I sighed and took the jacket from Tate. My legs were like blocks of ice and my fingers were red. I stuffed my arms in the sleeves and zipped the jacket up under my chin.
As soon as I had it on, the Latino grabbed my arm and muttered in a thick accent, “My name’s Montague. Come with me, por favor.”
He didn’t give me a chance to argue or even agree. Holding onto my arm, he dragged me through the crowd. Tate followed behind us, almost stepping on my heels to stay close. People scowled as we passed. One woman reached out and yanked my hair painfully as we walked by.
“Bitch!” she swore.
I yelped and turned to fight her off but Montague gave her a look of warning and she let me go, taking some strands of my hair with her.
He didn’t seem disturbed by the animosity brewing in the crowd. He led Tate and I on, nudging his way through the people. I glanced back over my shoulder a time or two, peering at the woman. I was afraid she would attack again but she hadn’t moved. Her dirty, brown hair fell in her face in limp strands. Her oversized dress hung on her gaunt body like a sack. She was staring at me with malice. It was obvious she wanted to do more than just pull a few strands of hair. She wanted me to suffer. It was there in her eyes.
I stayed close to Montague. He was big enough to clear a path in the angry, eager mob and protect us against people like the woman. But something told me he would hurt Tate or me on command if Adam – his sergeant – ordered it.
I shivered beneath the jacket. The crowd created a warm pocket but the cold still swept around my legs. Montague led us toward what appeared to be the front of the crowd. We were almost there when I saw it.
The tree.
It was a huge oak, maybe a hundred years old. Its massive branches spread out over the people. Dead leaves clung to the limbs – a few fell as we approached. But it wasn’t the tree that held my attention.
It was the rope swinging from it.
My vision blurred. I felt boneless, my knees going weak. I tripped and bumped into a man. He was tall and muscular, towering over me by a foot or more. He wore a dark jacket. The hood was pulled low over his head, leaving only his chiseled jaw exposed. He exuded danger and a don’t-fuck-with-me attitude. Looking down at me, he frowned. His face was shadowed under the hood but I could see bright blue eyes staring down at me with icy reserve. Another person who hated me, I presume?
I recoiled away from him, afraid he would pull a knife or yank his hand out of his jacket pocket and hit me, but Montague tugged me forward.
“Boss wanted you here.”
He set me in a particular spot in the grass like we were rehearsing a damn dance number. When he was satisfied, he snapped his fingers at Tate and pointed to the ground next to me. My little brother gave the big Latino a suck-this glare but stepped next to me, standing in the place the man indicated.
I could care less about where I stood or if Tate was giving the man attitude. My gaze was fixed ahead. My fingers went cold. A great weight settled on my chest.
Tate deflated and seemed to forget about being defiant when he saw what was in front of us. “Shit.”
The cold wind whipped my dress, plastering it against my body. A shiver passed over my skin. I didn’t feel any of it. There was a disconnect between my brain and my body. All I could do was stare at the rope hanging in front of me.
The wind made it swing gently. Little creaking sounds came from it. Bile rose up in my throat. I was going to be sick. They were going to hang Cash from the rope.
And they were going to make me stand there and watch.
Oh god. The murmurs of people behind me faded. I felt dizzy and had trouble swallowing. Memories bombarded me, hitting me from all sides.
I was back in Luke’s car. It was wrapped around a tree. My neck hurt. Blood dripped from my nose. I could still feel the pain if I closed my eyes tight enough. Every muscle had ached, every inch of me had been bruised.
I had managed to get the door open and fall out. Gravel bit into my palms. The wind had been whistling through the trees that night. I remember aching all over as I limped around the Mustang. One minute Luke had been telling me to put my seat belt on and the next…
I was screaming.
Then I was in an old house, fighting to get Paul off me. I heard the boom. I saw the gun. I watched a red blossom spread over Nathan’s shirt. My older brother – the one that always watched over me – was dying.
And all I wanted to do was scream.
I wanted to do that now as I stood in front of the hanging tree. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs. Shout at God to stop taking people I loved away from me. But I couldn’t do anything but stand there and watch that swinging rope.
