Omg! Double upload! Last chapter! There's still an epilogue coming. No worries 😉 show me some love!

Chapter 69

Drake laughed, an insane sound. "Will you look at that! Your little boyfriend brought friends."

I leaned heavier into Bard, seeking his support. I was drained, physically, emotionally, and despite the gun trained on him, Drake terrified me.

Bard's hold tightened. "I've got you." That deep voice of his caressed my ear drums, soothed away the fear and healed me in a way nothing else ever would. He shuddered a breath, nuzzled my hair. "I'm so fucking sorry. I'm so sorry, Jessie."

He ran a hand down my back, a motion meant to comfort, but the action felt like flames flickering across the open wounds. I flinched and hissed.

Bard jerked his hand away and held me at arm's length. His eyes sharpened and cut, wide and filled with an enraged disbelief. Before I could utter a sound, he whipped me around, and lifted my shirt.

Bard stiffened. I couldn't see his face, but I could imagine it.

The world fell silent, and my eyes found Drake. He watched the man behind me, head tilted, an expression of avid wonder across his features. "Strange isn't it? You wouldn't even think it by the look of her. I guess every girl is ugly somewhere."

I could practically feel the rage that poured out from behind me. Bard stood for a long moment, then in a firm voice said, "Zeke, come get Jessie."

Zeke walked towards me, then sucked in a sharp breath when he caught sight of my exposed skin. More silence, then, "What do you plan to do, boy?"

"Just hold her. Keep her here." He stepped away, eyes locked Drake. "Boe... tie him to that tree."

Boe directed Drake over with the gun still pressed against his head. "Walk your ass on, you sorry piece of shit." He gripped Drake's hands, then lowered the gun long enough to grab a bundle of thin rope out of the pack on his back.

He bound them tight, the same way Drake's men had done to me.

"I've never been on this side of things before!" Drake tilted his head back, eyes searching for me.

Bard ignored him. He exuded absolute calm as he walked into the trees and took his time picking a stick from the shrubbery. He found one, held it firm, tested the weight, then turned and locked his eyes with mine. They bore into me, conveying through their depths what words could never accomplish.

"Rip his shirt," he directed to Boe, his voice rough and eyes never leaving mine.

"Hey, now! This is a nice shirt! Tell him, sweetheart. I didn't rip your shirt. I just pulled it up a little."

Boe grabbed the shirt, jerked it down the center, and the material came apart with a sound that seemed to echo across the open field.

Bard's eyes stayed with mine for another long moment. He held the stick out to his side and ignored the taunts coming from the man behind him. It was just me and him. Us and every memory we'd fought so hard to forget.

Drake pulled at his bindings, twisted in an attempt to get a look at me. "Jessie!" He swung back and forth. "Are you watching? Pay attention. I'm going to show you how its done."

Bard's eyes hardened. He turned with momentum. His arm lifted, whole body twisted, and the blow he landed was so forceful, blood burst free and ran down in rivulets. Like a waterfall. Flesh split and dark red billowed out.

Drake grunted then laughed. "Damn you hit hard! Jessie, you really outdid yourself this time! A few years, and he'll probably be beating you better than I ever could!"

It felt amazing to watch. I wasn't sure if that was a good thing, but I didn't care. Seeing Bard beat him, seeing Drake suffer the way he'd made me suffer, it purified. Every memory was drowned out by this one moment. This massive event left to forever stand out in my mind. The day he got what he deserved. The day Bard made him pay.

Bard didn't pause. He swung again, the same spot, ignoring the cries for mercy that erupted from Drake's lips, the screams of agony that burst from strangled lungs. Two hits was all it took to break him.

He was nothing, less than nothing.

I was more.

Bard was merciless. He beat away at Drake faster and harder than what should have been possible. He didn't pause to catch his breath, didn't stop to rest his arm. Each hit happened in quick succession, left, right, left, right. His muscles bulged with each swing. The world forgotten to him. Nothing existed except for the man before him, and the branch in his hand.

Even long after Drake fell limp, and his screams silenced, Bard didn't stop. He beat away, over and over, until sweat beaded his skin and roars of anguish ripped past his lungs to add fuel to the force of each blow.

"He's unconscious, son," Zeke called out in a soothing tone.

Bard stumbled back and took a few paces away. I waited for him, sure he was done. I expected him to keep walking and go somewhere to cool off.

But he didn't.

