Page 76 of Roulette Rodeo (Jackknife Ridge Ranch #1)

ASHES AND SCREAMS

~RAFE~

S omeone is shaking me, desperate hands gripping my shoulders hard enough to bruise.

The world swims in and out of focus like I'm underwater, drowning in thick syrup that won't let me surface. Voices echo from somewhere far away, distorted and urgent, but I can't make out the words through the fog in my head.

"Rafe! RAFE! Come on, wake up!"

I know that voice. Should know it. But thinking is like swimming through molasses, every thought taking enormous effort to form. Someone was calling me earlier. Red? Was it Red? We were talking about something important. She needed to run. Why did she need to run?

My head pounds with the kind of headache that comes from the worst hangovers, but multiplied by ten.

Nausea rolls through me in waves, and I have the vague memory of drinking something.

Whiskey? The renovation guys had brought whiskey.

Some special release they wanted to share, a toast to the project. ..

The memory sharpens suddenly, like a camera coming into focus.

The construction workers. Three of them, all smiles and enthusiasm about the barn renovation.

They'd seemed so genuine, so excited about the project.

Had the plans spread out, measuring tapes, legitimate contractor paperwork.

And the whiskey—some rare Kentucky bourbon they said they'd been saving for a special occasion.

We'd all had a glass. Just one. A toast to new beginnings, to moving forward, to letting go of the past.

Then... nothing. Darkness. Floating.

We'd been drugged.

Something sharp pinches my arm, like a needle piercing skin.

Cold spreads from the injection site, racing through my veins like ice water.

It's not pleasant—actually burns as it moves through my system—but with it comes clarity.

The fog starts to lift, the syrup thinning, letting me claw my way back to consciousness.

My eyes snap open, and I immediately regret it. The world is too bright, too loud, too much. I'm on the ground, grass beneath me, and someone's holding me steady. My vision focuses on a face—male, mixed features, unusual amber eyes that I recognize but can't quite place.

"That's it," the man says, voice steady despite the chaos around us. "Come back. Fight through it."

Malrik. That's his name. Red's friend from Vegas, the omega who owns the gym. But why is he here? Why are there people in firefighter gear running past us? Why do I hear sirens?

"Hurry!" A woman's voice—Poppy, I think—calls from somewhere to my left. "More sirens coming! The ambulances are almost here!"

Ambulances? Why do we need ambulances?

I try to sit up, but Malrik keeps his hands on my shoulders, holding me in place.

My body feels wrong, disconnected, like the signals from my brain aren't quite reaching my limbs properly.

Whatever they gave us—and I'm certain now that we were drugged—it's strong.

Professional grade. The kind of thing you don't just buy on the street.

"What the fuck is happening?" My voice comes out rough, throat raw like I've been screaming. Have I been screaming?

I manage to turn my head, spotting familiar forms nearby. Shiloh is on his back, still unconscious, with Poppy checking his pulse. Talon is stirring slightly, groaning. Corwin is sitting up with help from someone in an EMT uniform, looking as disoriented as I feel.

They're all here. All alive. But...

"Where's Red?" The question comes out sharper than intended, but the absence of her presence is suddenly the only thing that matters.

Malrik doesn't answer, his jaw tightening as he looks away.

"Where is she?" I demand again, trying to push against his hold. My muscles respond sluggishly, but I manage to get partly upright.

He still won't answer, won't meet my eyes. Instead, he looks forward, past me, and something in his expression makes my blood turn to ice colder than whatever they injected me with.

I follow his gaze, and the world stops.

The farmhouse—or what's left of it—is an inferno.

Flames reach toward the night sky like desperate fingers, orange and red and white-hot at the center.

The structure has completely collapsed, just burning wreckage and memories turning to ash.

Firefighters are working to contain it, their hoses creating great arcs of water that seem to do nothing against the hungry flames.

But that's not what makes my heart stop.

It's the fact that Red isn't here. Isn't with us. Isn't anywhere I can see.

"Where's Red?" My voice cracks, desperation bleeding through. "Malrik, where the fuck is Red?"

