Chapter 20
CONNOR
By the time we reach the small clearing high on the mountain where the hunting cabin stands, it’s nearly pitch-black outside, so there isn’t any way to visually confirm if anything is wrong, but I still know within ten seconds of reaching the treeline that I was right to be concerned.
That knot of dread that has sat squarely in my gut was warranted.
Something’s wrong.
There’s a familiar quiet stillness, a kind of eerie, almost death-like feeling that makes my skin crawl because it’s exactly what I felt the night the Lorells attacked the homestead.
I know this place.
I’ve spent countless hours here over the last several months, enough to know that the sanctity of it has been shattered by something—or someone.
I creep along the edge of the forest with my axe in hand, keeping myself concealed behind tree trunks and fallen logs until I can get a better view of the small open space that houses the old cabin and the beginnings of the new one.
Killian squats beside me, scanning everything visible in the little light provided by the partially-clouded moon overhead. But he doesn’t know this land. He hasn’t sweat and bled here trying to create a sanctuary from the world. He can’t feel that change in the energy permeating the mountain air.
The cabin sits about a hundred yards away, tucked into the corner of the small dell, a pale light flickering in the window.
It’s the only sign of life, and while I wouldn’t expect Raven to be outside this time of night anyway, something about that light being on so late makes my hand tighten on the axe.
He tilts his head toward it. “It looks like she’s in there.”
I nod, never tearing my eyes away from the small building where so much happened between Raven and me—where everything changed. “I don’t think she’s alone.”
Killian nudges my arm until I look over at him. “Why?”
“A feeling in my gut.”
It’s the only explanation I have.
I’ve never felt so attuned to anyone the way I do to Raven now. Like over the last few weeks, I’ve become an expert not only in reading her body and what she needs but also in sensing when things are off in that beautiful, twisted mind of hers.
And that’s what I feel now.
Almost as if she’s crying out for me from behind those old wooden walls and begging for me to help her.
Killian doesn’t question my response or try to argue that I’m overreacting, though I know I’m going to have a million things to answer for once this is all over.
Inclining my head toward the cabin, I glance back at him. “I’m going to go see what I can find out. Watch my back.”
He nods, his gun already in his hand, and I know he won’t hesitate to use it. “Always, brother.”
Always.
Brother.
Those two words do more for me than anything else he possibly could have said right now.
There has been so much tension, so many unspoken, impossibly heavy things acting as roadblocks in our relationship over the past few months that I wasn’t sure we could ever get past.
Knowing he’s here, at my side, my brother in every way but blood, always watching my back and trusting my instincts even when he doesn’t understand them is more than I could have ever asked for from him.
Before my emotions cloud my focus, I move along the edge of the clearing, keeping close to the trees, staying in the shadows while watching the other ones the moonlight creates.
Flashbacks of that night assault my brain.
The fear that overwhelmed me.
The way I trembled.
Mom’s words I had to repeat in my head to keep myself level and calm when panic set in.
But tonight feels different.
That fear I had then has been replaced with something else—an anger, a fury, a rage over the fact that someone came up here and shattered my peace, destroyed my refuge, and might have touched my woman.
Mine.
The word fills my head so completely that it’s all I can hear.
It’s all I can feel.
And I can’t take any time to pause and consider why I think of her that way.
I reach the rear of the cabin and lean against the old wooden boards near the small storage shed attached to the back, waiting and listening.
Raven’s sharp cry of pain shatters the silent night air, slicing through me as swiftly and deeply as if whatever she is suffering were happening to me directly.
I grit my teeth to keep the growl that wants to slip out from alerting whoever is inside with her to my presence.
It doesn’t matter who it is.
He’s a fucking dead man.
“Stop! Stop, you motherfucker!” Raven’s defiance is broken by a strangled sob. “I’m not going to tell you anything!”
Fucking hell.
That mouth of hers…
The thing that always allowed her to hurt me so badly but became a source of such tremendous pleasure is what is going to get her killed.
That and her stubborn determination and moral compass.
Whoever is in there with Raven wants something from her, and the only logical conclusion is that it’s information only she has—like the names and locations of everyone who spoke to her for her damn story.
