Page 113 of Brands

God.

Small metal shapes. They look like treble hooks? But pointy on all sides?

That thing looks lethal. Mixed with the lure of the sweet cob, I bet they gobbled them up.

And it tore them from the inside out.

I don’t stop the tears, but fumble for my phone.

“Blue? Something bad happened,” I sob when he answers.

“Are you okay?” Panic laces his tone.

“I am. But that fucking cunt, Lucy broke out.” My voice cracks in anger. If she hadn’t been so damn stupid and stayed in her pen, she would have been fine. “Someone put out a bag of molasses feed and it had spikey things in it. She ate it, Blue. She’s dead. So are three others.” I take a shuddering breath and step away.

I can’t even look at them.

“Libby. I need you to go back to the barn and call Wade right away. Make sure you have your pistol. Do you have it with you?” He sounds pained, like every word is through his teeth.

“No. I don’t have it, I was in the parlor.” But I follow his advice and start walking briskly back towards the barn.

Is the person out there now, watching?

I’m out in the open.

It makes my skin crawl thinking they could be staring down the barrel at me.

That prods me to trot faster.

“I got you on the cameras now, baby. I need to put some out over that pasture.” Pain bleeds through his words. “I’m sorry.”

“This isn’t your fault.” But if I ever find out who did this…

“Libby, it’s my job to protect you, especially since your dad isn’t around anymore.” He pauses. “I’m leaving now. I’ll be there in a few hours.”

Damn it. That isn’t what I meant to happen.

“Blue, I’ll call Wade. Finish what you need to do.” I hate that it’s just Devon and I, but it’s not the first time we’ve been the only ones here.

“I love you, Libby. I’ll see you soon.” He hurries off the phone as I reach the parlor.

“Everything okay?” Devon calls over his shoulder as he sprays shit off the udder of the cow in front of him.

“No,” I say shortly. “Lucy’s dead, along with three others.”

The water stops as he turns. “No shit? How?”

All I can do is shake my head. Anything more and I might break down.

Dialing the number to the sheriff’s station, it seems like it takes forever before someone answers.

Then twice as long before Wade comes on the line.

“Hey, Libby. How are you?” His words barely register before I’m spilling what happened in one long breath.

“Shit,” he exhales. “I’ll be right there.”

Devon and I manage to finish the morning chores by the time Wade arrives.

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