Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 35499 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 142(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35499 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 142(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
I make it to the door and I'm just about to pull it open, when the sound of hoof beats hits my ears.
Fuck.
I took thirty seconds too long. That break, thirty seconds, might be what stands between life and death today.
I grab an old piece of wood lying by the collapsed fireplace, slide up to the wall, lean my back against the logs, and wait.
The door swings open. Wood creaks, and when the golden hour of light floods in, I don't hesitate.
I lunge from my position, swinging the broken piece of lumber with everything I've got left. My body screams in protest, ribs grinding against each other like they're trying to puncture whatever's left of my lungs.
"Fuck—!" A voice shouts as my makeshift weapon connects. Not as solid as I wanted, but enough to send the intruder stumbling backward.
"Wait! Legion! I came to help!"
Colt Ashby. The pretty one. The one who wasn't there last night.
Doesn't matter. He's still an Ashby.
I tackle him to the ground, ignoring the wet crack in my chest. We hit hard, and I'm on top of him, blood from my wrists dripping onto his expensive shirt. His face is all wide eyes and shock beneath me.
"You fucking Ashbys," I snarl, pushing my forearm into his throat. "Think you own everything. Everyone. This is one fuck up too many."
He tries to speak, but I'm pressing too hard. Good. Let him feel what it's like not to breathe. Let him know what it feels like when someone decides your life isn't worth shit.
"It wasn't me," he chokes out when I ease up just enough. "I've been out of town. Ranch hand called—told me what happened."
I study his face, looking for the lie. His eyes are clear. Panicked, but not deceitful.
"Then what the hell are you doing here?" My voice is a low growl, barely human.
"Because this is wrong," he chokes, and there's something in his voice that sounds like the truth. "I came to help. Marcus has lost his mind. Cash and Wyatt crossed a line."
I ease back, just a fraction. Just enough that he can take a full breath.
"You're still a piece of shit," I tell him, standing slowly, feeling every broken rib shift under my skin. "You're a dirty fucking piece of shit Ashby! Do you have any goddamn idea what they're doing to Savannah right now? What your own blood is letting happen to her while you've been conveniently out of town?"
Colt sits up, rubbing his throat, choking out words. "Outside. Three horses. One for each of us."
"Each of us?"
"You, me, and Savannah." He tries to get up, but pauses to cough first.
I do not feel guilty.
Once he rightens himself, he nods toward the door. "We need to go. Now. Cash and Wyatt will be coming back. There was a delivery at the ranch they needed to take care of, but it won't take long. They're probably already on their way."
None of that sounds good.
"Cash said Marcus was keeping her at North Ridge," I say, watching his reaction.
"I know where she is." Colt backs up with his hands out like he's warding me off. "They told me everything. Marcus has been keeping her sedated for three days now."
Three days.
The words hit me like another boot to the chest. Three fucking days I've been tied to that post while Savannah's been—
No. Don't think about it. Not yet.
My blood turns to ice in my veins. Cold. Focused. This isn't rage anymore. This is something deeper. "If you're lying to me," I say, my voice so calm it scares even me, "I will peel the skin from your bones. Slowly. While you watch."
Colt nods, looking me straight in the eyes. "I know. I know, Legion. Trust me, I know.”
There’s somethin’ about the way he says my name. Something… I dunno. Real in it.
“You don’t know shit,” I tell him. “You don’t know me at all, Colt Ashby. What you think you know isn’t even a fraction of the raging hell I’m capable of.”
We stare at each other for a few moments. Long enough that I notice… he and Savanah have the same eyes.
“Noted,” he says. “I’m here to help, Legion. Just like the other night, remember? I left the gate open. I let you in to the engagement party. I made it happen. We’re not enemies, Legion. We’re not.”
It’s true. He did let me in. I saw him in Terry that first week I was out. I didn’t even ask to be let in, either. He offered. Why would he do that?
“It wasn’t for me,” I say.
“No,” he agrees. “It wasn’t for you. It was for Savannah. She was dyin’ without you, Legion. Dyin’. And this Marcus fuck… I can’t stand that asshole. Maybe you and I aren’t friends, but we’re not enemies, either. We both want the same thing right now. Get Savannah home safe.”