The Grave Between Us by Tal Bauer

Chapter Twenty-Five

Noah picked through the underbrush,his gun out and up, wrists crossed for stability, flashlight in his lower hand. The woods were thick and dark, choking off the sky and plunging the wildlife refuge into darkness, even at midday. Fog clung to the ground and to the branches overhead, encircling the world in a gauzy funeral shroud. Every breath was like inhaling through wet velvet. He moved forward, his ears open, listening. Ten feet away, Jacob silently mirrored him.

There it was again. Splashing. And something that sounded like a scream.

Ahead, the Raccoon River curved away from the bridge. If they’d been closer to the highway, he’d have thought the sound was traffic, the scream of an engine echoing over water. Sound traveled strangely in the woods.

But they weren’t near the highway.

Noah picked up his pace, leaping over downed trees and tangled brush, tearing through winter vines and what looked like poison ivy. Jacob came up on his side, shadowing him. They could see the river ahead, the muddy water flowing between the trees.

“Please!”

Splashing. A man’s deep grunts. Heavy breathing, like someone was working hard.

Noah came out of the tree line in a blur, weapon up, arms straight. He faced the shoreline and saw a bear of a man holding another man facedown in the shallow water. Blond strands floated in the gently lapping waves, hair that was just long enough to reach a man’s ears or brush his eyebrows at the end of a long day.

Noah took in the drowning man in one microsecond sweep, his gaze cataloging the jeans and shoes and jacket, clothes he knew by heart because he saw them every day. Saw those shoes kicked off on the bedroom floor, saw that jacket slung over the back of his kitchen chair. Cole.

“Ian Ingram!” Noah roared.

Ian jerked back. He stood and faced Noah. Sneered and then reached into the back of his jeans, pulling out a black Glock .40—

Noah fired.

His first shot grazed Ian’s cheek, ripping off two inches of skin and exposing his cheekbone, a shock of white and red against his tanned skin. Ian howled, and his hand came up to his face. His eyes flared, and took a step toward Noah—

Noah fired again. Ian took another step, this time toward Cole, reaching for his unmoving body in the water. Noah kept firing, unloading his weapon until it clicked, all his ammo spent. Ian staggered, and he dropped the gun at the river’s edge as his mouth opened and his hand rose. Blood spilled over his lips, streamed down his chin.

Noah had put fourteen rounds in the center of Ian’s chest, sent him stumbling into the river with the force of his shots. His eyes locked onto Ian’s, staring into his twin voids, what seemed like the edges of the world in their depths. He inhaled, held his breath—

Ian collapsed, falling backward with a cannonball splash. He hit the water and stared at the sky, unmoving, his arms and legs flung to the sides as the current tugged at his body.

Noah raced to the riverbank. Cole hadn’t moved. He should have moved, should have scrambled out of the river when Ian let go of him. He flipped Cole over and dragged him up the rocky shore. Cole’s face was pale, his lips blue, his chest still. “Cole!” Noah shouted. He slapped his lover’s cheek once, twice.

Jacob appeared beside him, ripping Cole’s jacket open, lifting his shirt. He laid his head on Cole’s pale chest, listening to his heart. A moment later, he laced his hands together and pressed on Cole’s chest, pumping. Cole jerked like a doll, like every thrust of Jacob’s was a punch.

“Breathe,” Jacob ordered, pausing his compressions. Noah grabbed Cole’s jaw and tilted it up. He pinched Cole’s nose, opened his jaw. Pressed his lips to Cole’s and exhaled.

I want forever, Noah. Forever with you.

Death is forever.

“Cole.” Noah ran his hand through Cole’s hair, stroked his fingers over Cole’s face. Jacob paused again, and Noah pressed his lips to Cole’s. Exhaled. Breathed his air into Cole’s lungs. Don’t leave me, Cole. Don’t show me what happiness is and then leave me all alone.

Jacob grunted. “Come on, Cole! Come on!” He was putting his whole weight into each thrust. Sirens wailed in the distance, the cavalry he had alerted roaring up the highway. Every sheriff, deputy, and police officer Noah knew was on the way, according to the radio.

They weren’t going to become an escort for Cole’s dead body. They weren’t going back to Des Moines with Cole’s corpse. They weren’t.

Jacob paused, and Noah pressed his lips to Cole’s again. He breathed out and felt Cole’s chest rise—

Cole sputtered, coughing. River water and mud came out of him, burbling over his lips and his cheeks and spattering Noah’s face. Jacob roared and pushed Cole onto his side, rolling him toward Noah.

Cole’s eyes were unfocused and terrified. He thrashed against Noah, trying to lurch away.

Noah lay in the mud as close as he could get to Cole. “You’re okay, you’re okay. He’s gone.” He cradled Cole’s cheeks in his hands. Brushed away the river’s muck on his lover’s face. Cole’s tears fell, almost scalding against Noah’s cold fingers. He wiped them away with his thumbs.

“Ian,” Cole croaked. He scanned the river, the woods, the clearing behind them, struggling to move, but still restrained. Jacob cursed and tore Cole free with his bare hands, snapping the zip ties with a tug and then going to work on the tape binding Cole’s legs.

Trembling, Cole grasped Noah’s arms and dug his fingers into his sleeves. “Where is he?”

“He’s dead,” Noah breathed. “He’s dead.”

Cole crumpled against Noah, wailing as he buried his face in Noah’s neck. Noah grabbed him, dragged him into his arms, rocked him in his hold. The river lapped at their feet, but he held on to his lover, whispering in his ear that he loved him, that it was over, that they were safe. That he wasn’t ever letting Cole go. That they were together. Forever.