Bile churns in my gut, but I force it down and let the rage take control. “He doesn’t get to breathe the same air as she does. Not anymore. This ends now. Once and for all.”
Kade’s hand drops from my shoulder. His jaw ticks once. “Well then, brother…” He steps back, gesturing to the beaten and bruised prick that deserves to rot in a hell of my making. “Have at it.”
In the back corner of the building, smoke coils in slow, venomous ribbons from the burn barrel. The heat wraps around me before I reach it, air warping, hissing like it knows what’s coming. Buried in the coals like the devil’s own pitchfork is the Black River Ranch branding iron. Our mark. Our legacy.
“It’s ready to go,” Kade mutters from behind me. “Been in there a while. I lit it up just after you left.”
My fist wraps around the long metal handle as heat crawls up my arm like it’s testing me, wondering if I’m man enough to do this.Sure as fuck, I am.
With a few paces, I march across the room, boots echoing off tile. I come to a halt next to Bradley’s limpframe. He’s hanging from the chains, his chin slumped to his chest like he’s already dead, not just passed the fuck out.
The iron pulses in my grip, casting orange light across the blood-slick floor. Every breath I take tastes like smoke and slaughter. The scent of scorched metal and old fear clings to everything.
Following my lead, Kade crosses the room and rips open Bradley’s bloodstained shirt, buttons scattering like teeth on tile.
“Time to rise and shine, motherfucker.” I don’t wait for permission before I drive the hot iron straight into his chest.
The sound Bradley makes rips out of him, raw. A scream so loud it drowns out the echo of his sizzling flesh. I hold our brand there like it’s a fucking ritual.
Noah’s face flashes in my mind—her tears followed by her voice cracking when she said,Give him hell, cowboy.
Smoke rolls off his chest. Skin peeling and bubbling around the raw, angry letters—B. R. R.
“Stoppp! P-ple-please. I can’t—” Bradley sobs. Loud, wrecked, his chest heaving like a dying animal. His head slumps forward, sweat flinging off him in droplets. I step in close, and my hand grabs hold of his throat. The whites of his eyes are swimming in tears as he breathes nothing but the air I allow him.
“You feel that?” I rasp, voice shredded with hate. “That’s just the fuckin’ prologue.”
“I’ll d-d-do whatever you want. Please. I’m s-s-s-orry. I’ll vanish. You’ll n-n-n-never see me again.” The stench of scorched flesh chokes the air, clinging to my throat like smoke-drenched wool. He whimpers something incoherent, maybe a plea, maybe just the pathetic noises of a man learning what helpless really feels like. I let the silence stretch. Let the pain settle into him like rot into a carcass.
Then I move, tearing the tool away from his scorched skin.
Kade doesn’t ask questions—just steps back, giving me space. I stalk to the stainless steel table and run my hand across the knives lined up like church pews. “So many fucking options—boning, skinning, gutting.” I toss a look over my shoulder and ask, “Any preferences, Brad?”
“F-f-f-uck. Please don’t do this.”
“Too late.” Settled with my decision, I lift the curved blade we use to peel hide from muscle. I’ve butchered plenty of animals in this room. None of them deserved it like the beast hanging in front of me now.
Turning on my heel, I approach him slowly, dragging the handle along my thigh. I grab his jaw and force it up. “You still with me, Bradley? C’mon now. Don’t quit on me. Not yet.”
“M-m-m-my dad will come looking for me. He’llmake sure you pay for this.” He panics, trying to pull away, but the chains have him secured tightly.
“Keep your eyes up here,” I snarl. His gaze drifts to mine, pupils blown wide, lips trembling.Good boy.That means he understands what’s next. “Your daddy can’t save you. The law won’t save you. There’s no cavalry coming over the ridge.” I hold up the knife. Let the steel catch the light. “Silly Bradley covered his tracks a little too well.” Dropping my voice to a low, dangerous growl, I add, “When you came formy woman, you delivered yourself to me, neat as a boxed-up Christmas gift. No trace of you. No witnesses. No escape.”
I trail the tip of the blade down his abdomen. His muscle twitches beneath the touch, skin of his chest raw and blistering. “You played right into our hands, just like we wanted you to. They’ll never find you, and that was my plan all along.”
Bradley doesn’t deserve subtlety, so I carve his sin into his skin.
One.
Slow.
Letter.
At.
A.
Time.
