Page 55 of A Curse On Black Lake (Black Lake Gothic Cowboys #1)

Chapter forty-three

Killian

I look in the same direction, and see a hooded figure, with the stature of a man, in all black, the porch light isn’t on, but the moon outlines his body as he stands all the way at the back of the garden.

I don’t think, I act, whipping the back door open, and sprinting after him.

He already took off, and I grit my teeth, running as fast as I can. He’s headed towards the back of the property, and I push harder, trying to catch up to him.

There’s a tree line bleeding into woods, and he’s angling for it across the large field.

My heart pounds through my chest, and my lungs cry for air as I gain on him. I’m so close I reach out for his hoodie, and he slips my grasp.

Making a last-second decision, I throw myself onto him, tackling him to the ground.

He grunts, and I’m not able to get a good look at him before he throws a fist. I take the hit and sucker punch him.

He tackles me, and we roll around on the ground fighting for dominance, and I feel nails scratch against me, deep enough to draw blood.

I grunt trying to see his face, but can’t see any defining features. The only thing I smell is peppermint. Flipping us, I’m able to gain control, and grab his hood. I pull back, trying to choke him with it, and find that he’s wearing a ski mask.

Shifting, I try to pin him down with my forearm, but he comes around trying to knee me in the balls. At the last second I’m able to dodge him, but take the hit to my thigh. I’ve lost track of what we’re doing as I snatch an arm and yank it back.

He yells in pain.

“Killian!” Eliana yells.

Instinct makes me look over my shoulder to her, and it gives the stalker enough time to elbow me in the ribs, and sock my jaw before taking off. I grunt, catching myself, and by the time I do he’s already gone.

“Dammit!” I yell.

“Killian?” Eliana says.

I scan the woods again, looking for the bastard, but it’s too dark, and I can’t let him get to Eliana, which is exactly who he wants.

Jogging out of the trees, I find Eliana barefoot with a flashlight and her shotgun.

“Here,” I call, so she doesn’t shoot me.

She spins around, dropping the flashlight and gun, and runs to me. I catch her in my arms, and she wraps herself around me, locking her ankles at my back. “Are you okay?” she gasps.

I hug her, and she’s shaking like a leaf, squeezing my neck so tightly it’s hard to breathe.

“I’ll be fine. Are you?” I ask her, securing my arms around her.

She kisses my cheek. “I am now. I can’t believe you went after him. I know you used to be a captain, but you’re not anymore, so you can’t go after people.”

I grunt carrying her towards the flashlight and the shotgun, ignoring the burn in my side. The last thing we need is this asshole coming back and trying to kill both of us. He seems like the type.

“Why not?” I ask her.

“Because I said so,” she snaps, still shaking in my arms.

“Yes ma’am. But I knew what I was doing,” I tell her.

When we finally get to the house, I set the shotgun down and Eliana drops from my body.

She grabs my ribs, and I hiss. Eliana yanks her hands back, grimacing.

“Killian, you’re bleeding!” Eliana shrieks, her voice near panicked as she inspects the blood all over my half-unbuttoned shirt.

“I’m okay, darlin’, really.”

“Let me get some salve, and somethin’ to clean out the cuts. Did he do that to you?” she asks.

I nod.

She worries her bottom lip and disappears to the front of the house, into the apothecary. Then hurries back with tins and pieces of cotton cloth perfectly square.

“Sit down,” she says.

“Eliana, really, I’m fine. I’ll put some ointment on it or somethin’.”

She levels me with a glare, and I take that as a — listen or else.

I hold up my hands. “Alright, alright,” I mutter and drop down in the chair next to the dinner table.

She grabs my shirt and unbuttons the few remaining still together on my shirt. Her icy fingers brush against my skin, and I puff out a rough breath.

The corner of her mouth quirks up as she pushes back my shirt, and I watch her assess the four gashes across my ribs.

“My goodness, did he have talon nails?” she mutters.

I don’t answer as I watch her white hair fall into her face and she absently pushes it back while her brows furrow in concentration, as she cleans the gashes.

“Could you see him?” she asks.

“No, but I smelled peppermint. Thought it was kind of weird.”

Eliana stops. “You know who else smells like peppermint?” she asks.

I nod because I don’t want to say it.

She seems to get that, and opens one of her tins. Lavender wafts up into my nose, and she dabs the salve over the gashes.

“This should help you heal quickly,” she mutters.

“I’m sure it will.”

“You have that much confidence in me?” she asks.

“Of course I do,” I tell her.

Eliana grabs a piece of cotton, resting it over the gashes. “This will need to be changed tomorrow,” she says, her hair falling into her face again.