Waiting to take someone else away from me.
A choked sob caught me unaware. I slapped a hand over my mouth to cover it but another one escaped then another. Tears burst from my eyes. My chest hurt like someone was tearing into me. I cried. I struggled to breathe.
Tate put his arm around me when I would have fallen to my knees. Montague sidled closer and looked down at me with worry. I could feel the tall man in the hoodie behind me, looming close and staring at my back. I wished he did have a knife. Then he could end my life before I had to watch what was about to happen.
A shout of excitement went up around me. I glanced back like everyone else around me. Through a blur of tears, I saw Frankie leading a group of men through the crowd. There were six of them and they were being welcomed like saints. People slapped Frankie on the back and he stopped to shake hands with a few. As I watched, one mother held her swaddled infant daughter up proudly for Frankie to touch. He ran his finger over the rosy cheek and smiled, catching my eye from across the crowd. His gaze was full of merriment and a sort of dark satisfaction. Turning away from the mother and child, he strolled through the crowd toward me.
“Revenge, how sweet it is,” he boomed out above the excited chatter of the crowd.
A shiver that had nothing to do with the cold traveled over me. Passing me without a word, Frankie nodded at me. I didn’t even have the strength or courage to glare.
The hooded man behind me stared at Hilltop’s leader with revulsion. His fists flexed and clenched. I could almost feel the hatred rolling off him in waves. I blinked, wondering if I was seeing things. One of the town’s men wasn’t brainwashed by the almighty militia leader? I tilted my head and studied him closely. His blue eyes flicked to me then slid away.
I turned my attention to the men following Frankie, dismissing the man in the hood. Behind Hilltop’s leader was one of the men Cash had punched that morning. His nose was tinged red and he looked disgruntled, glaring at everyone as he walked by. When I saw the next man in line, I sucked in a breath. It was David.
He looked older than he had last night. His face was a stark white and dark circles were under his eyes. He looked haggard. Lost of all hope. Glancing at me, he tried to smile but it only came out as a grimace instead.
I looked down. In his hand, he held a Bible. My face turned ashen. My stomach rolled. He was going to pray over Cash’s hanging.
My knees started to buckle. The world started to tilt. Tate gripped me harder and held me up. Without him, I would have fallen to the ground.
Frankie stopped in front of the rope and gave it a good tug. I thought I would lose the contents of my stomach – which wasn’t much since I hadn’t eaten in twenty-four hours. Tucking my chin into the jacket, I said a silent prayer that a miracle would happen and Cash would be spared.
Frankie turned to the crowd and held up a hand. “Friends, family. Quiet please.”
The people quieted. A baby cried. The tree above us moved in the wind. Frankie waited until all attention was on him then cleared his throat and began.
“We have all suffered since the war began. We have all known heartache and hardship. But as a community we have pulled together and made a new beginning. A place of welcome. We have opened our arms to our fellow man and shared our bounties with them. But as we have lear
ned, sometimes our generosity and love is abused and destroyed through crimes too painful to discuss. These people must be punished so they don’t commit the same wrongdoings on other great Americans like us. Killing a man is never a glorious thing but the country must have laws. We must have consequences. That is why we are gathered here today. Consequences.”
He turned at the sound of men approaching. Tate stiffened beside me. A murmur went through the crowd. I followed Frankie’s gaze and felt like a bullet hit me all over again.
It was Cash.
His hands were tied behind his back. Adam was behind him, pushing him toward the tree. New bruises covered his jaw and cheekbones. Blood was crusted under his nose. His eyes darted over the crowd until he found me. I took a step toward him but Montague stopped me with a hand to my arm. Cash never took his eyes off me as Adam shoved him to the rope.
I choked back a sob, shaking. Cash heard it and gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down in his throat. His gaze drifted over the crowd, all emotions hidden. But I saw it – there in his eyes – worry. It was there quickly then disappeared, replaced by acceptance. He was ready to die.
He faced the crowd proudly, his shoulders straight, his gaze ahead. No. No. This is not happening. This is not happening. I put a hand over my mouth, muffling my cries. My eyes brimmed with fresh tears. My body shook with more than just chills.
