Page 74 of A Curse On Black Lake (Black Lake Gothic Cowboys #1)

Chapter fifty-six

Eliana

The moment they are out of sight, I pick Killian’s hat up off the ground and run into the house, grabbing his truck keys. I’ve never had to get anyone out of jail before, but I think they need some kind of bail money, and I don’t have much, but I have to try.

Squeezing, the steering wheel, I breathe through the anxiety plaguing and poisoning my thoughts.

The questions are making my mind spin, and I’m forcing myself not to break down with the constant voice of the Spirits.

I have to get him out. Not only because I’m terrified that my stalker is going to grab me, but because Killian didn’t do this. He’s not a murderer.

It doesn’t matter if I don’t have a good standing in this town. The truth is the truth, and it needs to be heard.

I pull up to the station and carefully park the truck before I haul ass into the building.

“Where is he?” I ask Tom, sitting behind the front desk.

“Ma’am, you need to calm down. I can’t help you if you don’t calm down,” he says.

I glare at Tom Bowman. He knows exactly who I am. But I don’t care. This isn’t about me.

“Please, he didn’t do this. I need to talk to the Sheriff.”

“I’m sorry, he’s busy right now,” Tom says.

“Bullshit, Tom, he’s probably jumping for joy since he arrested his cousin,” I spit.

Tom purses his lips.

I look over his shoulder, and around the open area filled with desks. There are a couple of offices towards the back of the building, and I can only assume one of them is Wyatt’s.

Bypassing the deputy to the offices, he grabs my arm, stopping me.

“Take your hand off me right now,” I grit.

He doesn’t release me and says, “I can arrest you for obstruction.”

“Then do it!” I scream.

He hesitates.

That’s what I thought. He can’t arrest me for anything. I’m not stupid. But for some reason, he doesn’t want me to see Wyatt. A few of the other deputies are staring at me with wide eyes, but I couldn’t care less if I look like a fool in their eyes. This is wrong.

“Fine,” I state and step back out of his grip.

“Wyatt!” I scream.

“Wyatt, get your ass out here right now or so help me I will give them a reason to arrest me! Come out here and look me in the eye and tell me he did this!” I scream.

Tom takes a step away from me.

I toss him a look, and then a door to one of the back offices opens. Wyatt steps out and crosses his arms.

“I want to talk to you,” I tell him across the small station.

Wyatt hesitates.

“Now!” I yell.

He sighs and rubs his chin. “Let her through, Tom.”

He steps to the side, and Wyatt gestures for me to go into his office first, and he closes the door behind me.

“Eliana, we have to—”

“No, you don’t. I don’t want to hear excuses or the evidence you supposedly have,” I state.

A strange look passes through his eyes, and it makes my heart shrivel up.

“I have plenty of reasons to arrest and question him. He is being accused of two murders, maybe more. According to the law, he’s a flight risk,” Wyatt says.

“You know he didn’t do this. My alibi is enough to prove that,” I tell him.

“Is it?” he asks.

I scowl. “What do you have?” I ask.

“I’m sorry I can’t give you the details of an open investigation,” he says plainly.

“Bullshit. You want him here for some reason,” I say, watching every minute reaction.

“You can come to the hearing tomorrow. Bail will be set for Killian,” Wyatt says.

Hot and furious rage bubbles in my stomach. I want to rip him apart. I want to scream until I’m hoarse.

Wyatt observes me with a dark look in his eyes, and I’ve seen it before, and even now I’m not sure what to make of it. Killian didn’t either.

“Fine,” I mutter. “But let me see him, please. You know how phones are, and I don’t have one.”

“How do you know you’re his phone call?” Wyatt asks.

I force a deep breath into my lungs to calm down because I would backhand him if it wouldn’t get me in trouble, and Killian can’t afford to have that right now.

“Let. Me. See. Him,” I grit out. If he doesn’t agree, I really will knee him in the balls.

“Fine, you have fifteen minutes,” he says, and I follow him out of the office to another door where a few jail cells are built into the side of the building in a large room. Long, narrow windows sit at the top of the walls, impossible to escape.

