Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Olivia
“You’re not about to shoot me, Nevyn. You know you don’t want to bring me back dead.”
My hands are in the air, and I’m face to face with the would-be groom I ran from only days ago.
He laughs, his pale eyes smiling psychotically. “I don’t want to bring you back at all, little girl.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Because there’s too much at stake. You know that. You know too much. I can’t have you running around the countryside telling everybody your little lies, now, can I?”
“I don’t tell lies, Nevyn. You’re the liar.”
I have to keep him talking, just a little longer. I move slowly, backing away, and pivoting, inch by inch. I just need the right angle to make this work. It’s a terrible plan, but I’ve definitely acted on worse plans than this.
“If you come with me now, and recant your story to whoever you told, your sisters will be safe.”
I refuse to let him see the horror that I feel. This is what they do. They use siblings and little ones as bargaining chips.
“Which ones?” I ask. Back away, and pivot. Back away, and pivot.
It’s working. Nevyn is so focused on keeping the shotgun trained on me that he’s not paying attention to his movements, which are taking him in a complete circle.
“Louisa. Goldie. They’re not as gritty as you are. When the Prophet breaks them, it’ll hurt. But more importantly, they’ll stay put and do as they’re told.”
There. I’ve got him right where I need him. And for saying what he just said, for threatening my sisters, he’s going to get it.
“I’m gonna blow your motherfucking brains out, Nevyn.”
Lord almighty, I never even thought about talking like that before. Clearly, I’ve been hanging around some wild cowboys. But I like the new me.
My would-be captor lowers his gun maybe an inch, clearly shocked at my language. Ramsay’s tense left hind leg rises up and kicks Nevyn so hard, square in the back, that his gun flies ten feet. His face contorts sickeningly as his body is thrust forward, and he lands hard on frozen ground.
I grab the 12 gauge off the ground and use the barrel to knock him across the back of the head.
Nevyn groans, face down in the dirt.
It would be wrong to shoot a man who’s already down.
And I definitely do not want a man’s life on my hands.
But do I want him to hurt? Really hurt for a long, long time to come?
“Oh, I definitely do,” I grit out.
Emboldened, I pull the trigger.
The kick of the shot makes me stumble backward.
Nevyn’s body jerks. His blood spills. His high-pitched shriek is icing on the cake. The discoloration at the back of his khaki pants as he pisses himself? Glorious.
Poor Ramsay bolts away, as Dani suddenly appears, flying over the hill in one of the Gators.
She screeches to an abrupt halt in front of me.
“Where’s Wylie?” I shout.
“He’s fine. Said that Orlyn guy threatened him, then he disappeared.”
I could cry, but I can’t even find the breath.
Dani gestures to the man on the ground. “That the guy you were supposed to marry?”
I nod.
“He dead?”
I shake my head, so shocked that I actually pulled the trigger that I can’t find the words.
Both our eyes survey the bloodied leg.
“Dani?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I go to jail for giving him a bad limp for the rest of his life?”
A slow smile creeps across her face. “Get in. We gotta go pick up your boyfriend.”