The truck hasn’t made a complete stop before I’m out of the car, firing shot after shot as I charge ahead. Marney’s gunfire joins mine, and in less than a minute, all the men are on the ground.
I take off toward my bullet-riddled truck, the panic just starting to set in. If something’s happened to either of them… “Caleb?” I shout. “Tor?”
“We’re fine,” Caleb’s voice comes from behind the truck.
I round the tailgate and find Tor crouched beside my brother, tying a piece of material around his bloodied bicep. He half rolls his eyes when he sees me, then juts his chin toward her. “Tell her I’m not dying, would you? It’s just my shoulder.”
Tor’s panicked gaze meets mine and she pushes to her feet. Relief falls over me and this is when I know I’m more than fucked. This girl is quickly becoming much more to me than she needs to be–if for nothing else, because of this shit right here. Nothing about my life is safe.
I tuck my gun into the back of my jeans, grabbing onto her when she buries her face in my chest and fists my shirt.
“You okay?” I whisper before pressing a kiss to her forehead.
She nods, but she grips my shirt a little harder.
“It’s the damn cartel,” Marney mumbles, firing a bullet at one of the dead men. “See what you’ve gotten into, boy?”
Tor’s hold on my shirt loosens, and she pulls away from my chest enough to look at me. “Did he just say cartel?”
I’m not going to answer that.
“Y’all gonna stand there and make out, or help me clean up this mess?” Marney grabs one of the men by the ankles, then drags the body through the thick weeds.
Caleb hisses through obvious pain as he staggers to his feet. Like he’s in any condition to help.
“Get in the car, Caleb.” I shoot a stern glare in his direction. But unlike usual, he doesn't argue and climbs into the cab of Marney’s truck. As soon as the door shuts, I glance at Tor. “How bad is his wound?” There didn’t seem to be shitloads of blood, and while I’ve been shot in the shoulder a handful of times, I’m not a doctor. I don’t want to be reckless with my little brother’s life.
“Just needs stitching,” she says.
“Can you do that when we get back home?”
“Yeah.”
Nodding, I usher her to the passenger side of Marney’s truck and help her in before I take off across the field to help Marney.
We get the first two men into the back of the pickup. Marney crosses through the weeds again to get the third guy. He stops by the body and crosses his arms. “Now that’s a three-man job right there.”
He hitches his pants up and bends over, grabbing one of the man’s large arms.
It takes us a good five minutes to drag the son of a bitch to the back of the truck. When we hoist him up, the suspension creaks and the back of the truck sinks onto the wheel wells.
“That damn tarp better cover this mess up, I tell you.” Marney wipes sweat from his brow as he shuffles around the dead bodies and opens the toolbox at the back of the truck. He pulls out a blue tarp, and I help him cover up the bodies, tying them down before we both light a cigarette.
Marney glances over the plastic wavering in the wind. “I’ll call Paul over at the funeral home, get him to cremate the sons of bitches.” Then his gaze swings back to me. “You realize we’re in a pile of shit, boy?”
And Marney doesn’t know the half of it. I still haven’t told him that Rich was working for Tom. I’m not sure why. Denial maybe? Or maybe it’s because I know the minute Marney finds out, he’s going to want to hightail it the hell out of here. And this may be my only shot at ever getting Tom. I’ve looked for him for years, and if the only way I can get to him is by letting him come to me, so be it. I can’t help but think I’m selfish for it, but revenge is a driving force. One that has burned through my veins for years. It’s one hundred percent my vice, and I’m pretty sure it’ll be my downfall. “Yeah,” I mumble.
I watch the field of corn sway in the breeze as we smoke in silence. “Your pops had the same problem,” Marney says, flicking his filter. “Found him a woman he was crazy about, then all hell broke loose.” His expression softens a little, just like it does anytime he mentions my dad. “Ain’t no place for love in this business, but when a rose blooms in a pile of shit, I guess it’s kinda hard to ignore, ain’t it, boy?”