He left Carol at the hitching post and glared Ned’s way. He needed to show the bastard that he wasn’t afraid of what Ned represented. That he’d moved on, even though in his heart Cole was so painfully aware that he had not. With it being so much warmer down in the valley, they’d been forced to take the fur coat off Ned, which left him in an old set of buckskins with large, unskilled stitches where the clothes had ripped from use. Now that he no longer wore a hood, the dense tangles in his hair and beard were impossible to miss, and Cole found himself wondering whether Ned didn’t have bug nests in there. It would have been fitting.
“Follow me,” he said, looking away from the bloodshot gaze and led his prisoner down the slope, away from curious ears and prying eyes. They’d still be within the vicinity of the town but at a comfortable distance for what Cole intended. Now that he finally had his chance to be alone with the man he’d hated for the past seven years, the everyday hustle and bustle of Beaver Springs was like a splinter in his eye. People meant anyone might walk in on the interrogation Cole had in mind, but it was a risk he was willing to take.
The bright rays seeping through tree tops painted nature with a gold sheen, overlaying the lush greenery of spring. Were Cole a different man, the man he used to be seven years ago, he’d have used this opportunity to enjoy the heat and watch the stream while birds sang in the trees above, calling out to him.
Ned used to call out to him too, making the most thrilling noises, even though his mouth and tongue didn’t seem any different from any other man’s. They used to have a secret code to communicate among people who shouldn’t know the true nature of their relationship. Cole had never learned to make those sounds correctly, and ended up using bird language with the same efficiency he read and wrote.
So many fond memories poisoned with venom that had been brewing all along just under Cole’s nose. If he hadn’t dismissed the concerns he’d had about Ned’s behavior, his found family would have been still together, and his almost-father alive and well.
Fury shot into his veins with explosive power, and he spun around, knocking his fist into Ned’s face. The surprised grunt of the beast in human skin only angered Cole further. What did Ned think this was about? That he’d be spared the indignity of a public hanging now that Lars wasn’t here?
Ned tried to mumble something as he staggered back. A part of Cole wanted to nurse him back to health just so the bastard could face him with a clear head and understanding of what he’d done, but there was no time to spare for playing with this huge rat. What mattered was that it got caught in the trap at all.
“Look at me, O’Leary, or I swear to God I’m gonna cut your nose clean off,” Cole said and tapped the sheath attached to his belt.
When the green eyes looked back at him, wild and bright, he half-expected Ned to attempt making a run for it despite the collar on his neck and the irons holding back his hands, but he just stood there, like a dog waiting for another punishing blow of his master’s hand. Cole clenched his jaw, fighting the storm that had raged inside him for so long, but which he couldn’t unleash. Not yet.
“I’ll take out your gag, and we’ll talk. Nod if you understand.”
Ned’s Adam’s apple bobbed, but he did as told, standing still while Cole approached him.
This should have been so much easier, but Cole’s hands felt like wood when he stood in front of Ned and reached to the back of his head, where the fabric was tied. Averting his eyes would have meant defeat, so he stared back in a moment that kept taking him back to memories he wanted to forget. He needed to remind himself that Ned O’Leary had never been the man Cole used to think he was.
From up close, he could smell the thick funk of booze on him. Sickeningly sweet, it overpowered even the odor of Ned’s unwashed body, so Cole held his breath and stepped back as soon as he released the gag.
Despite the smell he carried about him, despite the unkempt appearance and blank look on the bearded face, the man standing in front of him was Ned O’Leary, the one man who could give Cole what he craved.
“You don’t want to do this. Leave it to the law if you must,” he mumbled before Cole could have opened his mouth.
He sounded like Ned, but raspier, his tone like that of a primal creature who didn’t have to observe people’s customs, but was still recognizable as the voice that used to whisper Cole’s name in pleasure. Cole used to love how Ned sounded. Now every word felt like salt thrown into his wounds.
“Why?”
Ned shook his head. “Because what’s done is done, and it won’t make you feel any better.”
Cole yanked on the chain and punched Ned as he stumbled forward. “Why did you do it? Why?”
Ned landed on his knees and bared his teeth with a growl, like an animal trying to warn him of upcoming violence. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to.”
Cole grabbed him by the collar, and something buzzed inside him when he sensed Ned’s pulse against his fingers. Still, he remained stern and spoke, “I’ve been waiting for them for seven damn years. Don’t you tell me what I can and can’t handle, O’Leary!”
The sun shone so brightly that for a moment a trick of light made Cole believe he was looking into the same green eyes he’d fallen in love with. But the man he held close was just a sack of useless bones.
Ned grunted, his features twisting in discomfort as the light hit his face. “You never wanted to hear my reasons, and you were right. Better to keep them buried. Turn around. Leave this town.”
Cole tightened his jaw as if he were biting through Ned’s throat and about to taste blood. “You’re about to die. Finally. Might as well tell me.”
“Why? Because he deserved it. If there’s one thing I don’t regret, it’s slitting Butcher Tom’s throat.”
The words themselves were worse than a punch.
“You used me to get to him!” Cole cried with anguish he wished he could take back, but his eyes itched, and despair climbed up his throat. “He was like a father to me. He saved me. And you just killed him like a dog.”
“I’m sorry, Cole, but I can’t let you do this…” Ned gave a deep sigh, but then slammed his forehead into Cole’s with the force of a sledgehammer. The meek way he’d acted had only been a game.
Cole’s hat dropped to the grass, but he rolled back to his knees as soon as he landed, fighting the vertigo that spun his world around and made it tremble. Guided by touch, he scrambled to his feet and stepped into the icy waters of the creek, but his anger was too hot to let that stop him.
Ned was already halfway through the water when Cole found the chain and pulled, cutting the bastard’s legs from under him in one clean yank. Ned let out a choked grunt as he fell with a splash that soaked Cole too. Some of Ned’s auburn hair stuck to his face, covering his eyes, but he still pulled on the collar, pathetic like an injured salmon trying to jump upstream.
“Live your life and leave me to rot, for fuck’s sake!” Ned yelled, but Cole was already on him, already sinking to his knees to straddle Ned in the shallow water, which reflected the sunlight into his eyes. He grabbed Ned’s jaw and pushed, forcing his mouth and nose underwater to show him what might happen if he didn’t comply.