Stars & Stripes

They scrambled for the French doors of Beverly’s office.



Zane took the steps three at a time as bullets tore up the façade, splintering the wood and sending flowers spilling from broken pots. He ran for the den and its gun cabinets, trying not to think about the odds outside or the image of Ty falling to the ground that kept replaying in his head. He yanked a case open and grabbed a shotgun and a rifle. They were loaded and ready to go; guns in the Garrett household were meant to be used, not admired for their shiny parts.



“What in the blazing hinges of hell is going on out there!” Harrison took one of the weapons from Zane’s hand.



“I have no idea!” Zane loaded up a shotgun and grabbed a handful of extra rounds. “See if you can find the family, get everyone upstairs.”



Harrison grabbed him as he was turning away. “Where are you going?”



“Ty’s out there,” Zane said. He yanked away and ran for the front door.



When he got to the door he hit the marble, staying low as he peered out. Ty was nowhere to be seen. Only a blood smear on the front steps was left of him.



“Ty!” Zane called out. Above the commotion he heard his name called in response. He strained his ears, but instead of Ty, he heard the galloping of horses. In the flickering firelight, he caught silhouettes of horses racing into the night; the entire stock of the C and G had fled from a barn as flames licked at its roof.



Zane’s mind flooded with horror at the sudden outburst of violence. Whoever had been working with Stuart didn’t trust him not to give them away. They were making a break for it tonight.



Gunfire from the back of the house sounded like it was coming from outside and within. His father was firing back.



Zane picked up his rifle and crawled out the door, intent on finding Ty. “Where the fuck are you?” Zane muttered. He hurried down the steps, staying low. Blood stained the steps, but not as much as he’d feared. Ty may have been able to get up under his own power and find cover.



Zane crouched low and skirted the truck parked in front of the steps, heading for the barn. “Grady!”



“Garrett!”



Zane skidded to a halt and turned. He finally saw Ty, lying under the truck on his back. Zane dove for it, peering underneath with a relieved laugh. “Are you okay?”



“Clipped me. I’m bleeding.”



“Come on, let’s get inside.”



“I can’t.”



“Ty, come on, quit screwing around,” Zane said as he reached under the truck to grip Ty’s arm. He pulled, but Ty didn’t budge.



Ty met his eyes, the hazel looking a sickly gray in the firelight. “My cast is stuck on the undercarriage.”



“That’s not funny, Ty.”



“You’re right, Zane, it’s not! Give me your knife.”



“I don’t have it, it’s in my carry-on bag. Where’s yours?”



“It’s in an evidence bag!”



“Goddammit, Ty!” Zane tried tugging at him again, but Ty cried out and shoved at his hand.



“Go get me a knife!”



Zane handed him the shotgun and ran for the house. There were more gunshots, and the tiger was somewhere, roaring. He didn’t have time to be confused, he was just reacting and hoping they could sort out the who and the why later. He ran for the kitchen, but almost toppled over his father as he pushed through the door.



“Dad!”



“Zane!”



Zane was shocked to see all the people in the kitchen—at least twenty, some family, some guests of the party. Annie and Beverly huddled together in the banquette, pale and drawn. Harrison held a shotgun, as did at least five other employees of the ranch. Mark was there, a rifle in his hands and blood at his hairline.



“What are you doing?” Zane asked his dad. “I told you to get upstairs!”



“If we head up, we’ll be trapped,” Mark said, shouting over the noise.



“Where’s Sadie?” Annie screamed.



Zane shook his head, his eyes drawn back to Mark. If Mark wasn’t behind it, then who the hell was? His stomach flipped. A blast sounded from the front of the house.



“Ty.” Zane grabbed his dad’s arm. “Do you have a knife?”



Harrison dug in his pocket and handed Zane his pocketknife. He followed Zane to the front door, where they both stopped and watched in horror as flames licked at the bed of the truck parked in the driveway. Glass broke somewhere in the house. Then another window smashed.



“Molotov cocktails,” Zane said. “They’re going to set fire to the house.”



