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)
His cousin let out a deep sigh and sat on the desk. “Oh, Ned… I really wish we’d met in different circumstances. For years, I believed that you’d been framed, that you couldn’t have done all those terrible things they accused you of, but now it turns out you were also the Wolfman? Terrorizing innocent folk, stealing from them in the mountains—”
“You have no idea what kind of man your cousin is. He’s got no loyalty, even to his friends,” Cole hissed through his teeth and let go of the bars, back to pacing to reduce the pain of the storm raging inside him.
“Your drink?” Rory reminded him of the tumbler he’d left on the floor in front of Cole’s cage.
“Sometimes a man’s got no choice,” Ned mumbled with a shrug.
His cousin shook his head. “There’s always choice. You really killed that agent, Homer Craig?”
Ned shook his empty tumbler, and only complied with answering once it was filled. “Cole was shot and in pieces, his horse—dead. I had to do what I had to do.”
Cole bit down on his tongue, struggling to breathe. Something inside him, the part that was left of the naive young man he used to be itched to believe Ned, but even if his actions had been motivated by fear for Cole’s safety, they didn’t excuse the months of deception, the broken trust, and the loss of so many souls to the noose.
Back then, Cole would have confessed anything to Ned and had been ready to sacrifice everything for him. His friends. His family. His life, if need be. But Ned never trusted him, and that fact spoiled the loveliest of memories from their time together.
“It was only your third kill that day,” Cole added.
Rory paled, which made his ginger hair seem brighter in contrast. “That young girl at the excavation was your doing too? I understand why you’d go after Butcher Tom, but her?” he whispered.
But why had Ned murdered Tom really? For the money? For an ill-perceived sense of justice? Cole shook his head and cooled his skin against the bars.
Ned slouched. “I didn’t mean to—but what’s done is done.”
Cole spat toward him, but the saliva didn’t reach the other cell, instead landing on the newly swept floor.
Ned retreated to the wall, standing as far away from Cole as humanly possible.
“She was just a young girl, Ned… What were you doing there anyway? Nothing had been stolen,” Rory said, shaking his head, but still prodded, as if the need to add to his crime knowledge was most important. Or maybe he was just a curious cat.
“Even a child can be a threat when you put a shotgun in their hands,” Ned grumbled. “It don’t matter anymore. There is no going back from there, and no redemption for me. I did that. That’s who I am.”
Cole shook his head, once again breaking into laughter, even though he wasn’t amused. He was done with this—with Ned O’Leary, the world, and his own useless self.
Rory’s gaze settled on him for several seconds. “I remember you, Mr. Flores. You told me you knew Jesse James, and then stole Ned’s horse to lure him out.”
Cole made a deep bow, because why the hell not? Justice was served fast in towns so remote. He’d have his final performance tomorrow morning, so practice was in order.
Rory ignored the mocking and spoke on. “You’ve done your fair share of killing too. The way I see it, as someone who lured Ned away from an honest life, you shouldn’t complain about the effects of your actions.”
“It’s not the killing that really offends me,” Cole said, meeting Ned’s gaze again as his throat pulsed with the need he’d harbored for so many years. “I have questions, but he won’t give me answers.”
“You won’t like what you’d hear, and you’d hate me even more, so what’s the point? There’s enough anguish in the world. You drinking that?” Ned pointed to the cup on the floor in front of Cole’s cell in a way that made Cole itch to strangle him.
He scooted down right away, grabbed the tumbler and let the booze fire down his throat in a single gulp that twisted his features. “No. You can’t have it!”
Rory had the audacity to roll his eyes, but then again, there was nothing Cole could do from behind the bars, and aiming a tumbler at him for the sake of leaving a bruise was too ridiculous of a thing to attempt.
“I’m sorry, but this is your last night. Maybe it’s time to bury the hatchet and—”
“Never,” Cole said and tossed the tumbler toward Ned’s cell.
Ned curled up on the bench. It was like seeing the hollow shell of a man Cole used to love, and even though he hated Ned with all his heart, it still hurt to witness how much he’d changed.