He turns slowly, taking his time as he reaches for the iron. The metal glows a deep orange. I can feel the heat radiating from the bright orange end from where I sit.
Instinctively, I press my back harder against the cedar post. “Grant...”
He walks toward me. “You know...” His voice is almost thoughtful. “I spent years watching those three dole this out to people they decided deserved it.”
He crouches in front of me, lifting the hem of my shirt.
“I figured it was only fair.”
My breathing quickens. “Fair?”
“You've chosen their side.”
Planting my feet on the floor, I push back into the column as hard as I can, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t get away.
“Wh—what’re you?—”
Grant cuts me off. “You still don’t get it. I gave those guys every opportunity to collect the debts that were due. They didn’t take care of it, so I had to step in. Derek Holt, Reverend Ricks, Neil Redford. Each of those men was corrupt. Hypocrites.”
He’s the Debt Collector.
Grant’s jaw tightens. “So now...” He glances at the glowing iron, holding it in front of his face. “You get to carry their mark.”
He lowers the hot end to my stomach and presses in.
Every other discomfort I’m feeling right now fades into the background. My scream claws and scrapes at my throat on its way out.
The agony.
The familiar smell.
My eyes lock with Grant’s. They’re nothing short of pure glee.
When it pulls the brand away, the pain doesn’t leave. Acid wells up inside me, threatening to come out. It takes everything in me to swallow it down.
My nose drips as tears run down my face unobstructed.
Grant returns the poker to the fire as the sound of car doors slamming echoes through the thin walls.
“Ah. Here comes the cavalry now. Right on time.”
The front door crashes inward hard enough to rattle the windows. A blast of freezing mountain air rushes through the cabin, carrying snow and the smell of pine with it.
Three figures fill the doorway—Walker, Levi, Santiago.
They each have their guns trained on Grant.
For one impossible heartbeat, the world goes completely still.
They're here.
Relief hits me hard, stealing my breath, then dread takes its place just as quickly.
No.
My pulse spikes. “Don't...” I whisper before I can stop myself.
Every ounce of fear I’ve seen them hide over the past few weeks crashes across all three of their faces.
