Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 132512 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 663(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132512 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 663(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Movement caught his eye in the corner of Carol’s open stall, and he bolted for it, rushing through the swinging door as if the devil himself were after him. Only that in this scenario, he was the evil one, and the child curling into a ball behind a pile of hay—the innocent victim.
Cole’s mouth dried, but when another shot hit the ceiling, he cocked his gun and grabbed the boy’s pale locks, forcing him up, away from Carol, who reared in panic, dangerously close to the child.
Dog’s squeal tore through the air, and Cole looked back in time to see Ned storm across the barn, his face twisted in anguish. “No!”
Cole’s insides turned into dense, bitter goo that hurried up his gullet, about to overflow.
Ned would die.
Ned would die!
“I have him, Zeb! I have his son!” Cole roared, dragging his captive toward the barn door, which created a frame around the picture of the burning house.
The shot he’d been fearing didn’t happen, and he gave a shaky exhale, leaving the stall with the asset Zeb had unknowingly pushed into their hands.
“You killed the father. Why not kill the son as well, eh?” Zeb spat through the gap in his clenched teeth but put the shotgun on the floor and raised his hands as the boy sobbed, struggling weakly in Cole’s hold.
Heat burned Cole’s head, and the impulse to look down at Tom's son was almost too strong to resist. He’d made an assumption about the child’s identity when he felt his fingers, but to have it confirmed was a different matter. Zeb had always been blindly loyal and would rather die than risk the boy’s life.
When Dog whimpered on the ground nearby, leaving a trail of blood as he tried to crawl away, Ned didn’t wait for Cole to finish his conversation with Zeb. With a roar of pure anguish, he charged at Zeb like a grizzly.
Cole covered the boy’s eyes without thinking. He was a small thing, younger than Cole had been when he’d first met Tom, with thin limbs and a mop of pale hair. Cole thought of blocking his ears too, but it was no use. Whether the boy heard the force behind Ned’s punches or not, he would know what happened. He would remember their faces. He would remember how they smelled, and once he grew up, he’d want to hunt them down too.
But right now, he was still a boy of no more than ten, too scared to long for vengeance, so Cole cooed, pulling him closer. “It’s all right. We won’t hurt you.”
The child gave a quiet sob, shivering against Cole as if he were seeking protection from the killer of his guardian.
Ned wouldn’t stop roaring as he brought his fists down over and over, even after Zeb had stopped moving. The shadow he cast in the glow of the flames eating his cabin was that of a beast feasting on a fresh corpse, but all Cole thought about when those massive hands swung, hitting flesh and breaking bone, was that Ned hadn’t seriously fought him back in the cabin. His punches had been restrained and meant to release anger rather than force him into submission. But Zeb? Ned had no mercy for him.
When Ned realized the fight was done and sat back, panting over his opponent’s limp form, the barn was painfully quiet, as if even the horses feared the Wolfman’s wrath. The boy stopped his sobbing and clung to Cole, shaking as if he were standing naked in the snow.
“Coley? Coley boy…” Ned cooed, blinking as if he’d just awoken from a trance. Ants crawled on Cole’s back when Ned left Zeb behind and moved toward a shadowed corner of the barn on all fours. His face was the picture of gentleness that didn’t belong on a man who’d just beaten someone to death. “You’ll get through this, boy, I’ve got you, I promise,” he whispered.
Breathless, Cole took a piece of rope out of a satchel by his belt and pulled the boy’s hands back. It felt wrong to subjugate a defenseless child like this, but what was he to do? He couldn’t afford to have the boy run off into the wilderness, because he’d then perish, eaten by wolves or taken by exposure.
The kid tried to pull away, but Cole ignored the incoherent whines he made and led him out of the stall. The air smelled of smoke and blood, but while Cole couldn’t spare Tom’s boy that experience, he covered his eyes with one hand to shelter him from seeing his guardian beaten into a pulp.
Zeb lay sprawled in the doorway, his face covered with a red sheen that looked like resin in the glow of the fire, which roared uncomfortably close. Unlike him, Dog was still alive, but one glance at his bloodied back paw, which had already swollen, bent at an unnatural angle, had Cole biting his lip. Ned kneeled next to his pet, stroking the rough fur, as if he wasn’t ready to acknowledge that the beast that had been his one companion for so long would soon be gone.