And as a reporter, she will do everything she can to protect them, even if it means suffering herself.
But the human body can only handle so much before it breaks.
Raven is strong but there is no knowing how long she’s been like this…
One fucking second is too long.
I inch forward, squatting to where I know there’s a small gap between two of the boards that I’ve been intending to patch before winter hits. It will give me the perfect view of what is happening inside.
As soon as I press my eye to it, I wish I hadn’t.
Blood on pale skin…
Raven sits tied to the chair only a few inches in front of me, her bound hands behind her, crimson rivulets trickling from where the plastic of the zip ties bites into her slender wrists with her struggling.
Rage momentarily blinds me, and it is in that blackness that I find my focus.
A plan forms—the pieces of it snapping into place quickly.
Someone moves in front of Raven, but with my limited view, I can’t make out anything more than a dark pair of jeans and a large hand.
I have to get him out of the cabin…
Away from her…
Somewhere I can have the upper hand…
And I have something he doesn’t—intimate knowledge of this land, plus my brother.
A low, male voice and a sinister laugh trickle out from the small hole where I stand, and all I want to do is jerk open the door and rush in, but he could do anything to her before I could get to her. He could hurt her even worse.
I can’t wait any longer.
If he isn’t alone, if there are others waiting in the forest around us, they’ll have a clear view of me, but I can’t waste the time it would take to move around the edge of the property to get to the massive stack of logs I have ready for the cabin walls.
I set off across the clearing, fully visible in the moonlight to anyone who might be watching, and I duck behind a log.
Blood rushes in my ears, and I hold my breath trying to hear over it to determine if anyone saw me and might be coming my way.
But the night remains still and silent.
I bring my hands to my mouth and do one of the bird calls Mom taught all of us when we were little.
It echoes out across the clearing, and a few seconds later, Killian returns it. Our way of speaking without words. Our own secret language taught by an expert hunter who never could have anticipated the game we would one day be facing on McBride Mountain.
Killian saw me move and understands I want to draw the intruder out.
A few seconds later, I hear something hit the outside of the cabin.
The door jerks open and a huge man, a mountain himself, fills the doorframe. His dark head almost reaches the top of the jamb as he scans the darkness outside for what might have caused the noise.
I thump my hand against the log, drawing his attention toward the construction site, and he steps out, weapon in his right hand, pointed toward me, even though he can’t see a fucking thing this far.
That doesn’t stop him though.
He doesn’t even hesitate.
He moves like a trained assassin across the clearing, sweeping in all directions, but keeping his focus on where he most recently heard the sound.
Killian waits in the shadows for his opportunity.
We both wait until the man is far enough away from the cabin that he can’t double back to Raven.
I slam my hand against the log again, and he fires into it, the sharp cracks of gunfire shattering the stillness of the mountain and sending birds flying into the night sky in a panic.
The bullets slam into the log I’m tucked behind, but he’s so close that I can smell the sweat coming from him and see his sharp eyes trying to locate the intruder.
But it’s him.
This is my land, that’s my woman he’s hurting, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let him touch her again.
I clutch my axe and shove to my feet as I swing.
He doesn’t have time to react, but the blade only grazes his arm as he pulls the trigger and fires a shot that embeds itself in one of the logs only a few inches from me.
This fucker barely grunts at the pain and somehow keeps hold of his gun, spinning it toward me as I lunge in the dark and knock him to the ground. I grasp his wrist and slam it down, dislodging his hold on his weapon and sending it a foot to our right in the grass.
Killian races across the clearing toward us, his gun pointed directly at us, but with me on top, there isn’t any way he can get a clean shot.
I punch the man beneath me square in the jaw.
It barely affects him.
Far bigger than me, he easily rolls me onto my back, and the sinister grin spreading across his face makes my already steaming anger flare even hotter.
“Connor McBride…you’ve interrupted my plans. I thought I’d have more one-on-one time to spend with Raven.” He grabs for his gun and presses the barrel against my temple. “But we can take care of that quickly.”
The shot rings out through the night…
It slams into his shoulder, throwing him back off me.
I don’t wait for Killian to reach us, just scramble for my axe. The moment it’s in my hand, I drive it into the man’s already bloody chest.