Levi grumbles, dragging Garth to the center column in the room, while Santiago gets the fire going.
After Garth is tied up and the fire is crackling, Santiago steps outside and returns with a handful of snow. Santiago tosses it into Garth’s face, and he sputters awake. “Wakey, wakey.”
“Wha—What’s going on?” Garth struggles against the ropes. “Did you tie me up?” He glares up at Santiago. When he spots me, he begs,
“Sheriff, you have to help me.”
My arms cross my chest. “I don’t have to do shit.”
“Why are you doing this?” The color drains from his face as he realizes that I’m not his savior here.
I’m his consequence.
Santiago squats, getting in Garth’s face. “You’re notthatstupid, are you, Garth?”
“I haven’t done anything wrong.” Garth struggles to control his quavering.
Levi stands behind Santiago’s shoulder. “Evan told us everything.”
“N—no. He wouldn’t,” Garth stammers.
Santiago drops his head to an angle, faking sympathy and pointing to the floor. “Oh, but he did. He sat in this very spot and spilled his guts.”
Garth’s breathing increases as he thrashes. “Let me go!”
“Shut up.” A loud slap echoes in the room as Santiago brings his open hand across Garth’s face. “Be a man. Own your shit.” Santiago rises to his full height.
Garth is adamant in his denial. “But I didn’t?—”
Santiago bends, pulling his fist back and punching Garth in the eye. “This can be over quickly if you stop lying.”
Garth leans forward as far as he can, groaning from the pain.
Levi tilts his head and informs Garth pointedly, “We have Evan’s photos.”
“We have Evan’s photos.”
“I didn’t help him with that. I tried to get him to stop.” Garth's brows tip up. Santiago makes a show of signing and trudges over to the fire to retrieve his branding iron.
When Levi pulls a hunting knife from his belt and cuts Garth’s shirt open, Garth's eyes take on a haunted terror. “No, no, no.”
Santiago ignores Garth’s plea, pressing the red-hot end into Garth’s flesh. Garth screams, on the verge of passing out from the pain.
The stench of burning flesh used to make me sick to my stomach, but now I'm used to the unpleasant smell.
Santiago hands over the branding iron to Levi to return to the fireplace. “Try again. How many?”
Tears track down Garth’s cheeks. “I’m sorry. I’m so s—sorry.”
“How many, Garth?” Santiago asks again.
Garth continues to weep, barely able to get out the words. “I didn’t mean to do it. I didn’t mean to.”
My blood heats as I listen to him. “That’s another lie.”
“Why do you have to make me do this?” Santiago shakes his head in mock disappointment as Levi hands over the branding iron.
“Stop! Please, stop!” Garth kicks his legs, trying to keep Santiago away, but his efforts are fruitless.
