Chapter 1 #2
From the men I killed.
From Liam when he was bleeding out on the barn floor.
I squeeze my eyes closed, willing those images away, and despite being watched so intently by the one woman I don’t want anywhere near me, I bring the bottle to my lips and take a long, hard pull from it, guzzling down the bourbon like it’s water.
It burns going down, but it’s a welcome discomfort compared to what I suffer having to face down the woman standing in front of my cabin.
When I finally reopen my eyes, the first thing I see is Raven’s furrowed brow and those intense eyes judging me.
Because that’s what she does—judge.
She judges everyone on McBride Mountain—their choices, their actions, their lives—and she splashes her gossip about them all over her “community” page as if it’s an expose in The New York fucking Times.
“Get the hell out of here, Raven.”
I can’t be held accountable for what happens if she stays.
Not when I’m in this state.
Not where she’s involved.
RAVEN
Connor is on edge tonight.
A razor-thin edge.
So close to tumbling over it that I can practically see it happening in front of me in real time.
The McBride brothers have always prided themselves on their strength, their resilience, their ability to withstand anything the mountain throws at them.
They have protected this beautiful place and our quiet little town from anything and everything that has come.
Despite their grumpy attitudes and solitary natures, they’ve done whatever is necessary, without question.
But this Connor McBride isn’t that strong, unshakable man I’ve spent years verbally sparring with. He isn’t the immovable force who never backs down from an argument, who almost seems to get some sick satisfaction from our “matches” and walks away with a fire in his chest.
That isn’t the man in front of me.
His entire body trembles.
He clings to his axe and the bourbon bottle in his hands as if he would crumble if he weren’t holding them.
Maybe he would.
Drowning himself in alcohol has certainly been at the top of his to-do list lately, and from what his brothers have told me, he’s been spending most of the time he is here—and not off gallivanting on the mountain—felling trees all over the property like he needs to destroy something to make himself feel better.
It’s the worst I’ve ever seen him—and that’s really saying something considering the way he’s been acting the last couple months.
Even more reclusive than normal—disappearing for days at a time.
Constantly short with everyone when he is forced to interact.
Always looking like he isn’t one hundred percent present anytime anyone talks to him.
We all had hoped he would turn a corner, that he would somehow find his way out of the black hole he seems to have been living in since the attack on the homestead, but that seems impossible for him. Or at least, it isn’t happening tonight…
He appears content to wallow in his own self-pity and drown himself in bourbon.
I should let him.
It would certainly make my life easier to not have to see Connor McBride anymore.
No more sneers. No more snide remarks. No more insults slung at full force in my direction.
No more having to even acknowledge the man who always manages to get under my skin in the worst way possible.
But the pain it would cause Willow to see anything happen to him wouldn’t be worth any relief I might gain from letting him destroy himself.
One of his dark brows rises as he stares me down. “Did you not hear me?” He points his axe back down the hill toward Killian and Willow’s cabin. “Get the hell out of here. Leave me alone.”
The growl that punctuates his final word would be enough to make most men cower and most women run.
Especially while he’s clutching that axe so tightly in his hand that he can wield with such precision—even when he’s three sheets to the wind.
No matter how much I may hate Connor, the middle McBride brother’s prowess with that blade is impossible to ignore.
It saved Liam and Lucky’s lives…
I release a heavy sigh, my frustration with him beginning to make my skin itch. “There isn’t a chance in hell I am going back down that hill to tell Willow I let you stalk off into the woods drunk with your axe.”
Who knows where he would go or what he would do…
His permanent scowl returns, and his hand flexes on the weapon. Huge, powerful hands that can destroy so easily. Those dark eyes of his dart toward the pitch-black woods to the right of his cabin—away from his brothers and the homestead they share.
He is going to bolt.
Again.
It’s no secret that he’s been disappearing for days at a time, without explanation. Each time he vanishes on the mountain, everyone gets more worried that he might just not come back. And given his state tonight, I can see why.
Missing dinner with his brothers and their women is one thing—but making them constantly agonize about the worst potentially coming true is another.
Something I can’t stand for.
Not when it’s hurting my best friend and she’s already suffered more than any one person should in a lifetime.
It’s finally Willow’s chance at her happily ever after, and she deserves to have it without Connor’s self-loathing getting in the way.
What happened on this homestead when the Lorells came for Lucky shook all of us, but Connor has completely crumpled under the weight of it rather than letting the people who love him help carry the load.
I came up here tonight so that Willow and Killian could get Niall to bed without having to deal with this, to make an apparently useless attempt to convince him to come eat, so they would have an opportunity to talk to him and maybe get him to open up.
I certainly didn’t climb this damn hill to argue—again.
And he appears done with it, too.
He takes a step toward the stairs that lead down from the porch, and I take a step forward, effectively blocking his escape route.
I shake my head. “Nope.”
“Raven…” My name comes out more of a growl than spoken from between his clenched teeth. “Get the fuck out of my way.”