Page 103 of Legacy of Lies
He picked up Hank’s knife on the floor and sawed at the ropes around her wrists.
As the ropes fell free, she crumpled to the ground with a gurgled cry. He patted her on the shoulder, and she flinched and cried out.
Kneeling next to her, he chafed her purple, cold hands until some color returned.
“Better?” he asked.
She shook her hands, but then her expression contorted from relief to pain. She hissed, “So sting-y. Oh my God, they hurt.” Studying her hands in her lap, she said, “I can’t lift them.”
Rubbing more gently, he kept up the friction on her hands. He wouldn’t be responsible for his actions if Hank had permanently damaged her nerves. “You’ll be able to soon, I promise.”
Careful of her bruise, he dabbed her tears with his sleeve. Unable to clutch at him, she flopped her hands near the front of his shirt. Her effort to hold him? Heartbreaking.
“What about Zach?” she whispered. Her eyes were wide and searching.
“We got to him in time. He’ll be okay.”
“Thank God.” She sagged against him.
Her sobs cracked open his heart. Tonight, he had nearly lost two people who meant the world to him.
A groan got his attention.
“Don’t move,” he ordered Sara. Bad news if the blow to Hank’s head hadn’t kept that man down. Garrison didn’t know how much more fight he had left in the tank. “What the hell, Hank?” he yelled as the man sat up and staggered to his knees.
He spat to the side. “This is all your fault, Taggart.”
“You’re out of your mind.”
“If you’d fucking sold me the ranch, none of this shit would have ever happened.”
“Excuse me?” Such twisted logic defied reason.
“You had your chance to end this peacefully. Sell the ranch and everyone would have been happy. But no, you people are stubborn. Attracted too much attention.” Hank whispered between bloody lips, “That’s why we’re going to destroy all the Taggarts.”
“One, we’re not interested in selling anything. It’s our land. Two, why do you want it so much? And three, why do you want to destroy my family?”
“That’s for us to know and you never to know.”
“Anything to do with the mining?”
“The fuck you know!”
Like coming off a springboard, Hank launched himself from a crouched position and drove his head into Garrison’s midsection, knocking him to the ground. Unable to breathe, Garrison blinked back dimming vision. The fists pummeling against his head helped to wake him the hell up as stars burst behind his eyes with each blow.
Hank’s well-placed blow shot pain straight through to the back of Garrison’s skull. His nose made a sickening, wet crunch.
The guy was getting the better of him. This bastard was stronger than any person should be. But Garrison couldn’t fail.
Because if he went out of commission, who would protect Sara?
Hank had departed the realm of insanely pissed off and irrational four punches ago. Homicidal would be the next stop. If he neutralized Garrison, then he’d kill her for sure.
Garrison was the only thing that stood between Hank and Sara.
A snap of wood registered in the periphery of his hearing. When Hank turned toward the sound, Garrison landed a solid uppercut on the man’s jaw. Damn, stung the knuckles. Where was Vaughn when he needed him? His brother loved brawling and MMA shit. He’d be perfect in this fight.
Garrison blinked against blurry vision that created four Saras and four awful Hanks.