“Alright,” I say, pushing her hair back behind her ear. “But I think I’m going to need you to show me how.”

She huffs. “I’m sure you do.” She tapes the sides of the cloth down and stands up straight.

I grab her hand and kiss her knuckles. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” she sighs and takes a breath. “I can’t stay here, can I?” she asks, nervously looking around the house like someone is about to jump out at her. She’s trying to hide it, but her shaking hands betray her. It could be adrenaline, but her rapidly blinking eyes tell me differently.

“Sorry, darlin’, no.”

She blinks a few times, and that glossy eye look falls over her like a veil. “The Spirits aren’t happy,” she says.

“Why now?”

“They told me I need to stay with you,” she says.

“Well, tell them I won’t let you out of my sight.”

“But what if he comes back?” she asks.

I don’t know what to tell her. The only way to protect her land is to call Wyatt, and we already decided that won’t work.

“Then we deal with it. Plants can grow back. But you cannot. I won’t risk you, Eliana,” I tell her, resolute.

“But—” Her words cut off, and she squeezes her eyes shut.

“Okay, okay, I’ll go. But you can’t blame me for wanting to protect it,” she says. “You really need to stop doing that. My head hurts enough as it is. I hear you.”

Her eyes open, and she looks up at me. “Fine, I’ll go, but draw the curtains. I’ll tuck some things away. All we can do is pray he doesn’t come back.”

I go around the house checking windows and closing curtains. When we’re done, Eliana hands me a bag full of things.

“Can you drive the truck? I want to ride Daisy,” she says.

“It’s pitch black outside. It’s not safe.”

She lifts a shoulder. “After everything we’ve been through in the past six hours, riding Daisy with you behind me won’t make it worse. Plus, driving your truck terrifies me. I’m afraid I’m going to crash it.”

I chuckle. “Fine, I’ll go get her.”

“I’ll come with you,” she says quickly.

Tossing her bag in the truck, we collect Daisy and bring her to the front porch. Eliana is still wearing a dress, but she doesn’t seem to care as she lifts her foot the stirrup to get on. I take my hat off quickly, covering her backside, and she settles onto the saddle.

“Good?” I ask her.

She nods and adjusts her dress. I get in my truck, and she’s already started off down the street. I glance at the house one more time and hope to God that nothing else happens. I don’t know if she can take the hit.

Catching up to Eliana, I drive slowly behind her as she picks Daisy up to a light jog. It takes us an extra thirty minutes, but Eliana seems to cherish the ride. And I didn’t mind watching her enjoy it in the moonlight.

Eventually, we get to the ranch, and Eliana doesn’t wait for me as she takes off on Daisy towards the barns.

I get the truck parked, and a few minutes later she’s walking up the hill.

“Thank you,” she says.

I grab her hand as we go inside. “Of course,” I tell her.

She pulls out of my grasp and heads straight for the stairs. I leave her be while I make a quick sandwich for both of us.

When I’m done shoving mine in my face, I take Eliana’s up to her.

Her door is closed, and she could be asleep, but screw it, I knock anyway.

“Come in,” she says.

She’s standing in front of the mirror above the small dresser and brushing her hair, wearing that damn t-shirt that hits her mid-thigh.

Eliana glances at the sandwich and sets her brush down. “Oh, thank you,” she says and grabs a half off the plate while I’m still holding it. “I didn’t realize I was so hungry,” she says, with her mouth full.

I grin at her as she inhales the half.

She takes the other and stops chewing. “What?” she says with a mouth full.

“Nothing, I wanted to check on you, and figured you were hungry.”

She takes a bite. “I absolutely was.”

“Good.”

“But are you okay?” I ask her.

She lifts a shoulder, chewing. “I’m fine,” she says, avoiding eye contact.

It’s a bald face lie, but who am I to call her out on it? She’s got a lot going on in her mind, literally, so maybe she needs to tell herself that so she can sleep. I don’t know. I’m still learning.

She finishes her sandwich, and I shift on my feet, wanting to kiss her, touch her, something. I came too close to losing her today. I don’t want to let another opportunity slip past me, us.

“I’m going to hit the hay,” she says, tossing her thumb behind her.

I drag my hand through my hair. “Yeah, goodnight.”

“Night,” she says.

I force myself out of her room and close the door behind me.

By the time I shower and put myself in bed, I can’t sleep.

I can’t stop thinking about the man watching Eliana.

Or the fact that my family, the people who raised me, aren’t blood.

My ancestor is the one who started this wretched curse and is responsible, in my mind, for killing my parents.

I can’t stop thinking about the impact of a shredded garden on Eliana.

And I can’t stop thinking about how this guy is continuing to escalate.