“What makes you think I want out of this?” He stops and squats in front of me, holding the blade up against my cheek, and I freeze. “Working for the Lorells has given me everything I’ve ever wanted, and then some. They pay very well, and loyalty is rewarded.”
“Until it’s not.”
Brent Lorell died on this mountain, abandoned by his uncle, told to clean up his own mess where Lucky was concerned. That little bit of information came from Barry…
There was a reason it was only Brent and three other men on the homestead that night—because his uncle made him use the team that had been involved in the bank robbery and didn’t allow him to utilize their more seasoned men.
It was a dressing down of a young, rebellious Brent Lorell who stepped out of line and made a huge mistake by letting Lucky live.
My captor trails the blade across my skin, not cutting it, but the threat of the blade makes me begin to tremble. “Brent was always a loose cannon.”
“You expect me to believe that that bank robbery wasn’t sanctioned?”
He grins. “I didn’t say that, just that when Brent led his team up here to McBride Mountain, he wasn’t prepared. Even if his uncle wanted him to clean up his own mess, he should’ve brought me. Then we wouldn’t even be having this conversation right now.”
“Why not? I wasn’t even there.”
Leaning in closer, he drags the blade down my throat to press it against the artery there. “You don’t think you were next on their list? That they didn’t have someone waiting to slip into your place above the bakery to take you out to? A reporter, who was close friends with Lucky? They never would have left you alive.”
Shit.
The trembling in my body only intensifies, goosebumps breaking out across my skin despite the heat in the enclosed cabin and how badly I’m sweating.
“Now”—he brings the knife up across my lips—“you and I are going to have a conversation about your sources, about how to find each and every one of them, and if you lie to me, I’ll start scarring up this pretty face of yours.”
I hold his stare and see that he’s not joking. It isn’t an empty threat at all, but I keep my shoulders squared. Because I’m far smarter than he gives me credit for.
“What do I care if I’m scarred? You’re just going to kill me, anyway.”
He releases another barked laugh, the sound of evil floating through the air in the place that had been a safe refuge for me and Connor that’s now been ruined. “You’re far too smart for your own good, aren’t you, Raven?”
“So I’ve been told.”
“Well, let’s hope you’re smart enough not to make your final moments very painful ones. Now, talk.”
CONNOR
Compared to how slow I had to hike up here the last time, with Raven trailing behind me, struggling with her bags and the weight of her attitude, this speed feels breakneck.
I practically run up the steep slopes and inclines, dodging around the massive trees and leaping over any fallen logs that stand in the way of getting to her.
Frantic footfalls sound behind me the entire way, and Killian begs for me to slow down more than once so we can talk. So we can come up with a plan, in case there is any danger up at the cabin when we reach it.
But I can’t bring myself to slow down for even one moment.
If I do, it could be the thing that costs Raven her life.
It’s my fault.
The only reason she’s alone up there is because I forced her to come with me…and then left her. If anything happens to Raven?—
No.
I’ve spent months reliving the worst night of my life every waking moment and every time I tried to sleep, and I refuse to create a new nightmare before we even get there.
My focus has to be getting to her, not imagining the worst.
I don’t stop to eat. Not even to grab a drink from my canteen. I’m dehydrated, exhausted, my muscles trembling and aching, and I’m bordering on collapse at any moment.
