Page 79 of Roulette Rodeo (Jackknife Ridge Ranch #1)

MIDNIGHT PLOTS AND CHERRY BOMBS

~RED~

T he group chat notification goes off for what feels like the hundredth time in the past hour, and I groan, trying to concentrate on lining up the perfect candy combo. Three more moves and I'll beat this level that's been taunting me since I woke up from my post-dinner medication nap.

I smile despite myself, warmth spreading through my chest that has nothing to do with potential pre-heat symptoms. My alphas are not only alive but recovering well from their smoke inhalation.

They'd been discharged hours ago—the benefits of having a doctor in the pack who could monitor them at home—but visiting hours ended at nine, so they're forced to wait until morning to see me officially.

Red : I'm FINE. Let me crush candy in peace!

The responses are immediate:

Shiloh : There she is

Talon : About time

Corwin : How's the pain level?

Red : Minimal. More annoyed at this level than anything

Talon : Which level?

Red : 347

Talon : Oh that one's a bitch

I put the phone aside, abandoning both the game and the chat to stare at the sterile hospital room. The white walls feel like a blank canvas for my thoughts, and those thoughts are primarily focused on one thing: revenge.

The pieces are falling into place. Marnay made his move, showed his hand, and now I know exactly what kind of game we're playing. But there's one confirmation I need, one final piece of the puzzle before I can execute what's been brewing in my mind since I woke up in that hole.

A soft knock interrupts my planning. The door opens just enough for someone to slip through, and my heart does a little skip when I see Rafe carrying a bouquet of wildflowers—not roses, not something generically expensive, but wildflowers like the ones that grow near the ranch.

In his other hand, a bag that I immediately recognize as being from Molly's bakery.

I have to physically cover my mouth to stop the squeal that wants to escape. The night nurses are strict about visiting hours, and the last thing I need is him getting escorted out by security.

He gives me a look that's part exasperation, part amusement as he crosses to my bed. "What are you doing here?" I whisper-hiss once I trust myself not to shriek with delight.

"You weren't answering in the group chat," he says, setting the flowers on my bedside table with careful precision.

"So you snuck into the hospital? Illegally?"

He rolls his eyes. "Obviously."

I can't help but laugh, though I keep it quiet. "You're insane. But you brought sweets, so I forgive you because this hospital food isn't shit—it's what shit would scrape off its shoes."

He chuckles, that low rumble that I've grown to love, and pulls a chair close to the bed. We eat in companionable silence for a few minutes—maple donuts, those little cream puffs Molly makes special, and what appears to be an entire slice of chocolate cake he somehow fit in the bag.

I'm halfway through demolishing a cream puff when he asks, "Why did you go back inside?"

The question hangs between us, heavy with everything we haven't talked about yet. I set down the pastry, suddenly not hungry.

"The shrine stuff was left behind," I say carefully. "I didn't want it to perish."

He huffs, and there's pain in it. "There was no body, Rowenna. No ashes to retrieve."

"But the items?—"

"YOU are the most valuable thing in our pack." His voice rises slightly, emotion breaking through his usual control. "YOU are our omega who means the universe to us. Only YOU matter, Red! Not some stupid photo and book and... all that fake shit from a relationship that was never real!"

His voice cracks on the last word, and I can see tears gathering in his eyes. "Your life is our world, and... we almost lost it."

My own eyes are getting glassy now, and I have to blink rapidly to keep the tears from falling. "I'm sorry," I whisper.

He sighs, deep and heavy, then stands and carefully leans over to hug me, mindful of the IV and monitors.

I hug him back, breathing in his scent of ice and winter storms that's become synonymous with safety.

He won't understand now why I really went back, why that photo of Sophia was important, but he will.

Once my plan takes effect, everything will make sense.

"You're grounded when all of this is over," he mutters against my hair.

I laugh, pulling back to grin at him. "Aw, too bad. Let me hope I go into heat and I can just be fucked all day long and eat sweets in my nest. Can't ground someone who's biologically indisposed."

He gives me a look of pure annoyance but there's fondness underneath it. "Your heat is actually around the corner."

"Wait, really?"

He nods, settling back in the chair. "That's why you've been running hot. The omega doctor confirmed it—you'll be experiencing it very shortly after you get discharged here. Probably within a day or two."

"So I guess we gotta enjoy that in a vacation home?" I say, already knowing the answer but wanting to pout about it anyway.

"We can't stay at home," I whine, giving him my best puppy eyes.

He groans, running a hand through his hair. "They're still doing the investigation. Arson investigators, insurance people, probably federal agents at this point given the attempted murder aspect."

I amp up the puppy eyes, adding a slight lip quiver for good measure.

"Fine," he caves with another groan. "I'll deal with it. I'll get those fuckers off our property before you go into heat. Somehow."

I grin in triumph, already imagining spending my first heat in our actual home, in the nest I've been carefully building for weeks. "Maybe I should do a health scan with Corwin first, just in case?—"

"You're healthy," he cuts me off.

I frown, confused by his certainty. "How do you know?"

"Corwin did an initial health check when you first arrived, after you passed out when Marnay drugged you at the auction." He pauses, seeming to weigh his words. "He identified the cause of the numbing in your legs and body. It's not genetic."

My heart stops. "What?"

"It was a drug in the suppressants. You have an allergic reaction to one of the components—something that restricts blood flow over time.

I'm assuming your mother was on suppressants back when you were a child, maybe to ensure she didn't go into heat, and the allergic reaction was slowly killing her. "

The pieces click into place with horrible clarity. Mom's gradual weakness, the way she seemed to fade rather than fight whatever was killing her. Not a disease but a reaction to medication she probably thought was keeping her safe.

"You stopped suppressants when you came to us," Rafe continues. "That's why you've had no problems these past few months. Your body's been healing itself."

"So that means..." I can barely get the words out.

"You're perfectly healthy," he confirms, taking my hand. "Safe to have your heat, to bond, to mate, to have children if you want. We're safe, little cherry bomb."

I smirk through the emotional whiplash. "That's the first time you've called me that."

"Yeah, well," he says with a slight smile, "clearly you're a bomb in our lives. Like to detonate more than once, cause maximum chaos."

"The perfect cherry on top, right?"

He winks. "Right."

He stands, leaning down to kiss me softly. It's gentle, careful, but there's heat underneath it—promise for when I'm healed, when we're home, when my heat hits and all this careful distance we've maintained dissolves.

"Thank you for saving my world," he whispers against my lips. "But don't do that shit again because you're our world now."

"I'll try," I whisper back. "But no promises. I am a tad defiant by nature."

He smirks, pressing one more quick kiss to my forehead. "Get some sleep. Real sleep, not candy crush sleep."

"Yes, Daddy Rafe," I say with mock solemnity.

His groan as he leaves makes me giggle.

The moment the door closes behind him, I pull out my phone, but I don't open the game or the group chat. Instead, I wait, counting the seconds. Three minutes pass—long enough for Rafe to clear the hospital—before the door opens again.

Different footsteps this time. Lighter, more arrogant in their cadence. Expensive shoes that click against the linoleum like they're announcing royalty.

I don't look up from my phone, though I'm not actually looking at anything on the screen.

"Well," I say, letting a smirk curl my lips as I finally raise my eyes. "Good evening, Luca."