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

Zeb’s nose had been broken again and now pointed to the right, surrounded by ugly swelling, but he was alive, surely set to hang in a matter of days. But the pain he was feeling didn’t keep the crazy bastard from pushing his cheek at the bars, eager to take in the faces of men whose violent deaths he was already planning. Zeb was a despicable human being, yet at this point Ned cared much more about getting Cole to safety than whether his revenge was complete.

But then, the bloodshot eyes turned toward them, and time that had previously stalled went into a gallop.

“Goddamn traitors! It’s them! It’s O’Leary and Cole,” Zeb roared, his screams awakening the sleepy wagons.

Men and women, who moments before didn’t have the energy to keep their backs straight, rose and yanked at their chains with ferocity that could have only been fueled by rage. If they hadn’t been locked up, they’d have torn Ned and Cole apart with their bare hands.

And that terrible word that was on all their lips.

Traitor.

“I’ll twist your head off, Cole! Tom raised you, and you thanked him by slitting his throat,” Zeb screamed, so red in the face Ned hoped he might suffer a sudden death before finishing that sentence, but it didn’t happen.

Cole recoiled, as if he’d been hit with another bullet, and his gaze darted to Ned with understanding flashing in his dark eyes.

But before Ned could have as much as choked out an answer, the prisoners deafened him with their shouting.

“They’re with us too! They escaped!”

“They’re the ones who poisoned the well!”

It was as if Ned had taken a gulp of boiling oil. He could smell the burn of gunpowder before the first shots.

Thaddeus Craig and a burly man Ned didn’t know came into view, both armed with repeaters, and Cole dug his heels into Thunder’s side, prompting him to jump over the fence. Bullets swished through the air, and the black stallion gave a broken sound, stumbling as he landed on the other side.

Shit. Goddamn it.

Ned’s world shook as he followed his lover’s example, floating through the air, only to then gallop downhill, far away from the armed men. Cole’s mount, which had overtaken Nugget so easily in the past was now limping, but he wouldn’t stall, staying true to his rider’s wishes. Ned could hear shouting behind them, but didn’t dare look over the shoulder to see the size of the party following them across the plain. The only way was forward.

They rode on for what felt like days until they spotted the little pond surrounded by a thatch of shrubs and trees, but in reality their escape couldn’t have lasted much more than half an hour. The sun was punishing them with its heat, taking away whatever strength Thunder still had, and the horse collapsed under Cole out of nowhere, dropping into the dirt with a pained huff. Ned let out a shriek, but his lover rolled off in time, avoiding the animal’s weight dropping on him.

He remained on his knees, his hair damp with sweat, face reddened from the sharp sun, but before Ned could have said anything, he looked up from the trembling body of his steed, pinning Ned to the saddle with his gaze alone.

“What have you done?”

Ned swallowed, glancing over his shoulder. There was no one within sight, but he could feel the impending danger in his bones. “Come. Take your valuables and get on.” He glanced at poor Thunder, who lay dying in the dirt and squirmed like Ned’s soul, but grief could wait until they were safe.

Cole rose with more power than his state should have allowed. His good hand shot for the revolver at his hip, and he pointed it at Ned. “Get. Off. Now.”

Ned bit his dry lips and jumped to the ground, not because he was scared of Cole, but because they needed to end this and get back on the road.

“We don’t have time for this. I had my reasons, Cole. You gotta trust me.”

“Was it true what he said? Did you kill Tom?” Cole shouted so loudly his voice carried over the plain and sent a shudder down Ned’s back. “Is he dead?”

Ned spread his arms abruptly. “You weren’t supposed to find out! None of this was supposed to happen, but we’re both alive so let’s go before the Pinkertons catch up with us!”

This time, despite the fury burning in Cole’s gaze, his voice broke, as if he were on the verge of tears. “How do you know who they are?”

Ned’s mouth went dry because he stood in a hole that was getting deeper with each word coming out of his mouth. He could lie, say that he’d heard of Pinkerton agents coming to Three Stones soon, claim Tom had attacked him and he’d needed to defend himself. Maybe Cole would have believed him, but they couldn’t build their new life on a lie so blatant. The man Ned loved more than anything in the world deserved the truth.