Page 65 of Outlawed

I flash my badge at anyone who approaches me until I get close enough to one of the incinerators. I throw the clothes and my gun into the next batch to be burned. I look down at my hand and the badge that I was once so fucking proud of. But each undercover op tarnished that gold a little more until the badge felt like an albatross around my neck. I squeeze it tight before I cock my arm and throw it into the rubble. I make my way back to the truck feeling lighter than I have in years.

It’s late by the time I make it back to Crowhurst, but I had no desire to stay in a motel when I could be home in my woman’s arms. I blow out a steadying breath when I think of her, wondering what I’ll do if she ever finds out the truth—that I was once an agent sent to investigate her and the ranch. I don’t have the immunity to her gifts that Austin does, but it doesn’t matter. She can set me on fire for all I care. I’m not leaving. Not now, not ever, and that’s something my little witch is going to have to get used to.

Epilogue 3

Shepard

“Where the fuck did you find him?” I ask Austin, shoving open the basement door.

“You don’t want to know. Turns out he was a witness to a hit. His testimony earned him immunity from any charges, and WITSEC gave him a whole new identity. Six years later, after a leak involving another case his handler was working on, it was deemed necessary for all the handler’s people to get new identities again as a precaution. It was thought someone was using his list as a hit list. The marshal was killed, and anyone he was handling was moved to someone else. A clusterfuck for sure, and one that made it nearly impossible to find this motherfucker.”

I stomp down the steps and stare at the man formerly known as Leroy Jones—one of the men who killed my family.

“It’s been a long time coming,” Austin says, stepping up beside me.

“Too fucking long. When I first came to you, and you found Fargo in six months, I was fucking elated because finally they would pay and this shit would be over.”

“And it would have been if this fucker hadn’t had help from our own damn government,” Austin complains as I walk over to the fucker hanging from a hook by his wrists.

He lifts his head, sensing my approach. His face is swollen, his nose and lips bloody as he takes me in. When his gaze snaps to my badge, he chokes with relief. “Please, you have to help me. That guy’s crazy. He kidnapped me. He’s gonna kill me.”

I reach out to pat his head. “No, he’s not.” I feel him relax a fraction before I grip his hair and yank his head back. “I’m the one who’s gonna kill you.”

“No. No, you’re a cop. You can’t.”

“You know what I was before I was a cop? I was a son. I was a brother, and you took that all from me. You and that fuckwit Fargo.”

The color bleeds from his face at the mention of his old partner’s name.

“Ah, you remember him, huh? You should. Funny how when I spoke to him, he blamed you for everything.”

“He’s a liar.”

“Maybe he was, maybe he wasn’t. I really didn’t care, because what he wasn’t was innocent. That title was reserved for my family.”

“I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry for everything. I was a different person back then. I was high all the time or looking for my next fix. It’s all I could think about. I’m not that guy now. I got clean. I got married. I have a wife and a son. Please, I’m begging you, don’t do this to me. Don’t do this to them.”

“I didn’t do this. You did, the second my little brother took his last breath.”

Austin moves up beside me once more and hands me his hunting knife, the same one he handed me years ago to take care of Fargo. My hand doesn’t shake when I take it this time. I’ve been waiting for this moment for what feels like a lifetime. While he’s still alive, I’ll always have one foot in the past. I can’t do that anymore, not with Calliope in my life. She deserves better than loving half a man.

With that in mind, I plunge the knife into his side. It slips between his ribs, ripping a scream from him before I pull it out and stab him again. I allow myself to get lost in the past one final time as I stab him over and over with a frenzy that’s been years in the making. By the time I’m done, I know he’s dead, but it doesn’t stop me from dragging the knife across his throat. I cut so deep I almost sever his head from his body. Only then do I feel like I’m done, like I’m free. Now my family can finally rest in peace.

“Feel better?”

I turn to Austin, who is watching from the far side of the room, with zero judgment on his face.

“Yeah. I do.”

“Good. Now you’d better strip, sheriff.”

I look down at myself. There isn’t a part of me that isn’t covered in blood.

“Fuck.”

“Don’t sweat it. I’m pretty good at getting blood stains out.” He grins at me, and it’s anything but friendly.

I don’t argue. I strip until I’m buck-ass naked and then call him every name under the sun when he sprays me with freezing water.