It kept Willow hidden for a year, and with her best friend missing, the fear that a copycat could have come for Raven left everyone on edge and sleepless.
The only reason they were even bothering to look for me today was because they needed my knowledge of the mountain to continue their search for her. Otherwise, they might have allowed me to stay voluntarily “lost” in the wilderness for far longer.
So the anger is real and warranted.
Especially since they both lived through what happened on the homestead and felt the aftermath, unlike Barrett, who’s coming in long after the bloodshed. But it’s clear Tony filled him in because he doesn’t ask stupid, basic questions and seems to grasp precisely why all of this is so dangerous…
And so important.
The longer they all stare at me without saying anything, the more uncomfortable I become waiting for their response.
Say something.
Anything.
I’d rather they were screaming at me, ranting and exploding at the fact that they’ve spent weeks thinking someone took Raven and that she might be in trouble than just sitting there like that.
She definitely is in trouble, just not the kind they thought. And I did my best to explain my reasoning and how we want to approach getting the information on the drive to the right people.
Finally, I offer a shrug because I can’t handle the uncomfortable silence anymore. “So, that’s the plan…”
Killian runs his hands back through his long, blond hair, already disheveled from their hike and search. “Jesus, Connor.”
He shakes his head, giving me a look he typically reserved for us when we were children and had stepped way out of line.
“I know. It isn’t ideal?—”
“Not fucking ideal?” His voice carries out over the water and through the trees, startling a few birds that take flight. “You’re talking about riling up the people who almost killed Liam, who would’ve killed Lucky, my wife, and my child, not to mention you and me, if they had had the chance that night.”
I squeeze my eyes closed and draw in a deep breath, willing those memories to stay buried. If they overwhelm me now, I won’t be able to think clearly. Won’t be able to discuss this in a rational way with him, just like I’ve been unable to for months.
“You don’t need to remind me what they did, Killian.” I open my eyes and meet his hard, blue gaze. “I was there, remember? I was the one pulling that trigger over and over again to take out those bastards.”
Pushing to my feet, I step closer to him, pressing my hand into my chest.
“I was the one who had to use this”—I lift the axe, and though it might not be the exact one I killed with, he gets the point—“to prevent Brent Lorell from literally slicing Liam’s throat. And then, I’m the one who had to drive him and a hysterical Lucky all the way to Asheville while he was bleeding out in the back of his fucking truck.”
He climbs to his feet, too, as if to challenge me.
And I honestly don’t know who would win in a physical fight.
When we were kids, he was always bigger, always stronger, but the years have changed things.
I grew up, and between working on the lumber yard and on the homestead, my strength now at least matches, perhaps surpasses, even his. The last thing I want is to come to blows with my big brother, but to sit there and talk to me as if I don’t comprehend the consequences of all this, as if I don’t understand what the Lorells will do, is pushing me to my breaking point.
“Do not stand there and lecture me about what’s at stake.”
Killian has always been the protector, the one watching out for me, for Liam, for everyone on McBride Mountain, but when it came down to it, I was the one who lost a huge part of myself when I had to protect everyone.
I’m the one who suffered the most from the blood spilled, the lives taken…
After months of the tension building between us, months of avoiding talking about this, avoiding this very confrontation, it seems that Raven’s actions have forced it in a way we can’t ignore anymore.
Killian continues to hold my unwavering gaze, and I can see his anger and frustration bubbling away beneath the eyes I know so well. But there is something that overtakes them, something I’ve always seen there—undying love and affection. “No one can understand what you saw or what you had to do, Connor. I know that. But not talking to us about it, not working through your feelings about the situation has only made all this worse. Can’t you see that?”
“We’re not talking about me right now.” I slam my hand into my chest. “What happens to me is irrelevant. We’re talking about Raven, the story, and this fucking plan. Got it?”
He opens his mouth like he is going to argue, and there’s no doubt he wants to take this opportunity to push me since it’s the only time I’ve ever said a fucking word about that night to him, but Tony steps between us, urging me to back away from my brother.
