Heath
I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE more difficult watching them take her body to prepare it for burial, but there was no warmth left. No smiles for me. No laughter for my ears. Fucking nothing. I watched the coroner cover her with a sheet and roll her out of Elliot’s home. The baby screamed, and a tiny curl of satisfaction wove itself inside my heart at seeing Elliot struggle to calm her. Helen fussed and fawned over the child.
And I left.
I find my horse in their barn and tip my head in thanks to their ranch hand Titus, who’s taken care of my horse in my absence.
Absence.
I checked out for days.
Helen said I clutched onto Catrina for two days and then I spent another day holed up in a spare room. I paced the floor until I was sure I’d worn a hole in the carpet. The baby’s cries were maddening.
Cat.
Her real name is exactly her mother’s, but I was relieved to hear Helen take to calling her a shortened version. I’m not sure if it was for my sake or the fact the child sounded like a fussy kitten. Either way, I’m glad I don’t have to hear my love’s name spoken in a way as though she is alive.
She is gone.
I close my eyes for a brief moment before reopening them and mounting my horse. The storm has long passed, but smooth flooded waters cover the earth in some areas along my path. Undisturbed and perfect. I want to ruin it. I want to ruin everything.
“Hyah!” I holler to my animal and take off out of the barn. I run my horse as fast as he will go through the waters, destroying the calm as we plow through it. A numbness has begun to settle in my bones. Nothing to do with temperature. Something of the permanent sort.
Our hearts are the same, therefore now that hers does not beat, mine has gone into a permanent coma. It’ll never wake.
The wind stings my flesh as the horse runs, but I ignore it. Quickly, I do my best to harden every part of me. My time for being soft faded the moment my love died in my arms.
I fly across the flooded landscape, sometimes sinking so deep in some areas that I wonder if we’ll go all the way under, when I swear I see a flash of dark hair. My memories haunt me. Times when we were children—when we’d run through the puddled fields laughing and screaming.
All gone.
The trip home goes quicker than I’d hoped. It takes me a bit to settle the horse in the barn since Newton is missing. He normally cares for the horses. He’ll be fired the moment he shows back up. If he shows back up.
There’s a new sheriff in town. Hunter Crenshaw handed over the keys to an empire when he decided to indebt himself to me. New rules around here. And the first rule is when I send Newton packing, Hunter will have a new job.
Ranch hand.
Unpaid.
This cold rage that fuels me feels familiar in my veins. I welcome it so it will chill the burning in my chest. My revenge has been in the shadow of my lover. Lurking and waiting. Ever-present. A moving, throbbing entity just waiting to be fully unleashed.
Time to be free, my beast of hate.
Go forward and cause massive destruction in every single one of their lives.
An evil smile tugs at my lips as I walk into the home and kick off my rain-soaked shoes. The first thing I notice is the silence. And the electricity is out.
That motherfucker left.
Weak. He’s weak as shit. I’ll still break him. I’ll find him and break him slowly.
I hear a sound within the home and I cock my head listening. Poor, pampered Isabel is probably frantic as a starved mouse. She hasn’t worked a day in her life. If Hunter and the boy left, then that means she’s all alone probably wasting away waiting for someone to wash her clothes and cook her food.
She’ll pay for her part in this too. I wasted too many months with her when I could have been with Catrina. My hands fist as fury burns through me. I haven’t thought up what her penance will be, but it will come to me. If she thinks I’ll send her off to her brother now, she has another thing coming. She’s my wife, goddammit.
I storm through the living room and take the stairs two at a time, calling out her name. When I make it to our room, the drawers have been pulled open and emptied. The closet is bare as well.
The bitch left.
Everyone leaves.
I hear another sound downstairs and I exit my room. I’m slower as I walk back down the hallway, which is how I notice the stench this time. Alcohol. So much of it. When I step into Hunter’s office, I find him passed out in his chair. But as I near the desk, I see the empty bottle of pills.
Weak. Ass. Motherfucker.
I check his pulse and he’s as cold as his goddamn sister.
She was taken from me and he ran away like the pussy he is.
Fatigue wears on me. Running on fumes and lack of sleep for days on end wears on you. I stifle a yawn and decide I’ll call the coroner in the morning and hope the water has receded on our road enough for them to come get him. Sleep is more important. I’m headed for my bed when I hear it again.
Silently, I stalk the sound out in case my wife is playing some stupid fucking game. I sneak into the kitchen and the sound comes from the pantry that stands ajar. Rustling. Crunching. Grunting. Well, that’s the biggest damn mouse I’ve ever heard. It sounds like it’s ransacking the pantry. Maybe it’s a coon.
I grab the knob and pull the door open. What I find has me gritting my teeth.
“Momma,” the orphan whines.
My heart is cold and empty as I stare at him. This boy. Left behind by both his parents.
“Orphan,” I grumble, “your asshole parents left you with me.”
He starts to cry. Hell, I would too.
While he sobs and toddles around me, clutching onto my pants, I cut an apple into slices and make a peanut butter sandwich. I set it on the table and watch as the half-starved boy nearly inhales the food.
“Milk,” he whines.
I watch him with narrowed eyes. He’s filthy and smells like shit. The stench of alcohol clings to him. He no doubt tried to get his weak father to wake from his death. I feel pity for the thing.
“Everything in the fridge is shit,” I tell him. “Electricity is out.”
“Shit?” he questions.
I bark out a harsh laugh and he smiles at me. “Yep, shit. Want some fucking water instead?”
The toddler orphan babbles what I assume is an effort to parrot yet another curse word. It satisfies me that Hunter left his only legacy with me. Mine to ruin. I’m going to ruin everything.
“I’ll ruin you too,” I explain to the boy as I fill a cup with water but leave it running, turned to warm. I squat and my nostrils flare when I get a whiff of his shitty ass. “Here. Drink.”
I have to help him, but he guzzles the whole glass. His eyes are droopy and he looks as sleepy as I feel. Once he finishes, I set the glass on the counter and plug the sink drain. The sink fills with warm water and I pour in some dish soap to be safe.
“You stink, orphan,” I grunt as I bend to start shucking off his clothes. He wiggles and cries, but I’m stronger. I take off his soiled diaper that is coming up both his front and back and toss it in the trash. Then, I snag the filthy runt and toss him in the sink. He screams and squirms, but then he gives up. His curious blue eyes stare up at me. I scrub him with the dish sponge and vow to throw it in the dumpster later. Once he’s clean, I wrap him in a dish towel and hold him to me as I make my way through the house.
“Momma,” he cries when we pass his parents’ room.
“Nope,” I grunt as I bypass the room to go to his nursery. It takes some wrangling but I manage to put a diaper back on him because I don’t want that fucker shitting all over the place. I find him some zip up pajamas and grab his stuffed zebra. “Let’s go.”
He clings to me and sucks his thumb, falling asleep before I’ve even left the room. I’m half tempted to throw him in his bed, but then he’d probably start hollering the moment I close my eyes. Not happening.
I find my room and close the door behind me. Then, I kick out of my wet pants and socks before crawling into my empty bed with the orphan. I settle on my back and pull the covers over us. The kid may not be something I want to deal with right now, but he’s warm.
As soon as my eyes close, I see her. Her smile. Her twinkling eyes. Her soft brown hair blowing in the wind. A severe ache tears through my chest again.
She’s dead.
There’s no bringing her back. That’s out of my control.
But there are things in my control.
And those things will be handled tomorrow.
Today, I sleep away the pain and invite numb hatred into my heart.
Tomorrow, I get my revenge.