“A nasty graze,” I revise. “I’m dizzy, have the world’s loudest headache, but that’s it. An angel helped me to finish the job.”
Her cheeks burn and she rolls her eyes as I pull her against me, kissing her again. She tastes like vengeance, like peace, like actualhope. I sigh against her mouth. “My Hope.”
Twenty-eight
KNOX
Jax will live. It sucks ass. I’m sure he’s seeing stars in Hope’s eyes that aren’t actually there, but he’ll live and that’s better than the alternative. Of course, Gauge isn’t thatlucky. He’s still alive. Jax isn’t the best shot. It looked like he got him in the head, but the bullet is buried in Gauge’s cheek, just under his eye.
He’s still gasping, gaping, his puffy eyes rolling around trying to find something to land on or someone to help him.
“Huh, he’s still holding on,” Dimitri says.
“Yeah, well, strength will fade fast,” I promise.
“Get Coach’s body,” I tell Dimitri and lean down to Gauge.
“I’ll bring it inside,” he says and sprints to the tree we buried him under.
Gauge tries to reach out to me. I snort. “I’m glad you’re not dead. I want you to enjoy the burn. Consider it an appropriate welcome to hell.”
I grab him, toss him over my shoulder, and hear him groan and whimper with every step I take toward the cabin.
I step inside, my eyes landing on the ass I shot earlier. I let Gauge’s body glide off my shoulders and he falls to the ground with a thud.
It doesn’t take long for Dimitri to get inside with Coach’s dried corpse. God, the smell.
He tosses the corpse on top of Gauge and grabs his laptop and bag.
“Cleansing by fire seems appropriate. You got everything?” I ask.
He nods and holds his laptop and the guy’s phone up.
“The kerosene is in my bag,” he says and hands it to me.
I rip open the bag, grab the kerosene, and dump it. This cabin isn’t fit for the living. Too many terrible things have happened in it. If it’s not haunted, it’s cursed. If it’s not cursed, it’ll be a constant reminder to Hope of what happened and it’ll leave a loose string for someone to find.
That’s not an option. Hope isn’t going to have to look over her shoulder anymore. She’s not going to struggle. She’s not going to constantly push herself to outrun her past.
It’s staying dead.
It’s staying quiet.
Jax, Dimitri, and I will make sure of it. We’ve already proved exactly what lengths we’ll go to for her, what we’ll do to protect her, and what happens when someone crosses that line.
Once the floor has a shimmering layer of kerosene down, I flick my lighter. Dimitri motions for us to back up, and I oblige. Once we’re out of the danger zone, I bend down and make sure the kerosene takes light.
It doesn’t take much. One spark and it all goes up. Gauge howls and screams. But the fire is warm, clean, right.
Watching it climb up the sides of the cabin as we edge further away might as well have the same power as watching the ball drop on New Year’s Eve. It’s a new chapter.
Jaxon snorts. “Better than fireworks, huh?”
“My… Coach?” Hope asks.
“They had him out of the grave,” Dimitri answers. “He’s in there too.”
“Dead,” Hope whispers.
