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“I’m leaving you, Noah.”
A frenzied desperation shone in his eyes. “I’m sorry! I’ll change! I’ll do whatever you want. Please! You want me to challenge Rosamond? I’ll do it! You want me to sacrifice myself and fight the militia? I’ll do it! Just tell me what to do!”
She literally just told you. You're too late.
“I hope you’ll change, Noah. But not for me. That has to come from you.”
There you go. Because if he's doing it for Hannah then nothing will ever change becaue he's just trying to keep her. He will say exactly what she wants to hear but subconsciously unmoved.
She remembered her reasons. Charlotte and Milo were everything. To give them a future, Hannah was willing to fight, to die.
A dim part of him whispered that he shouldn’t leave his son alone—he’d never left him before—but his despair drove him on.
Speaking of the boy's safety. Noah. Freaking idiot.
How cruel was the universe? To steal his wife, then bring her miraculously back to life, only for her to betray him.
The universe? My guy take some blame. This is on you.
He was different. He didn’t recognize himself; he didn’t want to.
He told her everything. How Hannah had left him. Abandoned him. Rejected him.
She’d ruined him.
You ruined yourself.
“Hannah is not who I thought she was. You were right.”
Brooooo! Wow!
“I did everything I could. I’ve tried everything. Nothing works. She’s already decided!”
This is pissing me off. You did NOTHING! Tried NOTHING! Ugh!
“But why? I don’t understand.”
Hannah gave a full break down of what you did wrong yet you don't understand.
“I can’t tell you why she would so willingly turn her back on her beautiful family…but I have an idea.” Noah looked up at her with blurred eyes. “What?” “Liam Coleman.” A surge of jealous outrage blasted through him, hot as a furnace. Rosamond clucked her tongue. “He came waltzing in, saw a young, unstable woman in a vulnerable position, and took full advantage of it. He’s twisted her, Noah. Brainwashed her. He took what didn’t belong to him. That’s what he does. Takes things that belong to other men.” “This is his fault. Hannah would never do this on her own.”
Some distant part of his brain registered that Rosamond had said nothing about her own desire for revenge. A tiny warning bell clanged in his head, but he ignored it. There was no room for anything but his anger, his spite and bitterness, his desolation.
Everything she said rang with a truth he’d once feared but was learning to embrace.
You’re going too far, a voice whispered in his mind.
“Do this, son, and it all ends. You get everything back.”
He said, “I’ll do it.”
His goal was to thin the numbers using guerilla tactics. The more militia he could eliminate now, the better the town’s chances of success when the time came to fight.
When the militia realized they were under attack, they would up their guard. They’d be alert and trigger-happy, not careless and bored as they were now.
Today, he would take out as many as he could in one fell swoop. Get in, get dirty, get the hell out.
He’d spent every day since his arrival in Fall Creek preparing for it. Before he’d left Winter Haven, he’d memorized the patrol schedules and shift changes.
Hannah had noticed a dozen militia milling around several vehicles, gearing up for another raid. She’d alerted him.
Quinn would’ve jumped at the chance, but he wasn’t about to bring a child into a battle. She kept begging him to fight, but he couldn’t say yes. If anything happened to her on his watch, he’d never forgive himself.
The snowmobiler hit the wire at fifty miles an hour. A loud twang splintered the air. The razor wire instantly decapitated him.
Wait… I wasn't ready for that.
They should’ve been alert for trouble, but they were comfortable, cocksure and complacent, not expecting an ambush in their own territory. They were about to pay a steep price for their mistake.
Shrapnel tore through the truck. The windows shattered. The tangos in back screamed as scorched metal chunks ripped through their bodies, penetrating their unprotected bellies, backs, thighs, and chests.
The wounded driver of the first truck—a woman—was screaming into her radio. “Reaper Team to Base! We’re under attack! We need you!”
Liam squeezed the trigger. She wouldn’t be radioing in any more warnings.
They were still firing on his initial position, not realizing that he was about to flank them.
He didn’t have a fresh mag to reload for his M4, and only one magazine remained for his Glock. He was out of grenades. Luckily, the militia had just fixed that problem for him. He strode onto the road, cautious and alert, and stripped the dead militia of anything of value.
He didn’t spare a second thought for the carnage he’d wrought. There were many things he lost sleep over, but not this.
“It’s time, Rosamond. You know it’s time.” Rosamond closed her eyes. She knew what he meant. What he’d been asking for from the beginning. She’d resisted out of the kindness of her heart, out of her magnanimous generosity. There was no kindness left in her. She opened her eyes. “Yes.”
“We are done helping the spoiled, ungrateful residents of Fall Creek,” Rosamond said. “We will not feed them. We will not give them shelter or firewood or gasoline to heat their houses, and we will no longer defend them.” Noah stared at her, aghast.
“They can’t defend themselves!” Noah cried. “They’re mostly women, children, and elderly. They’re tired and hungry. How are they going to eat?” “Not our problem anymore.” It pained her to say it. She had loved this town like a mother. “You brought in the militia to keep Fall Creek safe!” “Things change,” she said coldly. “You know that better than anyone.”
“That wasn’t the deal.”
Oh well right?! You ignored everything.
Noah stared at her, mouth agape, stunned.
Bro shut up. You already knew. Don't act surprised now.
“Go then!” Sutter motioned at the door. “You’re the police chief of nothing, now. We don’t need you anymore.”
“Besides, it’s a girl. Girls are the weaker sex. A female could never replace my son.”
Liam was surprised there wasn’t a bounty on his head like the Wild West days. Maybe that was next.
They would get Milo as soon as they could.
“We need to hit them hard,” Perez said. “Hard enough to end this.” “You mean that?” Liam asked. “Hell yes, I do.”
“We made an oath to protect and serve. Our job is to protect the town from all threats, including those from within. We’ll do what we have to do.”
“We aren’t him.”
Liam nodded. He didn’t trust the Fall Creek cops, though they’d been solid—Reynoso, Perez, Truitt, and Hayes in particular. Bishop trusted them. That was something.
He would restrain himself. But the second any of them pulled a weapon, all bets were off. Consequences be damned.
“You’re acting like children, Dwayne Lawson and Kale Burrows!” Corinne said. “And Albert Edlin, you’ve said your piece. Now let me say mine. Four days ago, this man saved my boy’s life. The militia almost killed Jonas. Would have, if not for him. Liam Coleman risked his life and limb for a dumb kid. No one else, just him. A stranger. You people have known Jonas your entire lives. Would any of you have done what this man did?”
“That’s what I thought. Shut your pieholes and let these people put their lives on the line to protect you and yours.”
“No fighting in my establishment. You got an issue with a soldier protecting our town? March right out and don’t bother coming back.”
“Didn’t mean no disrespect,”
Always a tough guy until they get flattened.