“I called the sheriff back. They were already halfway to Austin.”



“They’ll never get here in time.” He shoved at his dad. “Go get the others, we have to fight back or we’ll be dead. I have to get Ty.”



“Where is he?”



“Stuck under the truck.”



Zane took the steps two at a time and darted around the truck to dive to the gravel at Ty’s side.



“Truck’s on fire, Zane,” Ty said, sounding urgent but calm.



“I see that, Ty,” Zane said through gritted teeth. He handed Ty the knife.



“Watch your six,” Ty said, then disappeared further under the truck. When Zane turned and looked up, a 4x4 was thundering toward them. He raised the shotgun in his hands, knowing the birdshot would do nothing to slow down the truck but hoping to hit the driver. The truck skidded to a stop and Joe barreled out of the cab.



Zane lowered the shotgun.



“I saw the fire,” Joe stuttered when he realized Zane had almost shot him.



“Got bigger problems than that.” Zane knelt back down to peer under the truck.



A bullet hit the door, striking inches from his ear. He hit the dirt. “Jesus!”



Another bullet impacted where his head had been.



“Zane, go!” Ty yelled. “He’s in the corral, get inside!”



Zane and Joe scurried around the truck to the other side, putting it between them and the sniper in the corral. Zane looked under the truck to see Ty lying flat, sawing at the jagged piece of his cast that had caught on the undercarriage.



“Come on, Ty.”



“It’s not exactly easy under here. How close is the fire to the gas tank?”



“Too close. Come on, baby.”



Ty yanked at his arm, but his elbow just hit the ground. He couldn’t find any leverage to get free, and the knife was small and dull.



“It’s not coming free.”



“Come on, Ty!”



A shot pinged off the top of the truck.



“Where’s Cody?” Ty asked through gritted teeth.



“I don’t know.”



“We were heading out to look for the cavern under the pump house when the gunfire started. They either shot him or he shot me.”



“What?” Joe shouted as he flattened to look under the truck as well.



“Jesus Christ!”



“What cavern?” Joe demanded, his voice going higher.



“Mark’s inside, it’s not him,” Zane told Ty.



“Then it’s got to be Cody!” Ty shouted. He yanked at his hand in frustration, to no avail.



Zane reached under the truck to see if he could help, but Ty was too far away. His fingers just barely grazed Ty’s shoulder, and no matter how much he stretched, Zane couldn’t grasp him. It was his worst fear come to life, watching helplessly as his lover struggled to get free.



“What the hell are you talking about?” Joe demanded.



“Someone’s been moving drugs on the ranch,” Zane said through gritted teeth.



“And you thought it was Mark?”



“It’s not. But whoever it is has Sadie.”



“I told you we should have cut this fucking thing off, Zane!” Ty yelled, his voice cracking with frustration.



“I’m sorry!”



There was a scream from inside.



“Go, Zane,” Ty urged as he continued sawing at the cast.



Zane was torn between staying there to cover Ty, and going inside to protect his family. He hesitated.



Ty turned his head, his eyes shadowed. “Go, Zane! Go!”



Zane stared at him for a frozen moment, then pushed off the ground and ran for the front door, Joe on his heels. Shots chased them up the steps. Pain seared through his thigh and he stumbled, pitching forward through the door. He rolled across the marble, a streak of blood following him. He grasped at the back of his leg and his hand came away bloody.



Joe kicked the door shut, then knelt with him and began yanking off his belt to staunch the flow of blood.



“Dad!” Zane called out.



“We’re okay!” Harrison shouted back from somewhere in the recesses of the house. Several rooms in the middle of the house had no windows. They’d be safe unless the house caught on fire.



Harrison and Mark hurried out of Harrison’s study, both carrying a shotgun and a rifle, and Harrison knelt next to Zane as Joe pulled the belt tight around Zane’s thigh. Zane shouted in pain, but Joe paid him no mind as he fastened it.



Harrison put his hand on Zane’s shoulder. “Where you hit?”



“Leg. I don’t know if it’s a bullet or a ricochet.”



“Where’s Grady?” Mark asked as they helped Zane off the floor.



