The Man Who Loved Cole Flores (Dig Two Graves 1)

The hole in the ground behind it was illuminated by a single lantern, which revealed yet more bones belonging to a single, massive skeleton.

This was the treasure Clara had mentioned.

One of science rather than gold and silver.

“What in the world—” Cole pushed past Ned, approaching the skull as if he were afraid it might bite off his arm. “What is that?”

Chapter 28

“It’s… it’s a dinosaur,” Ned uttered, lowering his shotgun with his shoulders sagging. There was no treasure here that they could benefit from.

Cole looked back, his lips stretching into a smile. “Look at you, reads, writes, knows names for beasts that look like drag—”

“Who are you, and what are you doing here?” yelled someone in a trembling, high-pitched voice. A heartbeat later, a young woman with eyes as big as a doe’s and a long coat thrown over her small form stepped out of the shadows. Ned didn’t worry much at first, but froze when he spotted a large revolver in her dainty hands. She did not resemble the sturdy women who grew up in these parts. Her coat was too fine for lying in the dust, and her cheeks—supple as if they were rarely touched by the sun. Still, she was determined to guard the site rather than stay hidden. “Do not approach!”

“Miss, we mean you no harm,” Cole said, spreading his arms, “so put that away before you harm yourself. We’re here for the treasure, so give it up, and we won’t hurt nobody.”

The woman, who couldn’t have even seen twenty summers yet, kept her gun pointed at them despite her hands shaking. “What treasure? This is an excavation area, and if you don’t leave right now, I will scream!”

Cole laughed and walked toward her in easy steps. “Scream all you want, girl, just show us the money! There’s two of us, so surely you must see who’s set to lose.”

She backed out in panic, stumbling when her foot hit a rock and Cole pounced her way, like a wolf spotting the weakest deer.

Ned knew what would happen a split second before she pulled the trigger.

The air filled with the scent of gunpowder, but as the girl recoiled from the power of the shot, so did Cole, who dropped into the dirt as if the bullet were the size of a man’s hand. In the shivery yellow light of the lantern, the scene became one of terror, and Ned only found his senses when he heard the girl reloading.

His mind was a tangle of worms, his tongue too big for his mouth, but when she sobbed and aimed at Cole again, Ned voiced a raspy, “No!”

She ought to have lowered her gun then, but when Ned realized she wouldn’t, he became an automaton created for the sole purpose of protecting his lover and shot her.

Hesitation was death, and Ned would always choose love over honor.

Her head exploded.

The bullet tore through bone and muscle, ripping apart the smooth cheek, and spraying blood on the dinosaur skull. But once the girl dropped to the ground, she didn’t even stir. She was dead.

“Ned… Neddie,” Cole whimpered, rolling to his side with a twist to his handsome features.

Ned dropped to his knees at Cole’s side, overwhelmed by grief at what he’d just done, but the scent of blood reminded him of it with each inhale. Still, this wasn’t the time to feel sorry for his lost humanity. “Show me! Where did she get you? Can you get up?” Because in his mind, whatever wound Cole bore was fixable. It had to be.

In the dark barn, blood flooding the dirt was like a shadow reaching out for Ned in silent accusation, but the pieces of flesh scattered next to the girl’s head could have been mashed raspberries. Ned only cared about the man in his arms.

“Sh-shit,” Cole hissed through gritted teeth, staring at the damp spot growing on his left shoulder, around a rip in fabric. His good hand, where he still held the revolver, shook so violently Ned took the gun from him, struggling to breathe.

Several voices rose from far off, turning Ned’s blood into a wild, boiling river. He took one more glance at the gigantic reptile head and cursed the day he’d come up with the idea of robbing this place.

“Can you walk? We need to get out of here,” Ned said, helping Cole up with dread rising in his throat.

“Can’t move my hand,” Cole croaked, and as he moved to his knees, Ned saw that the injured arm hung lifelessly, its fingers dragging through the dirt.

They couldn’t wait here any longer. With Cole injured, it was just Ned against an unknown number of foes, and if they were found by the girl’s body, no one would afford them mercy or even the benefit of the doubt. Ned’s gaze darted to the blood soaking into sand, because he couldn’t bring himself to see what was left of her face. The Pinkertons might have accepted that Ned killed Butcher Tom, but this? He was now the same kind of monster he’d tried to snuff out.