Frankie pointed at Cash, his voice gruff and booming over the wind. “This man took a life that would’ve led us to victory. He ended a soul that would have brightened our future. That’s why he needs to be hanged today. Consequences, my friends. We have laws and he broke them. He must pay for his crimes today.”
The crowd cheered. The people on the other side of Tate shook their fists in the air. Tate eased closer to me and looked down at me with fear.
I grabbed his hand and squeezed it tight. My heart raced. Tears fell down my icy cheeks. I watched as Frankie turned and walked behind Cash.
Cash met my eyes as Frankie placed the rope over his head. I let out a sob and put the back of my hand over my mouth, cutting off the sound.
Cash didn’t flinch when Frankie tightened the noose around his neck. He didn’t blink when the crowd grew louder. He just kept his gaze on me, unwavering and unmoving.
I started shaking my head, my lips trembling. This isn’t real. It isn’t real. Frankie walked back beside Cash and faced the crowd.
“Ladies and gentlemen, this man killed my son. It is time for him to hang.”
He motioned to two men standing on the other side of Cash. They stepped forward and grabbed the rope hanging from the tree branch. One wrapped the end around his waist for leverage and the other grasped the rope just ahead of him.
I dropped my hand from my mouth and looked into Cash’s eyes. The world seemed to stop. It was just him and me.
“I love you,” I whispered right before the men pulled the rope.
Chapter Thirty–Seven
Cat
It happened in seconds. The men pulled. The rope went taut. Cash jerked.
And the world exploded in a rain of gunfire.
The crowd went crazy. There were screams and shouts. People started ducking and running in all directions. I was pushed and shoved and almost fell to the ground. A shot rang out over my head.
Confusion and fear caused mass chaos. The thundering sound of galloping horses came from behind me. Amid the screams, I heard a yelp. One of Frankie’s men fell to the ground, an arrow buried in his heart.
A rider on horseback came barreling through the terrified crowd. He had a crossbow raised and aimed at the men surrounding Cash.
Gavin.
I had never been so happy to see anyone in my life before. He peered down the bow and released another arrow, hitting a man in the chest. Before the man fell, Gavin was yanking a gun from his holster, looking like an outlaw on a rampage. He raised the gun and fired off a shot as his horse danced under him nervously.
Tate grabbed my arm and yanked me out of the way as a man roared and sprinted past us toward Gavin. I glanced back at Cash in enough time to see Adam withdraw a knife from under his jacket and slashed it through the ties binding Cash’s wrists. As Cash untangled his hands, Adam turned in enough time to avoid being attacked by a militia soldier. Ducking, he swung hard, catching the man with a powerful uppercut. When the man went down, Adam tossed the knife to Cash.
Cash caught it in one hand and yanked the rope off his neck with the other. He palmed the knife and turned just as Frankie charged him.
“You piece of…!” Frankie dove at Cash, his face twisted in fury.
Cash moved so fast, I didn’t see it. His arm whipped out. The knife went flying. Frankie stumbled to a stop. His eyes went wide. He stared down at his chest, open-mouthed. For the first time ever, I saw fear in his eyes. The blade was buried to the hilt in his torso, a red blossom spreading.
He dropped to his knees and sank back on his haunches. Cash reached him in two quick strides and grabbed a wad of his gray-streaked hair. He yanked the leader’s head back and reached down for the knife handle sticking out of the man’s chest. It made a sickening, sucking sound as Cash pulled it free and laid the blade against the the older man’s jugular.
“This is for my unborn son.”
I squeezed my eyes shut as he dragged the edge along Frankie’s throat. A second later there was the sound of gurgling and the thud of a body hitting the ground.
As shouts and screams came around me, I peeled my eyes open. People were running and fighting everywhere. Tate was pushing a man away. Montague was standing guard over me, ready to attack.
I avoided looking at the figure laid out under the old oak tree and focused on Cash. He was trying to get to me but someone jumped in his path. A man in overalls and a John Deere hat. Cash threw a punch and caught the man in the temple but the stranger recovered quickly and pulled a pistol.
