Page 117 of When the Smoke Clears

His lips curl into a sneer. “Because you forced my hand. You really aren’t very bright, are you?”

Hatred sears through me, raw and feral. My voice slices out before I can stop it. “You don’t strike me as the type to get your own hands dirty. Isn’t that what Ares is for?”

The forest stills. The air thickens, suffocating.

Nathaniel’s head snaps toward me, eyes narrowing to slits. All arrogance drains from his face, replaced by something jagged and unstable. Fear.

He spins me around so violently my teeth rattle, his hands locking on my shoulders like vices. His pupils are pinpoints, sweat gleaming at his temples. The gun trembles in his fist.

“What did you just say?”

I meet his stare, letting my own fear fuel me into something sharper. “You’ve got people who do your dirty work. People like Ares.”

His mask cracks, terror flickering beneath the surface. “Where did you hear that name?”

I shrug with as much bravado as I can muster.

The gun clatters to the ground. In an instant, he’s on me, hands clamped around my throat. His thumbs gouge into my windpipe, crushing. My airway closes with brutal precision.

I claw at his wrists, nails digging trenches into his skin. My legs thrash uselessly, heels scraping against the dirt. My vision narrows, black edges bleeding into the corners. Stars explode in my head. My body screams for air.

Nathaniel’s face hovers inches from mine, a mask of fury twisted into something monstrous. His spit sprays my cheek as he snarls, “Do you have any idea what you’ve stepped into?”

I swing blindly, fists connecting with nothing but air. My nails rake across his knuckles, and I feel the faint tear of skin. If I die here, at least his DNA will be embedded in my flesh, a trace for Luke to find.

I’m seconds from collapsing when, suddenly, his grip loosens. He hurls me aside like a broken doll.

My throat burns raw. Each gasp drags like sandpaper.

He paces like a caged animal, ranting under his breath. Then he stalks back, scoops up the pistol, and shoves it hard into my ribs. “Move.”

I cough violently, voice barely a rasp. “Tell me…tell me what you’ve done.”

He whirls on me, eyes bloodshot. “Everything! I built this family, this town. I made the deals, I took the risks. All Luke had to do was follow my lead. But no—he had to play sheriff.”

Terror should freeze me, but all I see is desperation. Nathaniel Wild has lost control. He’s unraveling before my eyes. And for the first time, I see not just the monster, but the coward trembling beneath the mask.

I rise on unsteady legs, each muscle screaming. “So, now what?”

He stares back, disbelief twisting his features, before his expression hardens into a snarl. “Now, someone has to pay for this mess.”

He scoffs at the word. “That’s the only way I can restore order here. You need to go. Then life can go back to normal.”

He continues mumbling to himself as he herds me along the trail, one hard shove at a time. “With you out of the way, Luke will crumble. Finally. Then we can put all of this behind us.”

The trees thin by degrees until the sky opens over us. Somewhere far below, water snarls over stone.

“Keep moving.”

I go, counting steps, breathes, heartbeats. I angle the watch on my wrist so the face points outward, the metal biting my skin. If Gabe is tracking me, let the sky see the signal.

Let anyone see it—a broken twig. I twist free and flick into the moss at ankle height. Breadcrumbs of hope disguised as litter.

“I didn’t drag Luke into anything,” I say, because silence feels like consent. “He chose who he is.”

“He chose wrong.” Nathaniel doesn’t look at me. “He always has.”

“Because he wouldn’t choose you.”