He couldn’t breathe, frozen in place as he watched McGraw shove Taron’s chest hard, as if he were taking revenge for the kill weeks later. This couldn’t be. It couldn’t. People didn’t recover from head wounds so fast, and Colin couldn’t see a trace of scars or swelling either.
As if the murder had never happened.
Taron stood his ground, stepping into the guy’s personal space.
McGraw’s teeth glinted when he snarled, reminiscent of a dog about to strike. “I know it was you, no matter how many times you deny it!”
Taron spread his arms, and when McGraw mocked the gesture, twisting his face as if he were imitating a chimpanzee, Colin’s mouth fell open at the offensive behavior. And then he realized that Taron didn’t have an easy time communicating with people who didn’t sign. Sure, he could express his thoughts on paper, but one couldn’t exactly diffuse a fight by writing ‘Get off my property!’ and showing it to a furious man.
So Taron pushed at McGraw’s chest with one hand and pointed for him to leave with the other.
McGraw’s face twisted, and he spat to the ground between them. “My brother was here! I can fucking smell him. What the fuck did you do to him?”
His brother.
Colin’s heart skipped a beat when he realized this stranger wasn’t a nightmare come to life. Twin? It now made sense why McGraw had a hunch who his brother’s killer was, despite not witnessing the murder.
Colin’s head pulsed, as if his cerebrospinal fluid was about to boil over. This was his chance. McGraw was a big guy. Surely, together—
McGraw pulled out a handgun, and Colin’s guts twisted.
He didn’t want Taron dead.
It made zero sense. Even though he could put himself in Taron’s shoes, his own wellbeing should’ve been a priority. He needed to escape, even if Taron was to pay a heavy price for his actions. He knew this. He knew he shouldn’t worry about Taron before himself, but his instincts kept him quiet even when one of the chickens unexpectedly rubbed her wing against his calf.
Taron held his hands up, his back tense.
McGraw waved the gun around like a madman and spoke as if every single word needed to be spat out. “You’re an outsider! You don’t deserve to own this land!”
Rio emerged from behind the cabin, lured by the noise, and approached the unfamiliar man fearlessly, but Colin’s attention was drawn back to the gun. He didn’t know whether McGraw was drunk, high, or simply too furious to control his body, but his outstretched arm shook. If McGraw, in his rage, fired at Taron from so close, he’d kill him on the spot.
Colin’s muscles were stiff as if they had calcified, but when something poked the back of his knee, he let out a strangled yelp. A quick look down confirmed it was only a chicken, but McGraw’s attention was already on the henhouse, and Colin’s guts twisted further.
“What else do you have here? Where’s my brother, you fuck?”
But when McGraw stepped forward, Taron stood in his way, and shoved him again despite the gun pointed at his chest. Colin’s blood curdled. If he wasn’t here, Taron wouldn’t be taking such risks
He was worried what McGraw would have done to him if he found him here—naked and with a collar around his neck. Taron might have taken him against his will, but he was also the guarantee of Colin’s safety.
His gaze swiped over the coop to settle on the curious chicken, which was now pecking something off the floor. Without thinking, he picked the bird up and tossed it through the gap left by the door. Its loud clucking was like a battle cry, but when Colin stepped closer to see if the distraction has been effective, a bullet hit the wooden doorframe, sending splinters into the air. He froze, falling to his knees just in time to catch a glimpse of Taron smashing his fist into McGraw’s jaw. He had the gun in hand and pointed it at McGraw without hesitation.
The guy stilled, his hands rising in submission. His skin was pale, with bright red spots. “I told my guys where I’m going. You pull that trigger, you’re as good as dead. But before they string you up, they’ll do the same to all your fucking cats!”
Taron growled so loudly even Colin could hear him and pointed to the car with the gun in a universal gesture of ‘get the fuck out’. McGraw moved, unsuccessfully attempting to kick Rio on the way. Taron shot, and while Colin couldn’t see it well, the metallic thud suggested he must have hit McGraw’s car.
“You sonofabitch!” McGraw yelled, but with the firearm out of his hand, he had to follow orders, and climbed into the vehicle. “This isn’t the end, Hauff!”
Colin was back by the door, tempted to run out of the coop, but for what? He could have tried to run while Taron was distracted, but his mind was way more preoccupied with the danger to the homestead.