Page 121 of Branded Betrayal

“Thanks, but maybe just some water.”

Abrams steps out to grab me water and makes a quick call before returning to his notes. “Is there anything else we haven’t covered you want to add?” When I shake my head he continues, “These are really great details. You’re a victim of coercion and manipulation, Mr. Hartman. Your testimony will help us dismantle his entire operation.”

I bring a hand to the back of my neck. “I’ll testify to everything. Just lock him up and throw away the key.”

Abrams nods and steeples his fingers. “You could have killed him at the warehouse. Why didn’t you?”

A humorless laugh escapes my lips. “And give him an easy out? Yeah, I could’ve shot him dead after Nash beat the hell out of him. But that bastard deserves to suffer behind bars. He deserves way worse than death after everything he did over the years, all the lives he ruined and the people he hurt.” I lift an eyebrow at him. “Not like it wasn’t tempting, though. Can’t lie about that.”

Abrams smirks. “I’m sure. Glad you were able to control your rage. Otherwise we’d be having a different conversation.” He flips through some papers. “With your testimony and the evidence we collected at the warehouse, he’s looking at life without parole. Multiple life sentences, actually.”

“In some minimum-security, white-collar, country-club prison?” I say with a roll of my eyes. “Because of all the negotiating his sleazy, overpriced lawyer’s gonna do?”

“With what we have on him? Kidnapping, multiple counts of attempted murder, drug trafficking, conspiracy to commit murder, racketeering, money laundering?” Abrams shakes his head. “No amount of negotiating will whittle that down. And that’s not even the whole list of charges.”

“Good,” I say. “We done here?”

Abrams pushes back his chair and stands up. “Thank you for your time. We appreciate all of the information you provided today. And we’ll see you on Friday to discuss the overseas operations you carried out on his behalf.”

“Great,” I say. “Anything you need.”

“Thank you again for your cooperation,” Abrams says. “And I’m in discussions to have your dishonorable discharge case reopened under the circumstances. I can’t promise anything because it’s a long process, but with your testimony, we might be able to remove it.”

“Thanks for that.” I follow him out the door, rake a hand through my hair, and put on my hat. With a lead weight in my gut, I walk out of the building.

I squint in the early-afternoon sunlight. Colt stands against his truck, staring at his phone. He looks up as I approach.

“How’d it go?” he asks, sticking his phone into the pocket of his jeans.

“Same as yesterday. And the day before.”

“You almost done with those guys?”

“Friday, I think. They want to talk about the shit I was pulling overseas for that son of a bitch.” I pull open the passenger-side door and jump into the seat. “I just want all of it to be over.”

Colt gets in and turns on the ignition. He’s quiet as he pulls onto the highway, headed back to Whiskey Creek. “You know, Dad’s lawyer called me yesterday.”

My spine stiffens. “I don’t want to hear about that asshole.”

“I get it, but you should know he took a deal. He’s gonna testify against Wilkerson to reduce the charges against him.”

I let out a sharp laugh. “Lemme guess. No prison time.”

“Heavy fines and restitution payments. House arrest. Probation. But yeah, he ain’t going to prison.” Colt taps on the steering wheel. “Dad always manages to come out on top.”

“Yeah, especially when he has his own kids do his dirty fucking criminal work.” I grit my teeth, staring out the window as we pass Lover’s Bluff. My heart aches like it’s being stabbed. “I don’t give a fuck what happens to him as long as he stays away from me.”

“I really wish you’d have told me about all the crap he had you involved with,” Colt says. “You didn’t have to handle it on your own.”

I slant him a look. “Come on, Colt. You wouldn’t have listened. You were climbing the ladder, and if there was a pot of gold at the top, you’d have stepped all over me to get there. But, hey, everyone has their priorities.”

“Don’t be a dick,” he says. “Yeah, I was suspicious at first. That whole story about Dad and Wilkerson was hard to swallow, but when you laid it all out for me and Wyatt, it was harder to shoot it down. We didn’t have the best relationship before you left, but things are different now.” He pauses. “I think we just need to be honest with each other. Especially now. We’ve got a lot of shit going on with the ranch, the finances, the media. We need each other.”

“Yeah,” I say, rubbing my finger against the leather grain of the seat. “We do. You got a plan for what you’re gonna do while Dad is holed up at the house?”

“I’m sure as hell not staying there,” Colt says. “I’m looking for my own place. Got some feelers out there. Me and Wyatt were talking about moving in together. You interested? Make it a threesome? Not my threesome of choice, but for now,” he says with a waggle of his eyebrows, “it makes sense.”

“Maybe.” Nash invited me to stay with him at Red Rock for a bit, but it hurt too much being in the main house. It still smells like Savannah. She’s infiltrated the whole place, and being there is torture of the worst kind, knowing she’ll likely never come back. So I moved into the bunkhouse at Red Rock instead since there was no way I was going back to Dad’s after that shit show in Birch Falls.