Branding A Legacy (A Silver Star Ranch Novel) Read Free

walks it past him. “You Slatters have always thought you were bigger than everyone else.”
    His comment can’t be further from the truth, but with my shoulder throbbing, the hollers from Weston, and the blade held to Jose’s neck, I can’t find the words to argue back.
    “Your granddad screwed over my family back in the day, and not to mention your old man knocking up my wife.” Saint lands a punishing blow across my cheek. “It’s time you get what’s coming.”
    Saint steps to the side giving me full view of Jose. He gives his man a nod that has Jose under a knife. Shrieks and cries fill the air when the shiny silver blade slices across his skin. My head swims fighting to make sense of everything when my eyes roll back.
    “Wake his ass up now.”
    My arm is twisted further behind my back causing me to drop to my knees and bringing me right back to reality. Streams and streams of deep red liquid flows down Jose’s chest. He gurgles, fighting for air, as his escaping breath has no hope of living, but it never stops him from fighting for his next breath of air. After several minutes of him fighting to live he finally collapses in a slump in the man’s arms.
    “Next,” Saint demands.
    Weston is brought around the front of the truck. His face is already bloody and swollen.
    “No.” My cracked lip stings when I finally fight to say a word. “Not him. Me. Come for me, Saint, you fucking coward.”
    His laugh is piercing and fills the night air. It’s a sound I know I’ll never forget. He sends another nod to the two men who have Weston.
    “No.” I protest over and over as I watch my best friend drop to the ground from the brutal force.
    His screams of agony are lost in my pleas for them to stop. They never take out a knife to finish him off as fists and boots fly. Flashes of silver fleck before my eyes but I refuse to understand the situation, and when Weston’s body goes limp underneath their torture, I give in letting the inevitable reign.

2
    Clover
    “ A ll on-call nurses down to the ER stat.”
    I finish documenting the chart in front of me before the intercom message fully sinks in.
    “Clover, that’s you. Get.”
    I look up to the doctor I’m following for the next month. Mistake after mistake today, and now this.
    “Is it a meeting?” I nearly roll my eyes at the stupid question that leaves my lips.
    “Go,” he roars.
    My clogs hit the ground as I sprint for the ER. They all said that the internship would be the most exciting part of your career, but for me in this small-scale hospital, it’s been nothing but a nightmare. It doesn’t help being hundreds of miles away from home.
    When I push open the swinging doors to the ER, I’m surrounded by chaos. My body freezes as several voices shout over others while blood covers several scrubs and the floor. I’m paralyzed when the graphic scene assaults me. You see this on the television shows and in textbooks, but it’s something you’d never think of experiencing first hand.
    “Clover.” The head ER nurse grabs me by the wrist and stuffs a pair of latex gloves in my hands. “Apply pressure to his head wound.”
    My hands tremble as I fight to get my fingers in the gloves. The patient lets out a groan of pain, taking me back. His face has been beaten beyond recognition with several open wounds covering his skull. All of his clothing is ripped and shredded. His body goes in and out of seizures.
    “We need an airway,” the doctor screams.
    “What about the other victim?”
    “Dead on arrival,” a paramedic reports.
    I focus on the job, steadying my nerves and narrowing in on the science of the job. My hands cover the bleeding wounds on the patient’s skull. Several streams of blood pour from his head and I do my best to cover all of them.
    “Hold steady, Clover.”
    I watch the doctor and nurse fight to open an airway. When the tube nearly reaches its destination the patient flat lines.
    “Stand back.” The doctor holds the paddles