? And something else. Anticipation? Either way, it makes his face tight as he looks at me. “They’re only meant to slow them down.”

He taps the screen again and the cattle guard disappears, leaving nothing but a hole behind.

“How long?” I croak.

“Ten minutes at most,” he replies. “Cowgirl up, Calamity Kate. We’re about to go to war.”