Chapter 75

75

He'd shielded her from seeing the two dead men. But Meyra would always remember. Mr. King or Wayne Pryor, whatever his name was, was unconscious. Brandt had tied paper towels and a cord from the blinds around the wounds in the man's chest. It was really all they could find.

Meyra thought he was probably going to die. But she hoped not.

She really didn't want anyone else to die. Didn't the violence and death ever end?

The other guy was just unconscious. "Kurt. His name is Kurt Fisher. I think he is Sierra's cousin. Sierra is the judge's daughter. She is—was—a friend, sort of."

Brandt told her he'd hit the man. So hard Kurt was still unconscious. And Ashton was dead.

Brandt had shot him. Killed him.

To defend himself. And her. Meyra would never forget. She was fighting to keep herself together now. Dylan refused to come inside.

They had checked on Kurt and Mr. King, and then they had headed back outside to Dylan. She hadn't wanted to leave her cousin out there alone for too long. Just in case those other men came back.

Then they had heard Dylan scream.

Meyra and Brandt had run outside.

In time to see Bruce Tyler kiss Dylan and then just climb in Judge Fisher's truck and drive away.

Nothing about that man made any sense at all.

She looked at her cousin as a trio of trucks came roaring up.

Brandt grabbed her and put her behind him. He did the same with Dylan.

Standing in front of them to protect them. No matter what.

"It's okay," Dylan said, peeking around Brandt. "That's Ben's truck right there. And, well, I'd recognize that other truck anywhere. Considering I've kind of stolen it before and everything, too. That's Fletcher."

That was when the tears came.

When Meyra knew they were going to be okay.

The trucks stopped. The doors opened.

And then men were there—Ben and Gil and Fletcher and Quade and Hunter and a man Meyra thought was Brandt's cousin Tucker.

They were going to be okay now.

It was over.