“I…” I struggle through the haze of pain to think about what he said during his interrogation of me. “I’m sure, but…”
“But what?”
“There are other people in McBride Mountain. His men.”
Connor tenses beneath me. “How do you know that?”
“He told me that’s how he found the cabin. He said he was chatting with one of the old timers about remote places on the mountain.” I sort through his words, all the things he never would have told me if he thought, for one moment, that I would survive what he was going to do to me. “He said he got a list and has been searching for me ever since they got word about the story.”
“Fuck…”
“He said there are other men…that he was going to take care of the problem in McBride Mountain when he was done with me.”
Even through the anguish he was putting me in with the constant slices of my skin, the beatings, the threats of worse, I knew what he meant by that—they were going to take out everyone on the homestead and anyone else in town involved with the aftermath.
Connor’s jaw tenses as he grabs the shirt off the bed beside him. “I’m sorry. This is going to hurt.”
“I’m okay.”
He gently examines every single cut and mark on my body. “You don’t look okay, Firefly.” The one on my side makes him pause. “This is deep. I need to stop the bleeding before I take you down the mountain.”
“I can’t—” A sob breaks from me, and I shake my head. “I can’t hike down the mountain, Connor.”
That obsidian hard gaze of his softens. “I know, Firefly. I’ll carry you.”
“You can’t.”
Connor has been hiking all day and night. It’s the only way he could have gotten down to Killian and back up here by now. He must be exhausted, near dropping.
But the determination in his eyes silences my protests.
“I can and I will, Firefly.”
Tears continue to flow down my cheeks, and he leans in and kisses them away.
“We have to get you dressed.” He swallows thickly. “I’m sorry…”
He sets me gently on the mattress, then keeps one hand on me to ensure I stay upright as he rummages in one of the crates and pulls out a small first-aid kit.
My lids droop again, and the room spins.
His grip on me is the only thing keeping me from falling, and he gently helps me lie back.
“Stay with me, Firefly.”
Strong yet gentle hands move over my body, wrapping my wounds in something soft. Rough callouses ghost over my skin, wiping away blood, and when he reaches the wound at my side, I hear him suck in a sharp breath.
“This is really going to hurt, Raven, but I have to pack it.”
I nod my understanding, bracing myself for whatever he’s about to do.
Nothing could prepare me for the agony that comes next.
It steals my breath, and I cry out, the pressure he applies almost as painful as when the blade went in. But it doesn’t last long, and his lips feather across my cheek, another whispered apology on them.
I force my eyes open partially, watching him as he eases my arms into his shirt and quickly buttons it, then glances down at my legs.
“Can you handle having me pull pants on you? I don’t want you to get more cut up by anything on the way down.”
