Page 65 of Colton’s Inferno

Gazing at the road, Stu admitted that he felt sorry for the Harris family. Really, he did. He’d known Lucy’s brother, Derek. They used to party together. It was a damn shame that Derek had overdosed. But Stu had his own share of misery from fentanyl. A few years back, his addiction had been so bad that he started losing teeth.

That’s when his boss offered to help.

He’d truly gotten Stu straight. And hand to God, he was thankful. If it weren’t for the intervention, he’d have ended up like Derek.

But it also meant that Stu was beholden to the guy forever.

Being obligated to someone like his employer was better than death—but just barely. Stu had been asked to arrange all sorts of accidents. Sure, he’d killed people before. But he’d never shot someone. Or stabbed them to death. He’d never had to look them in the eyes when they croaked.

He readjusted his hands on the steering wheel. Ahead was the entrance to the ranch.

According to what he’d been told, nobody was home. It meant that Stu had time. He drove up the lane and parked behind a stand of trees. He turned off the ignition and opened the glove compartment. Inside was a box of latex gloves. He slipped a pair on and opened the car’s door. He paused before reaching for the gun. The firearm was heavy, cold, and felt like death. He shoved it into the back of his pants. It pulled on his jeans with each step.

At the front door, he reached for the knob. The handle turned, and he pushed the door open. He stepped inside and closed the door quietly. Stu looked around the foyer. There was a den to the left and stairs to the right. A short hallway connected the front of the house to the back.

He walked down the corridor. It ended in a kitchen. The scent of stale coffee hung in the air. A plate, covered with pancakes, sat on the table. Aside from the food, not much had changed over the decades. The cabinets were made of wood. The counter was covered in chipped Formica. The stove was a large gas range that was as old as the cabinets.

He picked up a pancake and shoved it in his mouth. As he chewed, he thought about the next several hours. He would wait for Lucy to come home. She would be exhausted and emotional after spending so much time at the hospital. And then, Stu would have to step out of the darkness with his gun drawn. She’d beg. She’d cry. Shooting an unarmed woman gave him no pleasure.

Or things could go differently. She might fight. Hell, she spent all day throwing bales of hay. Riding horses. Carrying feed. In short, she was strong. What if she was stronger than Stu?

He couldn’t go back to his boss after getting his ass kicked by Lucy.

But there was another way.

He turned on the burner. A blue flame circled the drip bowl. Stu leaned in closer and blew. The flame disappeared. The gas still leaked into the room with a hiss. He turned the control knob to low. The sound disappeared.

All Stu had to do now was leave.

Because once Lucy got home, it wouldn’t be long until she was dead.

Chapter 17

Lucy sat at Rusty’s bedside. She held his hand and smoothed her thumb over his papery skin. There was a large white bandage on his forehead and an IV was stuck in his arm. A tube ran down his throat. He was hooked up to several machines that beeped and whirred.

The room was small with only enough space for the hospital bed, Lucy’s chair, and the medical equipment. A TV was bolted into a corner, and the channel had been set to a twenty-four-hour sports station. A clock hung next to the TV. She checked the time. 11:15 a.m.

Five hours earlier, she’d been at Aiden’s apartment. What would have happened if she’d left earlier? Lucy couldn’t have stopped a heart attack. But she would have been able to call for help.

A black chasm opened in her soul. It was a place where light and life and love didn’t exist. It was the same place she went after Derek had died.

She looked at her grandfather. He was still here. But could she reach him?

“It’s me.” Her voice was swallowed by the other noises that filled the room. Clearing her throat, she tried again. “It’s me, Lucy. You were in an accident but you’re at the hospital.” What else was she supposed to say? Besides, she didn’t even know if he could hear her. Still, she continued, “You’re a strong man. You’re a fighter. You can handle this.”

Then, another thought came to Lucy, and it chilled her to her soul. What if her grandfather didn’t want to live? He was an old man. He’d worked hard all his life. Maybe he didn’t want to fight any longer. His wife was dead. His children were scattered across the country. He only had the ranch, and her.

His words from Friday night came back.

I’m not going to be here forever, Lucy.

Was he leaving her now?

Her eyes burned with tears that she refused to cry.

“Grandpa.” Her voice was hoarse, clogged with emotion. “Don’t you dare leave me. I don’t care if Grandma and Derek are waiting for you. Let them wait. I need you. Here. With me.” She paused. “I’m so sorry for everything.”

Her final words weren’t meant for her grandfather.