He still won't answer, and that silence is louder than the roaring flames, louder than the sirens, louder than my own heartbeat hammering in my ears.

"WHERE IS SHE?" I'm shouting now, fighting against his grip with strength I'm pulling from pure panic. "She was at the gym. She was teaching. She was safe!"

"She came back," Poppy says quietly from where she's kneeling beside Shiloh. "Duke—the owner—said she took Luna when you didn't come back for her. Said she was worried."

She came back. She came looking for us.

The implications hit me like a physical blow. Red came back. Found us—how else would we be out here instead of in that inferno?—and then...

"No." The word tears from my throat. "No, no, no. Where is she? WHERE THE FUCK IS RED?"

I'm on my feet now, adrenaline overriding whatever drugs are still in my system. Malrik tries to hold me back, but I shake him off with violence I didn't know I still had in me.

"Where's my omega?" I'm screaming now, the words ripping from my chest. "Let me go! LET ME GO!"

But Malrik is stronger than he looks—that gym-built muscle isn't just for show. He wraps his arms around me from behind, holding me back as I fight to get to the burning farmhouse. To what's left of it. To where she might be.

"You can't," he says in my ear, voice strained from the effort of holding me. "It's too late. The structure's completely collapsed. The firefighters?—"

"I don't give a fuck about the structure!" I'm sobbing now, tears streaming down my face, mixing with soot and sweat. "She's in there! Red's in there!"

"We don't know that," Poppy says, but her voice wavers, and I can hear the lie in it.

Because we do know. The evidence is right here—four alphas pulled from a burning building, arranged safely on the grass. She saved us. Dragged us out somehow, all four of us, despite the size difference, despite the smoke and flames.

And then she went back.

Why did she go back?

"The shrine," I whisper, the realization hitting like another blow. "She went back for the shrine."

For Sophia's things. For the memories I'd been holding onto. For artifacts of a ghost that should have been let go years ago.

"HELP HER!" I scream at the firefighters, who don't even look our way, too focused on containment. "SOMEONE FUCKING HELP HER!"

My voice breaks completely, raw and destroyed. I'm fighting Malrik with everything I have, but the drugs make me clumsy, weak. My omega is in that inferno—burning, dying, already dead maybe—because she went back for things that don't matter, never mattered, not compared to her.

"Please," I sob, legs giving out, only Malrik's grip keeping me upright. "Please, someone help her. That's my omega in there. That's my—she's everything. She's?—"

Shiloh's voice, rough and barely conscious, cuts through my breakdown. "Red?"

He's trying to sit up, Poppy supporting him, and his eyes are wild as he takes in the scene. The burning building. Our positions. Red's absence.

"Where is she?" His voice carries the kind of command that comes from years of military leadership, even drugged and barely conscious. "Where's Red?"

"She saved you," Malrik says quietly. "All of you. Pulled you out somehow. But then..."

"She went back," I finish, my voice hollow. "She went back, and she didn't come out."

Talon is conscious now too, cursing steadily as he processes what's happening. Corwin is on his feet, medical training overriding everything else as he stumbles toward the firefighters, probably demanding information, status reports, something.

But I just stare at the flames, Malrik still holding me back, and scream into the night.

"WHERE'S MY OMEGA?"

The words echo across the ranch, raw and broken and desperate.

Somewhere in that inferno is the woman who saved us, who chose us, who made us whole again after Sophia broke us apart.

The woman who called me 'Daddy Rafe' in front of the entire town just to see me blush.

Who won a renovation for a barn that held nothing but ghosts because she knew it mattered to me.

Who found me at three in the morning in that same barn and didn't judge, didn't push, just sat with me in my grief and offered comfort.

The firefighters are shouting something, pointing at a section of the collapsed structure. There's movement, purposeful now instead of just containment. Did they find something? Someone?

"Red!" I scream again, fighting renewed against Malrik's hold. "RED!"

But there's no answer except the roar of flames consuming everything I should have let go of long ago, possibly taking the one person I can't let go of with them.

"Where's my omega?" I sob, the words barely intelligible now, just pure anguish given voice. "WHERE’S MY OMEGA!?"