He made it five steps before he spun on his heels and stormed back. With a roar of outrage, he gripped Drake's skull, pulled it back and slammed his face into the tree. Then again. Over and over. Blood flowed free and covered the bark, ran down his arm, blanketed the ground.

Boe cautiously placed a hand to his shoulder and tried to coax him away, but Bard shoved him back.

"I'm not done." He snatched a knife from his pocket and cut the rope.

Drake flopped to the ground.

Bard circled him, eyes blazing. He stared down with a look more befitting a predator. "You should never have come here," he said. "You should have never touched her." He kicked his stomach, his head.

"Bard," Zeke called again, voice overly soft.

He didn't stop. He kicked again, then stomped, his stomach, his face, over and over until Drake's skull was crushed, completely unrecognizable.

Only then did he finally take a step back. He stared down at the lifeless pile, shoulders heaving, hands fisted. "You think he's dead?" he asked, jaw clenched. His leg moved one last time to kick the body, then he spit at the ground and turned to lock eyes with mine.

He headed straight towards me, steps long and sure. The moment I was within reach, he carefully lifted me into his arms, and turned to Zeke. "Burn him."

"Where are you going?" Zeke asked.

"I'm getting her the fuck out of here." His face stayed forward, completely focused. He didn't jar me, despite the obvious aggression rolling off of him. Bard held me gently, making as little contact with my back as possible.

"Wait!" I called out. "I need to check on Fred!"

Bard looked down at me, then turned back to Zeke. "Check on Jessie's friend. I'm taking her home."

Zeke nodded, and his eyes darted to the old man still laying on the ground.

I bit my lip, torn on what to do. I wanted to check for myself, to make sure that he was okay, but one look at Bard's stern features let me know that wasn't an option.

As if reading my mind, Bard said, "Zeke and Boe will take care of him." His eyes stayed glued to the space in front of him. Pace quick and determined.

I nodded my agreement even though he wasn't looking, then rested my head against his shoulder.

"How did you get Zeke and Boe out here?" I asked, voice quiet.

Bard focused on his steps, dipped beneath branches and dodged holes, all the while as if I were weightless. "They came out to check on you and saw the bikes. They tracked us." His jaw twitched. "It's a good thing they did. They found me washed up by the river, damn near frozen to death. If they hadn't..." He let the sentence drop.

Karma...

"I don't deserve you." He shook his head, refused to look at me. "I promised you he'd never touch you again, and I let–"

"No!" I gripped his beard and pulled his face to mine.

Bard stopped walking. He looked at me, eyes full of guilt, expression tight.

"You saved me, Bard. You saved me, and you dealt with him."

It was over. Drake was dead. He wasn't hiding around some corner or lurking in the shadows. For the first time in years, I could breathe. Each gulp of air came fresh and cool into my deprived lungs, and relief coursed through my body in waves.

I sighed and lifted a hand up to cup Bard's neck. It was over. "I never believed you. You told me more than once. You said you'd kill him. You said you'd protect me. But it had seemed so fucking absurd to even think it..."
I squeezed his shoulder and smiled. Moisture filled my eyes, blurred my vision. "But you did." My voice broke. A half sob- half laugh broke free. "You did it. It's over. He can't–"

Bard pulled me closer, buried his face into my hair, and we stood. We just stood there, surrounded by nature, broken but alive, and I was free.

"I love you so much," he said, voice harsh. He sucked in a breath, kissed my temple, then turned back to the task of getting me home with renewed purpose.

He carried me all the way, for miles, and when the cabin came into view, he didn't stop until we were inside and he'd laid my body belly down onto the bed.

"Don't move. I'm going to get the first aid kit."

I nodded, but he'd already rushed out of the room.

When he came back, Bard cleaned my wounds and bandaged each one, so gently, so carefully. It reminded me of the time he'd stitched my hand, and I couldn't believe what had come from that. I couldn't believe how much had changed.

Each time I'd hiss, he'd pause, caress my hair, and utter sweet words in a soothing tone. "It's over. I've got you."

When the task was complete, he took the space beside me, wrapped an arm around my waist, and put his eyes level with mine.

I lifted a hand and laid it across his cheek. It felt as if I'd died in those woods, and this was heaven. "It's over." Tears pooled in my eyes again as I spoke the words out loud. "It's really over."

Bard expression softened. His gaze ran over my face, my hairline, my cheeks, drinking me in before meeting my eyes again. "No, Tequila. This is just the beginning. Our memories have barely begun."

Aaaahhhh 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 There's still an epilogue to come, but gosh! Gets me every time!