Page 75 of Crossfire Creek Vengeance

Corbin fired.

The gunshot cracked through the cemetery, and Wynn dropped hard, a heavy thud against the wet ground. Deacon didn’t waste a second.

“Move,” Deacon whispered.

Jessa sprinted with him, keeping low, weaving between headstones while Roman came in from the side. Corbin’s attention jerked between Wynn’s fallen body and the three of them closing in.

He lifted his gun toward Roman.

“Roman!” Jessa shouted.

Deacon fired first.

Corbin jerked back, his gun slipping from his hand as he crumpled beside the mausoleum.

Jessa and Deacon rushed him. Roman closed in from the other side. Together, they swarmed Corbin, kicking his gun away and tearing the detonator device from his grip. Jessa grabbed his wrist and hauled it behind his back while Deacon forced him flat with his back on the grass.

Deacon saw the blood. Lots of it, spreading fast beneath Corbin. His breaths came in wet, rattling pulls, each one weaker than the last.

Sheriff Martelli and the deputies rushed to Wynn, who lay crumpled several yards away. Roman sprinted toward the second explosive, dropping to his knees to disable it.

Deacon and Jessa stayed focused on Corbin.

The man blinked up at them, unfazed by the fact that he was dying. No fear. No regret. Just a smug, ugly satisfaction that made her stomach twist.

“You killed Lauren,” she said, her voice raw. “Didn’t you?”

Corbin gave the smallest nod. “She deserved it,” he rasped. “She thought she was better than the rest of us. Thought she could play games and not lose.” Blood bubbled at the corner of his mouth. “So I made her lose.”

Deacon heard Roman mutter some profanity and looked to see him striding toward them. He’d obviously heard what Corbin had just said.

Corbin’s gaze went unfocused for a moment, then snapped to Deacon with startling clarity. “I tried to set that bitch up for that rancher’s murder, but you dropped the fucking ball on that. You let her go.”

“Because she wasn’t guilty,” Deacon spat out. “Because you’re a fucking whiny coward.”

Despite the fact he was dying, anger shot through Corbin’s eyes. “I’m glad I did it. I wish I’d done more.” He stopped, coughed, and blood oozed out from the corner of his mouth. Every breath was a challenge. “Wynn failed me. I tried to fuel his anger but it wasn’t enough. He failed.”

“You used him,” Jessa snapped.

Corbin managed a smile. He was proud of what he’d done. “You always thought you were untouchable,” he said, almost conversational. “But everything burns eventually. I hope Roman, Deacon, and you burn in hell.”

Roman leaned in and got right in Corbin’s face. “The only one burning will be you, asshole. Go ahead and die, you sonofabitch.”

Corbin opened his mouth, trying to speak. But he failed. His head lolled to the side. His chest rose once more, then stilled.

Their mother’s killer was finally dead.

Chapter Twenty

Jessa and Deacon leaned against his cruiser while chaos moved around them. Responders flooded the cemetery, the bomb squad giving the all-clear a few minutes earlier. Now the ME and the CSIs were working the scene. There hadn’t been a need for EMTs.

Corbin and Wynn were both dead.

The cold air felt heavier than it should, thick with gunpowder and broken stone and too many damn memories. Deacon watched the techs move around Wynn’s body. He didn’t feel satisfaction. Not even relief. Just a dull, unsettled ache in his chest.

Wynn had been a broken man long before tonight. He’d been manipulated, weaponized, shoved into a darkness he never had the strength to crawl out of. Deacon hated what the man had done, hated the terror he’d brought into Jessa’s life, but seeing him sprawled in front of Lauren’s shattered grave was a punch straight to the ribs.

Corbin, though… Deacon had no regrets about that bastard.