It takes us a couple of minutes to heft a tied-up Bradley into the truck. He’d stirred in the middle of the process but thankfully passed out again.
Before I know it, we’re taking the side road that leadsto a few outbuildings and old sheds. Following Grandma Jo’s lead, we hop out of the cab and get to work. We drag Bradley from the truck bed into the Black River Ranch slaughterhouse.
Oh god. The smell.My nose wrinkles in distaste. It’s potent. I haven’t ever been in this building before, and now that I am, I don’t know that I wanna be.
“Let’s strap him to that pillar right over there.” Josie tips her chin toward a metal beam and gestures to a coil of link chain. While we get to work, she pulls out her phone and holds it up to let us know she’s going to make a call.
I keep an ear open as she grits out, “You’re gonna want to put the pedal to the metal. I don’t know how y’all’s little Rivers boy pact works, but John fuckin’ Cena.”
RHETT
37
Toby’s truckskids to a stop in front of the slaughterhouse, tires screeching against the gravel. Before I can kill the ignition, Grandma Jo steps out of the building my grandfather built, her face creased with tension.
Not wasting a second, I jump from the cab before the others. My boots hit dirt, and I barely get the door shut before I bark, “Where is she?”
Jo must note the fear on my face, because she slows her steps and raises her palm. “Calm down, boy. She’s safe. They both are.” Her eyes flick over my shoulder toward Kade. “I sent ’em down to the main house to get some sleep. They’re exhausted, but they’re fine. You don’t need to be fretting.”
The breath I’ve been holding escapes my lungs in a single exhale. “Fuck. Thank you.”
Grandma Jo waves me off, but there’s a glint in her eye—pride or maybe something more feral. “Now that the pleasantries are out of the way, we’ve got bigger fish to fry.”
“Bring me to him.” My voice drops to a dangerous growl. I can already feel my pulse shift as I pack what’s left of my morals away, knowing I’m not going to need them anytime soon. Anticipation claws at my skin. Bradley Hemstock won’t leave this ranch alive, and there’s nothing that would ever make me feel bad about knowing I’ll be the reason why.
Grandma tips her head toward the building. “Follow me, boys.”
The moment we step inside, the air becomes cold, sterile, and damp. It’s the kind of scent that settles under your skin, clinging to your spine like mildew in a crawl space. The fluorescent lights above flicker, bathing the whole place in an unforgiving whitewash that is reminiscent of a horror movie.
Following Grandma Jo’s lead, we pass the hanging rails and hung cattle carcasses, down the center aisle to where she has Bradley tied up like a prized hog on auction day. He’s not hanging from a hook—at least not yet—but he’s chained to a support beam with thick steel restraints. His shirt’s soaked clean through, plastered to his skin, and there’s a hose coiled loose on the ground, still dripping.
“Goddamn,” Cole mutters, mouth twisting in disdain as he stares at the asshole.
Next to his twin, Jace whistles low. “Grams, looks like you’ve been busy.”
Bradley’s head jerks up when he realizes he has an audience. That’s when I see his injuries. There’s a nasty open wound near his knee, blood trickling from his head, his lip is split, and one of his eyes is swollen. Unfortunately, his mouth still works. “You crazy backwoods fucks better untie me!” he spits, teeth pink with blood. “That wrinkly old Beth Dutton is a raging fucking lunatic!”
Grandma doesn’t even flinch at the insult, but I’m sure she’s heard worse in her sixty-something years on this planet. She just reaches for the hose we use to wash the walls down, lifts it, and flips the pressure valve without warning.
The water blasts straight into Bradley’s face, a deafening jet that hits hard enough to make him gag and sputter. He’s choking, unable to catch a breath, as he twists in the restraints and flounders like a drowned rat.
“Jesus,” Cole coughs through a laugh. “Grams, is waterboarding him really necessary?”
Her eyes snap to his, and she shrugs, shutting off the valve with an easy twist. “Well, if he’d learn to shut his trap, I wouldn’t have to make him.”
Behind me, Kade snorts. “Reason four thousand eight hundred and seventy-nine why I love this woman.”
Ignoring their chuckles, I take a few steps forward, standing square in front of the bastard who thought it wise to show up here. My eyes narrow, gaze darkening to a dangerous glare as I stare him down while water drips from his chin and hits the tile with sharp little taps. “You’d be smart to follow her orders and keep your fucking mouth shut. Josephine Rivers doesn’t take kindly to disobedience.”
Bradley’s eyes finally lock on mine. That smug sheen is gone now, replaced with something rawer. He recognizes the shift in the air, and he knows what’s coming.I’m going to kill him, and there’s not a goddamn thing he can do to stop me.
Spinning on my heel, I face my grandmother and nod once toward the door. “Thanks for holding down the fort. But I can take it from here.”
She acknowledges me with a dip of her chin, then reaches up and pats my cheek. “Do what you gotta do, baby. And remember, sometimes it’s perfectly acceptable to be the judge, jury, and executioner. Especially when the person on trial already reserved their seat in hell.”
I acknowledge her with a dip of my chin, then Cole and Jace move to either side of her, each offering an arm. “We’re gonna take care of Toby’s truck, and then we canstart digging into this asshole’s digital footprint.” Cole smirks, gesturing toward Bradley.
“We’ll drop you off at the house on the way, Grams,” Jace offers, placing a hand at the base of her back to guide her toward the door.
