None of it mattered when Cole was bleeding.
Cole’s knees weakened with every step he took, so Ned dragged him past the wooden door and toward their horses. His first instinct was to ride back to camp, but even if Doc weren’t so deep in liquor, Ned had made sure that ship had already sailed.
A sense of dread overcame him as the dog howled in the distance, but there was still hope.
“I know a doctor not far from here. It will be all right,” Ned whispered to Cole, though perhaps he needed the reassurance more.
A light appeared in a window of the main house, someone called out, but armed men weren’t on them yet. They still had a chance to flee.
The sky had turned pink, the color of blood in water, and as Ned led Cole forward, fear gripped his throat like a noose.
Please. Please. Please.
Not now.
Not him.
The burn in his veins somehow made his muscles sturdier and more powerful, so he pushed Cole onto Nugget’s back, making sure his lover wouldn’t fall off the other side. So very pale and silent, Cole hunched forward, his eyelids drooping as if he were already dying from blood loss.
When Ned mounted up behind him, Cole’s body sagged against his chest—a remainder of Ned’s singular purpose. Get help. He clicked his tongue in hope Thunder would follow Nugget’s lead, but the horse wasn’t his priority at this point.
Blood pumped through Ned’s veins, creating a furious pulsing in his neck and temples as he dug his heels into the sides of his mount, prompting him to go faster. “You need to talk to me, Cole. Stay with me. No sleeping.”
The world blurred, but maybe it was just the tears welling up in his eyes when he allowed his mind to go dark and think of Cole’s plump lips turning blue and cold. He spurred Nugget to go faster, faster, faster, but any speed felt too slow as he held Cole tightly, listening to his shallow breath.
This couldn’t be their end. Not when they’d been so close to a future free of the Gotham Boys.
Hell, if he could’ve turned back time, he’d have joined the gang with his heart. He’d have pledged loyalty to Butcher Tom, and put strychnine in the well himself, if only it meant Cole never got shot. Nothing mattered if Cole couldn’t be with him.
Cole hummed, “I’m awake. Just fucking hurts. My arm’s still there, but I feel like it’s about to fall off.” His voice sounded stiff and strained, as if he were forcing it out through a narrow pipe. His head dropped on Ned’s shoulder, and he snuggled up to Ned, breathing softly as the sun ascended.
A new day was about to begin. As if nothing of note had happened.
Cole might have spoken a moment ago, but when his head flopped to the side, limp, Ned’s heart filled with lead.
“No, no, no…” he whimpered, shaking Cole gently in an attempt to wake him. “We’re almost there, come on, Cole, talk to me. I love you, I love you so much.”
But Cole couldn’t hear him anymore, knocked out cold.
Ned’s teeth creaked as he clenched his jaw in dread, but the black veil of death hadn’t fallen over Cole yet. Unlike Ned’s father and mother, he was still there, still breathing, and he would survive even if Ned had to break all his convictions to keep him alive. Nugget neighed in protest when Ned urged him to go faster, but the dark silhouette of the doctor’s house already peeked out from beyond a hill, almost within reach.
A sob rose in Ned’s throat, but he bit his lips shut, because this wasn’t the time to feel sorry for himself. Cole’s life was on the line, and if something happened to him now, every deed that stained Ned’s soul would have been meaningless. Even the revenge he’d been so greedy for. Because what good was it to the dead? It had all been for his own peace.
The warm body shifted against him as Nugget avoided a large rock in his path, and the black hat Cole always wore slid to his face before suddenly falling off like an overgrown leaf in the fall. But there was no time to pick it up. Ned whistled at Thunder again, relieved to see Cole’s mount following them at least, and he stormed up the gentle slope, toward the homestead that was only waking up to the new day.
The smoke coming from the chimney lit hope in his heart, and he stormed past an unfinished bit of fence, stopping Nugget at the back of the house. He had to take great care when dismounting to cause Cole as little pain as possible, but time was of the essence, and each heartbeat took his lover farther away from him.
Cole wasn’t small, but neither was Ned’s willpower, and he managed to carry the limp form despite his muscles aching in warning. He didn’t miss the blood dripping from Cole’s lifeless fingers as he climbed the porch, but he couldn’t waste any more time. He needed to act before news of what he’d done at the Solomon ranch reached this homestead.