Badlands (Hqn) by Sorenson Jill

Author:Sorenson, Jill [Sorenson, Jill]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2013-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

OWEN STARED AT the bottom of the gorge, his bile rising.

He was determined not to glance at Cruz or Penny. He didn’t want either of them to get hurt in a futile attempt to help him. Better to just take a deep breath, let his mind go blank and accept his fate. Hold steady. It would all be over soon.

Instead of cutting his throat, Dirk merely nicked him. Blood coursed over his Adam’s apple in a thin trickle. A couple of drops splashed on the rocks below. Owen heard Penny’s agonized sob as Shane shoved her aside.

His brother came forward. To kill him.

In his peripheral vision, he saw Penny crawling across the dirt, toward Cruz. She cowered at the mouth of the tunnel, protecting him with her body. Cruz was also crying. He didn’t appear to be badly injured. If the boy had been knocked unconscious, Owen would have gutted Dirk like a fish.

He wasn’t sure he’d made the right decision by dropping the knife. Sacrificing himself for Penny and Cruz was a no-brainer, but he didn’t want his life to end like this. Not at his brother’s hands. Not facedown and helpless, staring at his own blood.

Pebbles crunched under Shane’s boots as he approached. Owen smelled rust and sweat and cigarette-stinking fingers. The unpleasant odor reminded him of his father. He squeezed his eyes shut, holding the tears at bay.

How fucking stupid, to care about looking like a wimp before he got his head blown off. What insidious, asinine macho bullshit. Even at the cusp of death, his father’s words haunted him so much that he refused to beg and blubber.

Like it mattered. Would he rather be a corpse or a coward? If he had a choice, he’d take coward. It wasn’t as if he’d always stayed strong or held his head high. Some of the things he’d done in prison—well, he’d proved the old man right.

Shane stepped up to finish him. His brother didn’t mess around with big talk and intimidation, like Dirk. It was cold comfort, but Owen knew Shane wouldn’t savor this. He’d carry the guilt with him to the grave.

Owen flinched as the gun went off. The sound ricocheted throughout the canyon, oddly flat and lacking impact.

He hadn’t even felt the bullet.

Dirk let go of the knife and slumped forward, on top of him. Something warm and sloppy slid across the back of his neck, soaking the collar of his shirt. Owen opened his eyes, realizing he hadn’t been shot. Dirk had.

The scene was like a Picasso, difficult to process. He blinked a few times until his brain solved the gruesome puzzle. What was left of Dirk’s face rested right next to Owen’s. The top of his head was gone, his scalp hanging loose.

Owen recoiled in shock.

Shane shoved the corpse aside with his foot. It toppled over the edge, glancing off rocks and turning cartwheels before hitting the bottom of the gorge with a sickening thud. Owen rolled away from the guardrail and retched. A small amount of water and stomach acid came up, burning his throat.

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