A chilling thought pinches my gut. “The bodies are under all that?”
Levi’s eyes bulge, and he thrashes and heaves against Jarret’s hold.
“They went in first.” Jake loops more rope around Levi’s ankles and looks up at me. “Do you have any last words for this motherfucker?”
“No.” Pins and needles creep up my legs and deaden my insides.
Jake’s vigilant gaze stays on me as he kicks Levi onto his stomach and presses a boot against his back.
The rope leads from Jake’s hand to Levi’s neck. The man’s wrists and feet are bound together behind him, his mouth sealed with duct tape and expression stark with dawning horror.
I clutch the base of my throat, my mind swirling with images of his death. We never discussed the exact method. I expected it to be drawn out and gruesome, but maybe strangulation is better than a stab wound or gun shot. None of us are here to bathe in blood. We’re not killers. We just want it done, so we can have closure and move on.
The knowledge alone that he’s about to die makes me want to puke.
Jarret strides toward me and pulls me into a tight hug. “You don’t have to watch.”
I wrap my arms around him and fix my gaze on Jake, trembling and nauseous.
“You hurt my girl.” Jake pulls hard on the noose around Levi’s neck, his dark, rugged features cut with vengeance. “You stole something sacred from her. From me. And you thought you’d do it again?” He drives a brutal kick into Levi’s ribs. “We live and die by the choices we make. You made yours. I hope you relive that night from her perspective, over and over, while you burn in hell.”
He pushes his boot down on Levi’s spine and holds the rope taut, straining the muscles in his forearms.
I clap a hand over my mouth, fighting the bile in my throat as Levi bucks and jerks face down in the dirt, fighting for air.
The strangulation goes on for eternity. Jake doesn’t move or speak, his hands clenched around the rope. With his head tilted down, the rim of the hat conceals his face.
My fingers bite into Jarret’s back, my entire body locked in frozen panic. Why is it taking so long?
Finally, the body slumps, breathless and unmoving. Jake checks his pulse and shoves him over the edge and into the ravine.
“It’s over.” He comes to me, arms open, and pulls me from his brother.
Jarret takes off toward the dump trucks to unload the dirt. To bury Levi Tibbs.
Jake lifts me and carries me away from the bluff, nuzzling his whiskered face in my neck. I melt into him, clinging to his strong, dependable breaths.
Neither of us have words. None are needed. Levi Tibbs stole six years from us. He’s not going to get another second.
Ketchup offers a soft, little whinny as we approach. I wiggle out of Jake’s arms to kiss and rub her nose.
“Aren’t you going to help him?” I nod at the dump truck as Jarret backs it toward the cliff.
“Nah.” He grips my waist and hoists me into the saddle. “He’ll drop those two loads, and we’ll move the rest of the dirt in tomorrow.”
Swinging up behind me, he tucks my rear against his groin and slides his arms around me to grasp the reins.
A suffocating sensation closes in, but his embrace is stronger. He chases away my demons because he’s the biggest, baddest bully of them all.
My protective bully places an unyielding hand under my chin and directs my head back against his shoulder.
“Just breathe.” He touches his lips to the edge of my mouth. “I’m right here.”
“I’m here for you, too, you know. We were both there that night. Please, lean on me. Whenever you need me.”
“I’m leaning on you right now.” He brings me tighter against his chest and holds me close on the ride to the stable.
He holds me as we shower. His hand never leaves my back as we warm up pasta leftovers.
Jarret joins us on the back porch, and Jake holds me as we eat in silence.
Dusk creeps across the pasture like it always does—sleepy and peaceful. But tonight, it feels more sullen, darker, and full of shadows.
After dinner, Jarret collects our dishes and heads inside the house.
I turn to Jake beside me. “The air feels heavy.”
“Come here.” He reclines on the cushioned bench, legs spread and expression open.
I crawl onto his lap and snuggle against the warm cotton of his shirt.
“It’s okay to be sad.” His voice slips over me, just a soft breath of sound, but it feels like a velvet caress. “For as long as it takes, I’ll hold you through it.”
“There’s nothing to be sad about.”
“You don’t believe that.”
I love that he understands me so completely, like he’s inside my head feeling my thoughts before I can make sense of them.