Tim Burns, the second born son, had been obsessed with her since she'd come to live there with her aunt and uncle. She'd be kept alive, if only for him to punish.
She'd been forced to marry him at fifteen. Tim Burns was his father's son. Unlike the oldest, Billy Charles, Tim had a quick mind and knack for manipulating people. He was also cruel and enjoyed punishing people. Enjoyed punishing her for any infraction, whether real or made up. He was quick to backhand her at any given moment.
After four years of living in misery, she'd ran away when her husband and gang had gone off to do whatever outlaws did. And she'd managed to stay hidden for five years.
Now her time was up.
The sound of boots, loud voices and banging was followed by the voice that made her shiver. Bill Burns had arrived.
Camille jumped when the door flew open and banged against the wall with a loud thump.
Frozen with fear, she kept her gaze on the floor, unwilling to look him in the face. Surely Tim stood beside him. Of course, both would have a look of satisfaction.
"The bitch has returned." Bill's voice was deep just like she remembered. The passing of years had not changed that. When she looked up at him, however, the years showed vividly. His hair was streaked with gray, but his eyes remained clear and sharp.
"Didn't think you'd be found, did ya?"
Whether she replied or not, it didn't matter. He'd find a way to use either the words or the silence against her. She looked past him to the doorway. Where was Tim?
"Tim's not here," Bill told her, his eyes flickered with some sort of emotion. "You probably don't know."
Camille swallowed, unable to comprehend what was happening. "Where is he?"
"Dead. Killed by a lawman. A man who will die very soon. Lucas McKade."
Bill neared and yanked her up to stand. "You know him? You must. Lives in the town you been hiding in."
Unable to think straight, Camille shook her head. Despite everything, a pang of sadness at learning her husband was dead filled her chest. "Tim is dead? I didn't know."
The slap sent her to the floor. She lay sprawled on her stomach until he grabbed her hair and pulled her back up. "Lying bitch."
His lips twisted into a snarl. "He wasn't the same after you left. Probably what got him shot. It's your fault."
"Just get it over with. Kill me." Camille's voice trembled. If anything, dying would be far better than living there again. "I don't care anymore."
Her father-in-law's laughter was without humor. "That would be too easy. No, I have a better idea. You need a man to keep you straight. You're gonna be kept here. The boys need distraction sometimes. So how about they can come visit you here? Like a reward of sorts."
Her entire body shook so hard her teeth rattled. He planned to let his men use her at will. Of all the things she imagined upon returning, she never thought this would be the outcome.
"As a matter of fact, maybe I'll reward myself first. Then once I get tired of you, I'll let the boys have their fun. It'll be good entertainment for me to watch."
"No!" She hit him on the face as hard as she could.
"Time to teach you the first lesson. Never try that again.” When he punched her in the stomach, Camille almost blacked out. Breath was gone from her as she doubled over. She would have fallen to the floor, but he held her up by the arm and hit her again.
The tearing of her dress sent her into a panic and she swung wildly at him, scratching and screaming.
Bill Burns laughed, enjoying her distress. "You'll be fun to keep around."
He shoved her away with so much forced she tripped backward and fell. "Get washed up. You look like shit."
The door slammed and she lay on the floor crying. Every part of her throbbed with pain.
No doubt, the reprieve would be short. Bill Burns would return and she'd be made to pay for every single day of freedom.
"Lucas, please come and find me. I need you," she whispered over and over, rocking on the floor with her arms wrapped around her midsection. "Please."
The sunlight remained bright as the men gathered at the location Bill Burns had instructed. There were four men not counting him and Billy Charles. Most with prices on their heads, willing to come only because of the amount of money he offered them in return for their guns.
Bill Burns looked past the men to where his son was buried and anger burned through his veins.
He'd have his revenge. If not for the sounds of bugles, he would have ensured the two US Marshals had been killed that day. Thought they were dead since all four lay on the ground motionless. Damn Billy Charles claimed it to be so.
"Gentlemen," he called out to the men who'd remained silent since arriving. Most of them cautious to keep their identities hidden and didn't feel a need to hold a conversation. "The men I want are in Silver City, Idaho. Once the job is done, come back here and you'll be paid."
"What exactly do you expect?" A burly man stroked his beard.