Chapter 3

Emmett recognized the name. Jack’s fame as a bounty hunter preceded him—the men on Emmett’s ship used to amuse themselves with tales of Jack’s legendary prowess, each story more outlandish than the last. From the corner of his eye, Emmett watched the man as he worked, holding his breath, hoping for some sign of life…

When Jack finally drew a long, shuddery sigh, Emmett had abandoned his broom and raced to the man’s side. Rumor had it Jack was bloodthirsty and evil, with a heart of stone, and when he turned that icy blue eye onto Emmett for the first time, Emmett wondered if the talk wasn’t true.

“I cleaned him up as best I could,” Emmett told Monty. He hugged himself at the painful memory of his partner, his friend, once beaten within an inch of his life. “Staunched the worst of the blood, stitched up his cheek and his…his eye. God, it was awful.”

He shivered, and Monty’s arm came up around Emmett’s shoulders, encouraging him to continue. “What happened then?”