Wyatt couldn't tell. The pain was making it hard to think straight, and the cold was seeping into his bones. He pulled against the ropes, trying to find some give, but they held fast. All he could do was sit there and wait and pray that Ayla was faster than the men chasing her. Then, cutting through the silence, A single gunshot.
Wyatt's heart stopped. Another shot. Then a third, and then nothing. Wyatt strained against the ropes until his wrists bled, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The silence stretched out, endless and terrible.
Finally, he heard hoofbeats, two riders coming back. Wyatt's stomach twisted into knots. "Please," he thought. "Please let her be alive." The barn door opened.
Cade walked in, his face grim. Behind him came Davis, looking pale and shaken. Harlo stepped into view. "Well," Cade shook his head. "Lost her."
She cut through the ravine, and by the time we found the trail again, she was gone. disappeared like a ghost. Relief crashed over Wyatt so hard it left him dizzy. She'd made it. She was alive. Harlo cursed, kicking at a bale of hay.
"Damn it! Damn it!" he turned to glare at Wyatt. "This is your fault. All of it." "Yeah," Wyatt said, his voice weak but triumphant.
"It is." Harlo pulled his pistol and aimed it at Wyatt's head. "Give me one good reason I shouldn't blow your brains out right now." Wyatt smiled, blood staining his teeth. "Because you're a coward.
Always have been. You only hurt people weaker than you. And right now, tied up and beaten, I'm still more of a man than you'll ever be." For a moment, Wyatt thought Harlo might actually pull the trigger. The rage in his eyes was murderous.
His finger tight on the trigger. But then, slowly he lowered the gun. "No," Harlo said. "You don't get off that easy. You're going to sit here and freeze while we figure out where that — ran to. and when we find her, I'm going to make you watch what we do to her."
He turned and walked out. The other men followed, leaving Wyatt alone. But Wyatt wasn't afraid anymore. Ayla was free. That was all that mattered.
She was out there somewhere, riding hard through the night. And for the first time since this whole nightmare began, she had a real chance at escape. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the post. He'd done what he set out to do. He'd protected her, and if that cost him his life, so be it.
It would be worth it. The cold was what kept him conscious. It bit through his coat, through his shirt, all the way down to the bone. Wyatt's wrists were raw where the rope had cut into them. His blood freezing in sticky patches on his skin.
Every breath felt like swallowing glass. But he stayed awake, stayed alert, because the moment he gave in to the numbness creeping through his limbs was the moment he'd never wake up. Outside the barn, he could hear Harlo's men talking in low voices. Someone laughed, the sound grating and ugly. A bottle passed between them.