kid, the juvenile delinquent and cold-blooded killer I’d foolishly thought I’d erased, was still alive and breathing.
The happy mask, the blistering spotlights, the thousands of screaming fans were nothing but a fantastical curtain I’d created in order to stay sane and survive.
In reality, I was every bit as much of a monster as the cocksucker I’d just killed.
My hand trembled as I holstered my Magnum. And as tears of shame stung my eyes, I turned and ran toward the woods.
Chapter 20
Caris
“Zattman’s dead. He’s finally dead,” Quinn yelled with glee as he raced through the lodge. “Syd just blew his fucking head off.”
“Is Syd okay?” I called out.
“Not a scratch on him.”
“Oh, thank god. I need to see him…touch him…hold him.”
Body and voice trembling, I released Mia and crawled out from under the sturdy dining room table. When gunfire had started erupting, we dove beneath it and clung to each other.
Wearing a look of panic, Ozzy rushed into the room and lifted Mia into his arms. My legs felt like rubber as I passed the couple and hurried to the front door. A dozen men in suits were milling around the yard. McCoy was helping a limping Brad toward the lodge as Cole followed, cradling his arm to his chest.
I stepped out onto the porch and peered around the corner. Zattman’s body lay on the sidewalk in a pool of blood and other stuff I didn’t want to exam too closely.
Suddenly, Syd turned and looked right through me. His face was pale, but his eyes…his eyes were glazed and haunted.
“Syd,” I called to him as I started down the stairs, but he didn’t even look at me, didn’t acknowledge me at all. He simply sprinted toward the woods. “Syd!”
Panic-stricken, I raced after him but quickly lost sight of him in the dark, dense foliage. As I screamed his name and followed the sound of his feet thundering against the ground, branches and leaves slapped my face.
Was he distraught about killing Zattman? No, that made no sense. Syd had zero compunction when he’d killed Emma Halloran’s chickens. Of course, killing an animal for food and a man, even a monster like Zattman, were two totally different things.
Syd’s footsteps were now far off in the distance. Fearing I’d soon lose all sense of his direction, I started running, only to trip over a vine and hit the ground with a teeth-jarring thud. Cursing under my breath, I picked myself up, dusted off my hands, and realized the forest had turned eerily silent.
Had Syd finally stopped running? Maybe. But I had no clue where he was. Pressing on, I continued my search, pausing several times to call his name. But he didn’t answer.
I’d gone another fifty yards, maybe more, when a muffled sound I’d never heard stopped me in my tracks. I cocked my head, held my breath, and listened intently.
Whatever was making the strange noise was still far away but directly in front of me. Focused on the rhythm of the repeating sound, I quietly made my way past low-hanging branches thick with leaves. I stepped out into a small clearing and scanned the darkness. Across the opening at the base of a big oak tree, something moved. I had no clue what wildlife roamed the Texas wilderness, but for some reason, bobcat popped into my head.
I was just about to pull my gun, turn, and retreat when the shadow at the base of the tree threw back its head and issued a mournful, “Oh, god.”
It wasn’t a bobcat. It was Syd. He was crying. The sounds I’d heard had been his sobs.
He killed a man because of me, and it’s tearing him apart.
Swallowing the lump of anguish-mixed guilt wedged in my throat, I hurried across the clearing and sank to my knees in front of him. In the moonlight, I could see the depth of torment clawing at him. It was etched on his face. I wrapped my arms around him, wanting to take his pain away, but Syd angrily shoved me away.
“Go back to the lodge, Caris,” he barked. His voice was thick with anger, embarrassment, and pain.
“I’m not going anywhere without you.” I clenched my jaw, sat back on my butt, and hugged my legs. “Talk to me, Syd.”
“What do you want me to say?” he asked, wiping the snot from his nose and palming his tears away. “That I’m a joke, a fraud, and a monster?”
My heart nearly stopped. Why was he saying such horrible things about himself?
“You’re not.