Those shots made him do something he'd never done before.
He fell to his knees in the dirt.
His fury igniting, he wanted to return that fire, but Bart knew he'd sold his guns to buy Matilda's ring-that had been his final act of ridding himself of the old Jess Brady. He was completely unarmed. The one thing he'd sworn he'd never be.
How could I be so stupid? How could he have put someone at his back when he knew better?
Maybe this was his penance for the sins he'd committed. Maybe this was all a bastard like him deserved.
Gunned down on what should have been the happiest day of his life.
Bart kicked him to the ground.
Panting from the weight of the pain and tasting blood, Jess stared up at him. The one man he'd risked his life for countless times. "Why?"
Bart shrugged nonchalantly as he reloaded his gun. "It's all about the money, Jess. You know that. And right now, you're worth a fortune."
Yeah ... how could he have forgotten their code? Having killed him, Bart would be the richest man in Gull Hollow. Not that he wasn't already.
Bart was the one Jess had given all his money to.
Jess coughed up blood as his vision dimmed. He was so cold now. Colder than he'd been even as a kid working in an early-spring field without shoes or a coat. His father had always told him he'd end up like this. You're trash, boy. All you'll ever be, and you won't live long enough to be nothing else. Mark my words. You'll come to a bad end one day.
And here he lay dying at age twenty-six. So evil, God wouldn't even let him reach the doors of Matilda's church.
But in the end, he was Sundown, and Sundown Brady didn't go quietly to his grave. No damn man would kill him and live. "I'll be back for you, Bart. Even if I have to sell my soul for it. So help me, God. I will kill you for this."
Bart laughed. "Give the devil my best regards."
"William!" Matilda's agonized scream hurt him more than the bullet wounds did.
He turned for one last look at her, but before he could take it, Bart coldly finished the job and denied him even the solace of seeing her face before he died.
* * *
Jess came awake with a curse. At least, he thought it was awake. Hard to tell, though, to be honest. It was darker here than the corner of his father's heart that had been reserved for any tender feelings the old bastard might have had for him. The silence was so loud, it rang in his ears.
He didn't even hear his own heartbeat.
'Cause I'm dead.
He remembered the pain of being shot, of trying to see Matilda in her wedding dress....
So this is hell.
But to be honest, he'd expected flames and excruciating agony. Demons flying at him with pitchforks and smells akin to the stuff he'd mucked out of stables as a kid.
Instead, there was nothing inside the blackness.
"That's because you're on Olympus. At least your soul is."
He turned as a lonely light came up to show him the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Tall, lithe, and curvy, she had hair so red, it shimmered in the dim light. With glowing green eyes, she looked ethereal. More like an angel than like a demon, especially given the flowing white dress she wore that hugged her body. Something about its style reminded him of the white statues he'd seen in some of the fancier hotels he'd boarded in after they'd made a good haul over the years. "What's Olympus?"
She made a sound that reminded him of a filly about to buck off her rider for irritating her. "I grieve for the poor education of so-called modern man. How can you not know the name of the mountain where the Greek gods dwell?"
He rubbed his jaw and forced down his own irritation at her insult. Until he knew who she was, it probably wasn't wise to make her too mad. "Well, ma'am, no offense, but it probably has a lot to do with the fact I'm not Greek. I was born in Possum Town, Mississippi, and ain't been no further east than that."
She growled low in her throat, then spoke angrily in a language he couldn't understand, which was probably for the best. No need in both of them being angry.