“Eliana?” Killian says.

I hurry over to him, and he reaches through the bars.

“Baby, what are you doing here? You shouldn’t be here,” Killian says and looks over my shoulder.

I follow his line of sight to Wyatt.

“Some privacy, please?” I snap.

Wyatt rolls his eyes and lets the door slam behind him.

Turning back to Killian, I squeeze his hand. “Don’t tell me what to do, of course I’m here. I was trying to get you out, but they won’t listen. Why isn’t anyone listening to us?” My voice breaks.

“The judge is going to set bail tomorrow,” he says.

“That’s what Wyatt said. I’m going to get you out.”

“It’s going to be high. More money than either of us has,” he says sadly, dragging a thumb across my cheekbone.

I ignore him and turn my head, kissing his palm.

“It doesn’t matter. You’re not going to be in here long. I’ll get you out. We have evidence,” I whisper.

“No, we can’t. There’s no way to prove what we found could be linked to the killer,” he says and glances at the door.

“Then what am I supposed to do?” I cry.

“You’re going to go home, you’re going to go check on your goats, pet Tiny, and feed the others. And you’re going to crawl into our bed, and sleep. After that, you’re going to come to the bail hearing so I can see you, and make sure you’re okay and …”

“And then what?” I ask him.

His shoulders drop, and he puffs out a breath. “I don’t know, darlin’. I haven’t thought that far yet.”

“I have,” I whisper. The idea came to me when I spoke to Wyatt.

“What does that mean? Did the Spirits give you an idea?” he asks quietly.

I shake my head and lean forward, pressing my face between the bars. Killian stoops down and kisses me.

“I’m going to draw him out and catch him myself,” I tell him.

Killian jerks back. “The hell you are,” he says.

I narrow my eyes at him. “I will, and then they’ll let you go. That simple.”

“That simple?” Killian says in shock.

“I’m going to do this, and you can’t stop me,” I tell him.

His jaw ticks. “That’s not fair.”

“No, it’s not, but you being in here isn’t either. I have to do something, so I’ll do this. We know he wants me, so it should be easy, right?” I say with a whole lot of fake confidence and plenty of very real fear.

“Please don’t do this. We … we don’t know what he’ll do, and I couldn’t live with myself if he hurt you. Please don’t do this.”

I roll my lips together, fighting myself not to say the words. I’m aware of the risk I’m taking. I know I may not survive it.

“I have to,” I tell him.

“I need you,” I whisper, hoping he hears the intention between the words.

“Kiss me, please,” I beg him.

His eyes search mine, and he leans in, pressing his mouth to mine. I kiss him as hard as I can because this might be my last. I reach through the bars to the back of his neck, grabbing his hair, feeling its softness between my fingers.

Killian groans and thrusts his tongue into my mouth, and I whimper.

Every time he kisses me like this, it writes love on my heart.

He ingrained himself into my very existence, so when I’m cut, I bleed love for him.

Who am I if I don’t sacrifice for the man I love?

Isn’t that the definition of love in and of itself?

“Alright,” Wyatt yells.

Killian kisses me harder, and my knees go weak. I wish it didn’t have to be like this.

“Hey,” Wyatt says, and rips me away.

“Get your hands off of her, Wyatt. I won’t repeat myself,” Killian says furiously.

“And what are you going to do?” Wyatt says.

My head snaps to his. “Stop.”

I stare at Killian a moment longer, and Wyatt forces me out the door.

“I love you!” Killian yells. The door slams, and it rattles my determination. But I’ll do it anyway.

This is good for everyone. The way I see it is, I’ll kill two birds with one stone. Killian will finally be free of the curse of his ancestor, and a killer who has killed one too many women will finally face justice when they catch him.

As I start to leave the station, I pause. I don’t have a plan. But I’ll start with being at my house. That’s where almost everything has happened. Hell, I’ll even leave the doors unlocked.