“Stuck under the truck. There’s a sniper firing from the corral.”



Harrison’s grip tightened on Zane’s arm. “Where’s Cody?”



“We think he’s in the corral,” Zane said, voice tight.



“What?” Harrison and Mark both cried.



“Hold on, if Ty was with the tiger, and then Cody was with Ty, who has Sadie?” Joe asked. He looked so distraught that his best friend might be behind this that even his mustache seemed to be drooping. His mind was still sharp though, and Zane could see anger and the embers of revenge starting to burn in his normally placid eyes.



Zane shook his head. He had no answer.



The fire in the barn was gaining power, roaring and crackling, and there were men outside shouting over the noise. It was impossible to make out what they were saying.



Zane pulled away from his dad and limped toward a window. He used the barrel of his rifle to push the lace curtain away and peered out. The truck was still on fire, the flames licking ever closer to the gas tank. Whether Ty was still under it or not was anyone’s guess. Three men stood in the yard, shouting at the house. Why wasn’t Ty firing from under the truck? He had the perfect vantage point.



As the fire grew stronger, it illuminated them. They all wore bandanas and hats to hide their faces, like old-time outlaws robbing a bank. One of them held Sadie in his arms. She had her head buried in his shoulder, grasping his neck for dear life.



Anger flooded Zane so fast and hot that his vision went white. Now he understood why Ty hadn’t fired from his position under the truck.



“My baby,” Mark whispered. The desperation in his voice tore at Zane’s heart.



“Garrett!” Blue Bandana yelled over the sound of the fires burning.



“You recognize them?” Zane asked his father.



Harrison shook his head. “Hard to say.”



Zane looked from Sadie to the truck, his heart hammering away. He tried to decide how much time they had before the fire reached the gas tank and it blew, or before it reached the undercarriage and Ty.



“We just want to talk, Harrison!” Red Bandana called out.



“That’s what the telephone is for, you bastards!” Harrison shouted through the glass.



Zane grabbed him and yanked him away from the window, but the men outside didn’t fire. Zane and the others pressed against the wall, waiting. There was movement outside, scuffling and talking and cursing. Every second they waited was a second Ty didn’t have. And then there was Sadie.



A gunshot cracked, then another. Zane jumped with each one. When he glanced out the window, one of the men was at the truck. They’d found Ty. Zane lurched toward the door, but Joe grabbed his shoulder to keep him from going out there. Another shot came from the truck, and then Blue Bandana stood and began pulling on one end of a lasso.



He dragged Ty out from under the truck. He may as well have grabbed a crab by the wrong end, though, because as soon as Ty was free of the undercarriage and sliding across the gravel on his back, he was fighting. He was also yelling at Sadie as the other two Bandanas fought to flatten him. Sadie lifted her head.



“Run!” Ty yelled. He made a gesture with his hand, jabbing at the air with two fingers before he disappeared under the other two men.



Sadie began to squirm, and the man in the black bandana struggled to hold her. She threw herself back like all children were apt to do when they were pitching a fit, going limp and trying to slither out of his arms. When she couldn’t get loose, she mimicked the motion Ty had made, poking her little fingers into the pressure point at the man’s neck, just as Ty had taught her. Black Bandana let her go and she dropped to the ground.



“Run!” Ty yelled, his voice muffled.



“Come on, baby doll,” Mark shouted. “Run, baby!”



Sadie crawled a few yards, then pushed to her feet and darted toward the house.



Mark dropped his gun and ran for the front door, yanking it open and leaping down the front steps in a single bound. In the driveway, Ty lurched to his feet and threw himself into the man with the shotgun, sending the shot wild and forfeiting his chance to get away in favor of covering Sadie’s flight.



Mark grabbed her at the front of the burning truck and turned with her, shielding her from the gunfire and whisking her inside. Joe slammed the door behind them. A hail of bullets followed and they all took cover. Mark ducked out of the way with Sadie in his arms. There was more shouting from outside, and Zane knew without having to look that Ty was suffering for the little girl’s escape.