They’re not going away until we talk.
Nor should they.
This situation has become untenable in only one night, and my plan to give her space and time evaporated the moment I saw that gun pointed at Connor.
I finally release a resigned sigh, give the tree a final swing, and watch as it topples away from us, exactly as I expertly directed it. It crashes into the forest floor, releasing a plume of debris, and I drape my axe over my shoulder and walk toward my brothers.
“I don’t know why she has a gun. And I don’t know why she pulled it.”
Killian snorts. “Well, I wasn’t there, but I think we can surmise she didn’t know it was Connor coming in.” He glances at him. “Unless you’re such an asshole that your reputation preceded you.”
“Ha. Ha. Very funny.” Connor pushes off the tree. “What do you know?”
I sigh, set the axe down on the ground and wipe the sweat from my brow again.
Not enough.
It’s the real answer—that I don’t nearly enough about the woman I’m falling so fucking hard for.
“That she’s running from something. Maybe someone. And it has her scared.”
A sympathetic look crosses both of their gazes, but I see the worry there, too. The deep concern over what transpired even as Killian jokes about it in an attempt to lighten the dark mood hanging around me and the mountain.
“Lucky doesn’t want to tell me.” That frustration surges to the forefront again, tightening my fists at my sides and making my voice come out rough. Strained by my desire to help her. “She told me it was safer if I didn’t know.”
One of Killian’s blond brows rises. “She used the word ‘safer’?”
I nod, remembering the look in her eyes when she said it—both times.
Pure terror.
“Shit.” He shoves a hand through his hair. “Well, that isn’t good.”
No, it isn’t.
I clench my jaw, trying not to lash out with everything I’ve been thinking, all the horrible scenarios I’ve been imagining that might be threatening to her. “My thoughts exactly, but I don’t know what to do about it. I can’t force her to tell me.”
Killian scowls. “Why the fuck not?”
I glower at him.
I would think by now that these two would understand that forcing someone to talk about something that they’re not ready to only creates more problems instead of making the situation better.
If I push her on this, it might push her away.
I can’t risk that.
“Look, I realize you like this girl.” Killian locks his gaze with mine, doing his damnedest to use his “big brother” voice that used to put me in my place when we were younger. “But if there’s something dangerous out there coming after her, we need to know about it. We need to understand why it might be coming to McBride Mountain and how to deal with it. I have a wife and a son at home who just went through something incredibly traumatic. I don’t need any fucking surprises, Liam.”
“You think I don’t fucking know that?” I throw my hands up. “You think I don’t understand every single fucking thing my father did to Willow? You think I don’t picture it and see it in my head every minute of every day. You think I don’t dream about it? Fuck, Killian, you don’t have to remind me of the fucking obvious.”
Shit.
The way they’re looking at me, I know I’ve said too much.
Again.
But rather than going the icy, glacial blue it does when he’s angry, Killian’s gaze warms and softens, which is almost worse. “Is that why you won’t talk to us? Is that why you’ve been avoiding me? And her?”
