Only a few feet into the trees, the darkness surrounds me, the moon completely blocked by the canopy above us. I try to follow him, but my boot catches on something, and I start to tumble forward. My hand manages to find a tree trunk just in time to prevent me from falling face-first into the underbrush.
“Fuck!”
I can’t see more than a foot or two in front of me, let alone which way he went. And if Connor doesn’t want to be found, he knows full well how to disappear out here.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
He’s gone.
2
ONE WEEK LATER
CONNOR
The bell jingles above the diner door, and Elaine’s head whips in my direction, her pale eyes narrowing on me the moment I step onto the familiar tile floor.
My stomach rumbles in response to the glorious scents permeating the air, and I can almost taste all the delicious things Matt is cooking back in the kitchen. After a week on the mountain, surviving on beef jerky, mixed nuts, granola bars, and processed canned crap, I desperately need something hot and fresh.
I could have stopped at the homestead this morning and eaten with the family around Killian and Willow’s table—our usually ritual continued from the days Mom was still around and insisted we have a good breakfast to start the day—but I just couldn’t bring myself to walk through their door and see that look on their faces…
Again.
The worry.
The disappointment.
The trepidation and unease.
It’s the same every time I come back.
They never used to look at me like that. Before the attack on the homestead, I was just one of the McBride brothers. Now, I’m a killer. Someone they can’t trust. Someone they have to watch, constantly worried about what I might do.
I tried to avoid those looks any way I can, like by ditching the morning meal with the family today, but given the way Elaine is staring me down, she is well aware of my disappearing act over the past week. And she’s just as worried as they undoubtedly all are.
But it’s too late to back out of the diner now.
I’m too hungry, and that old woman is too focused on me to slip away and not expect some serious fall out—like her chasing me down Main Street with a damn cast iron skillet in her hand screaming, “Get back here, Connor McBride, or else.”
I wouldn’t put it past her to do just that.
Elaine may appear to be a sweet, grandmotherly figure, but she has a bite you don’t want to be on the receiving end of. Today, after that hike back down the mountain, I definitely don’t have the energy for it.
The clank of silverware against plates fills my ears as I make my way to the counter and slip onto one of the stools, keeping my head low even though it already feels like all the eyes in the diner are on me.
It would have been impossible to completely hide what went down on the homestead with Brent Lorell and his men. His uncle’s lawsuits and accusations against the McBrides and Lucky ensured that before we came to our agreement with them, but we’ve managed to keep a lot of the specifics from the people of McBride Mountain. That has only seemed to stoke the flames of interest when it comes to any of the McBrides. So has Raven’s silence on the matter in her little column.
Murder on the mountain should have been front page news, instead there has been only whispers and speculation.
That makes coming back from my solitude on the mountain even worse.
Elaine slides a steaming cup of coffee in front of me and leans her elbows on the counter, resting her face in her hands. She doesn’t say anything, only the sounds of clinking silverware against plates and morning chatter break the uncomfortable pointed silence directed at me from the woman who has become almost like a grandmother to us over the years.
Rubbing the back of my neck with one hand, I grasp the mug and bring it to my lips, drinking down the piping-hot liquid and letting the caffeine flow through my veins. After my hike back down the mountain before the sun even came up, I need it. Maybe a few cups, knowing what I’ll face when I walk onto the lumber yard later and have to see Killian and Liam.
By the time I set the mug down on the countertop, Elaine’s lips start to curl into a smile. “Does this work with your brothers?”
“Does what work?”