“Cash!” I screamed.
He swung and knocked the gun out of the man’s hand with a swift sweep of his arm. The man made a dive for his weapon but Cash was on him in seconds. He threw the man onto his back and buried his knife into the man’s shoulder.
The man screamed and thrashed under Cash. Cash slid the knife out of him just as David let out a hoarse cry. He was wrestling with a short, stocky man on the ground. The man had the upper hand. He was at least a decade younger and he had a gun in his hand.
Cash jumped to his feet. The preacher had saved our lives. Now Cash was going to save his.
David wasn’t the only one in trouble. Adam was fighting off the giant, Reed. He had lost his weapon and Reed had him in a deadly chokehold. Adam’s face was turning purple by the second and his feet were scrambling to get a foothold on the ground. He fought the big man vigorously but Reed was a bull instead of a wolf like Adam. Stronger but not so smart.
Montague let out a growl at seeing his sergeant in trouble. He pulled out his gun. “Stay here with your brother, little chica,” he muttered before sprinting through the crowd to Adam.
People shouted with fury. In front of me, two men pulled out guns and raced forward. Tate grabbed the front of my jacket. “Get behind me, sis.”
He shoved me behind him and widened his stance, protecting me from the violence and mayhem. We were on our own. Cash and Adam were fighting. Gavin was taking out men from atop his horse yards away.
I glanced around frantically, looking for Cash and a way out. That’s when I saw him. A man with hate in his eyes charging toward Tate and me. I clasped the back of Tate’s jacket and tried to yank him out of the way but he was holding steady, waiting…
“Tate! Go! Go!” I shouted.
His fist shot out, a solid punch to the man’s nose. The stranger’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and he toppled backwards like a downed tree.
Tate shook his hand. “Damn, fuck. That was like hitting a fuckin’ concrete wall.”
I let go of his shirt and searched for Cash. Where is he? Where is he? Growing frantic, I raised up on m
y toes. There.
He had taken out David’s attacker and was fighting other men. They seemed to be descending on him in droves. I shot forward to rush to him but someone grabbed me around the waist and yanked me back. I fought and scratched at his arm. He growled and spun me around.
It was the man in the dark hoodie.
Tate whipped around to save me but the man gripped his shirt and wrenched him close.
“Cool it, kid,” he rumbled in a raspy voice.
I tried to smack him in the face but he let go of Tate and grabbed my wrist in a bone-crushing grip. With his other hand, he yanked the hood off. Blue eyes the color of a cloudless sky stared down at me. A whiskered jaw clenched and flexed. I was held spellbound for a second, staring back at him, until I realized he wasn’t going to let me go.
His fingers tightened on my wrist and he glanced at Tate. “Both of you, come with me.”
Another time, another place, I would have had to pick my jaw off the ground. The man was gorgeous. He had unruly, sun-kissed brown hair and was rugged and his eyes were so piercing blue, they were breathtaking. He was tall and muscular as well, but I didn’t know him and he wasn’t Cash so that made him my enemy.
Tate seemed be willing to go with him but I dug in my heels and clawed at his hand wrapped around my wrist. “Let. Me. Go!”
He let out an impatient sigh and peeled my fingers off his hand. “Settle down. I’m here to help you. My name’s Ryder.”
Like that means anything to me.
“Well, fuck me,” Tate whispered, staring at the man in wonderment.
Seeing my blank expression, Ryder rolled his amazing eyes and scoffed. “Shit, the little fucker didn’t tell you about me? Figures. Cash is a…friend. Let’s just leave it at that. Now, are you going to come with me or do I have to carry you? Your choice.”
I furrowed my brow. Ryder. There was something familiar about his name… My gaze flicked behind him at movement.
“Watch out!” I yelled.
He swung around just as a man came at him with a knife. Ryder raised his gun and fired. A stream of smoke rose from the end of the gun, blinding me for a moment. The boom muffled my hearing, making the shouts around me muted. When the smoke cleared, I saw the man. He was laid out on the ground but there was another one charging right behind him.