But first I have to take care of my animals, and that makes me pause. Who is going to take care of my babies? If my plan works, then they won’t have to wait very long.

“Wyatt?” I call.

He raises a brow.

“If I’m not at the bail hearing tomorrow, check my house. I’ll probably be dead. And I’d appreciate if you fed the animals at the ranch. They don’t deserve to suffer. But also, if I’m dead, then you’ll know it isn’t Killian.”

Wyatt’s expression twists. “What do you mean, dead?” he asks.

I open my mouth and hesitate to tell him, watching him carefully. But what’s the point? If it is him, then he’ll know it’s open season on me. I’m ready. “I’ve been having a … stalker issue.”

Wyatt coughs on his peppermint, eyes wide. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” he asks.

I can’t tell what kind of surprise this is.

“I said I’m having a stalker issue. Someone has been coming onto my property and watching me and…” I trail off.

“And you think Killian’s case and this stalker are related?” he asks me.

He stares back openly, either because he is the one doing it, and very good at hiding it, or he’s genuinely curious. I can’t tell.

“Yes,” I say.

Wyatt tilts his head, tonguing the peppermint. “Eliana, if this will help Killian’s case, you should tell me,” he says gently.

“Even if I did, it won’t prove anything enough to exonerate him,” I tell Wyatt.

“But it could—”

“Please … can you please do this?” I ask him.

Wyatt frowns and dips his head. “Yeah.”

“Great,” I mutter, and spin on my heel out of the station.

As I walk out, purpose settles on my shoulders. The sky seems duller, as if it knows what I’m about to do. But I don’t see any other way.

A price must be paid for the lives of many.

I don’t care what the Spirits say. I don’t care if they don’t believe this is my job.

Killian is mine. I will protect what is mine.

The vision of blood in the water fills my mind, and part of me knows it was an omen. It wasn’t a vision. It was a reminder that blood will be spilled — my blood.

After I took care of the animals, gave them a little extra feed, I went back to my house.

Going so far as to park Killian’s truck on another street a mile from my house.

I act normal aside from crying for a few hours.

The pain of missing him shouldn’t surprise me, but it does.

My only grounds for comparison is Grams, and she’s gone — has been for a few months, but at least I’ll see her again sooner rather than later. That will be nice.

I hate that I have to leave Killian like this.

They might not catch my stalker right away, but he’s hanging around, otherwise he wouldn’t be constantly looking at me through my windows, or breaking into my house when I’m not home, only to take one of my dresses, and put it on a woman he killed.

This is an obsession so dark the devil himself must be its creator, and I’m prepared to look him in the eye.

The full moon brightly casts its white light over my shredded garden.

I’ve showered, put on an old nightgown and decided to sit out back to stare at the bones of my shredded garden.

The few plants that Killian was able to replant, some are hanging on by a thread.

The rest of them have been baked by the Texas sun and I’m sure would fall apart at the lightest of breezes.

Wiping the tears from my eyes, the plants remind me of the reality of life.

The erosion of our love was certainly faster than I anticipated, dead before it could consider thriving.

I didn’t know I’d have to let him go so fast.

But everything dies. Everything has its end date, either because another human has the hubris to steal it, or because it was simply time.

For the first time in my life, I had hoped with Killian we could have something that both of us were proud of. We could build a life despite the death. But instead, we have to sink further to end it all.

I was fooling myself. I know that. But I finally had a chance to dream of more because of him.

I left the shotgun inside and flipped the light off to detract bugs.

This is foolish, child. This can only end in more heartbreak. If you truly care for him, you will find another way. The Spirits say.

“Then tell me what it is because I don’t have time, and this is all I could come up with.”

What will you do if this evil comes for you and does much worse than kill you?

“It’s worth it. Plus, it’s possible he doesn’t want to kill me,” I mumble.

What if he doesn’t come at all? What will you do then?

“He knows I’m here,” I tell them.

The Spirits don’t answer back, likely because they’re mad at me.

It doesn’t matter though, I’m a carrot on a stick. He just has to bite.