Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 107118 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107118 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
“I love you,” I whispered. I smiled, my bitter-tasting tears bursting on my tongue as they dripped down my face. It was surprising how quickly my heart had claimed both his and Hush’s. Like it had been looking for them, sifting through the few I had met, sleepily, until it had been awakened by a smooth-talking Cajun in a Stetson and a damaged soul with crystal-blue eyes. “I . . . I just want you to know,” I said softly, “that . . . that . . . I love you.” I smiled, missing the other third who made our peculiar triangle complete. “And Hush,” I added, the words catching in my throat.
Cowboy dropped his head, and then, raising it, said, “Je t’aime, cher.” He cleared his throat. “And I know Valan does too.” His eyes frosted over with something that looked like steely resolve. “You hold on to the fact that he’s out there. That he loves you just as much as me. If you lose faith, if . . .” Cowboy’s gaze found Michelle. His nose flared and his eyes closed for a split second. “No matter what he does to you. Hold on.” The door opened and the Nazi came back through, a light in his eyes that wasn’t there before.
He walked purposefully to Cowboy. I held my breath, bracing for the surge of devastation I was sure was about follow. But I didn’t know how to find that brace. How the hell do you prepare for your heart to be pulled from your chest and torn into a million pieces?
Cowboy straightened his back, his hands and feet taut in their binds as the Nazi stood before him. I wanted to cry at the dignity a person could muster when facing certain death. Cowboy looked straight into the eyes of his killer. My vision blurred as tears like I’d never shed before drowned my eyes. My heart beat a sloppy, unmelodic rhythm in my chest. Time stood still. The knife was lifted into the air. I gasped a final easy inhale of air, knowing that each breath after the knife fell would be laborious and heavy to my lungs. Then, just as I stilled, waiting for my soul to be ripped in two, a large figure ran in front of me and stabbed a knife into the Nazi’s neck.
What the hell?
The man, dressed all in black, long black hair running past his shoulder blades, turned and smiled. I breathed fast, eyes wide, wondering what was happening, and then a voice spoke, sounding like heaven itself. “Älskling.”
“Hush,” I whispered in disbelief. Hush ran into the room. He ran to me and put his hands on my face. He searched my eyes, his blue gaze warm like the sun. My hands were suddenly free, as were my ankles. My numb hands found their way to Hush’s cheeks, knowing exactly where they belonged. My fingers shook on his face. Hush held my wrists, his eyes closing as if in silent prayer. A hand landed on his shoulder. Hush snapped his head back, his eyes closing for a second time in so many seconds. Hush turned and pulled Cowboy to his chest. Cowboy grunted, and Hush immediately drew back.
Hush looked at his hands . . . his now-bloodied hands. He turned Cowboy around, and I watched his face blanch. Then he looked at me again. The man who had killed the Nazi was helping me to my feet. I glanced at the tattooed emblem on his arm, snatching my hand back when I saw the Diablo patch. A flash of anger cut through me. They’d killed my momma.
But Hush snapped me from it when he gently turned me around. I didn’t want to. I knew the effect this would have on him. I knew this would just be another stab into his already punctured, bleeding heart.
I knew when he saw the carving. He sucked in a breath. When I turned back around, it was like a shutter being pulled; his face adopted the same mask he’d worn when he’d first come to the ranch.
“Hush.” I reached for his hand. Hush turned away and then stopped dead. He stared at Michelle’s body. Cowboy put his hand on Hush’s shoulder. The Diablo moved to the Nazi to make sure he was dead. I swayed on the spot, my body beginning to shut down in shock.
“Garcia did it,” Cowboy told Hush, leaning on his best friend for support.
A hand suddenly wrapped around my throat and dragged me backward. “Some of my best work, even if I do say so myself.”
Hush, Cowboy, and the Diablo spun around as one. A knife was at my throat. Juan’s arm was wrapped tightly around me, and I gripped it simply to stay on my feet. I knew if I moved, if I fell, the blade would split my throat.