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Be strong.
I couldn’t help but wonder, though, what if I wasn’t strong enough?
Twenty-Three
Sloane
I felt numb and cold as I stumbled over the rocks and twigs on the path back to the house. A few tree branches smacked my face, but I didn’t care.
Hushed whispers filtered around me, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying. I had tunnel vision. All I could see was the path ahead of me.
I couldn’t look back.
Lincoln, along with my two brothers, carried my father’s body through the woods. Enforcers and other members of the pack had fallen in line when they saw us.
My mom walked with my dad, holding his hand while speaking to him softly.
My bottom lip quivered, and I bit it so hard that blood flooded my mouth. I swiped my tongue over the cut and exhaled.
Keep it together, Sloane.
I sucked in a deep, shaky breath that made my whole body shake.
Smoke hung in the air, so strong that I could taste its bitter acid on my tongue. I crinkled my nose as I squinted through it.
The dense brush and smoke made it impossible to see the house. My pulse roared with each step I took. A cold chill zipped down my spine. I was almost to the opening in the trees.
I held my breath, and my steps faltered, growing slower as I pushed my leaden feet forward.
The trees split, and my resolve shattered. A black plume billowed into the dark-blue sky. Below it, orange glowed from where the fire still burned.
We couldn’t lose the homestead. My father’s things were there. Family pictures. Everything that we owned. Everything to remember Darrin and my father was in that house.
I picked up my pace, which only made my footfalls falter more. You’d think I was drunk. My ankle gave out, and my foot went sideways.
I cursed under my breath and righted myself. I held my head high but couldn’t stop the groan from escaping my lips.
The air grew warmer as we drew closer to the house. I pushed through the last bit of brush, and my heart sank and my shoulders slumped.
Flames consumed the whole house. My childhood home. Gone. Destroyed in just an hour, or however long it had been.
And my father was dead, right before my eyes.
Several enforcers used the garden hoses, spraying the grassy areas around the house. We were lucky it had been raining recently. Otherwise, the fire could have been worse and spread into the trees and to other buildings. It still could spread if we weren’t careful.
A small flicker of flames in the grass crept toward the trees.
I couldn’t let this land burn too.
I glanced over my shoulder. “We need to hurry and put out the fire before it gets to the trees.”
I didn’t wait for anyone to respond before sprinting for the fire. There were no more hoses, but my mom’s garden was close. I prayed the soil would smother it.
I scooped large handfuls into my palms and then tossed it over the flames. They flickered and started to die down. Hopefully, it would work.
I crouched and grabbed more, throwing gobs of dirt over the flames as fast as I could. Others joined me, and soon, the remnants of the fire were out.
I fell on my butt as the others circled around the house.
