Page 65 of Beneath the Mountain Sky

Liam continues to watch me, crossing his arms over his chest, like he’s waiting for something from me, some sort of offer of information I have no plans on giving him. “I saw Willow was out in her workshop this morning.”

My swing falters and misses the log, slamming down into the stump, and Liam barks out a laugh that carries across the timber yard, melting away into the sound of the machines, forklifts, and semi-trucks pulling away with loads destined for dozens of different cities across the eastern seaboard.

He chuckles low, shaking his head. “You’re really twisted up about her, aren’t you?”

I growl at him as I jiggle the axe head free from where it’s lodged in the stump. “You pointing it out doesn’t help very much.”

He nods slowly. “Look, I know things are complicated between you two, especially given how things ended.”

The tension that I had started to work away returns at the mention of our breakup, so I throw another log on the stump and send the pieces flying again.

Trying to ignore him and what he just said.

“And anyone who sees the two of you together knows that this is the real thing, Killian, so tell her the truth, and do it sooner rather than later, if you want any chance of having a future with her that you blew last time.”

Well, fuck.

I drop the head of my axe onto the ground as he turns his back and stalks away toward the office.

He’s smart enough to know to avoid a full-blown confrontation about this, and given my mood, that’s what would have happened if he had stayed and pushed.

The last thing I needed was another Liam insight at this moment, especially when I’m feeling so conflicted over my continued attraction to her when she’s broken, bruised, battered, when I know she would feel differently about me if she knew the truth.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!”

Right now, all I want to feel is pain. The burn of exertion. The sting of my palms when I overwork them on the axe handle.

It’s what I need.

I shatter two dozen more logs before my muscles start to really feel the effort.

Then I keep going.

And going.

Working well into the afternoon, until the sun has moved across the sky, and all the men start to trail off toward their trucks to leave at the end of the day.

The door to the office opens on the far side of the property, and Connor steps out, eyes narrowing on me as he makes his way across the yard. When he reaches me, he stands almost exactly where Liam had been, crossing his arms over his chest in the same pose, watching me splinter yet another log. “You’ve been out here for hours, Kill.”

I snarl at him, set up another log, and let it fly.

He ducks to avoid getting hit with one half of it.

“I. Fucking. Know.”

That was the whole point.

My intent.

To come out here and work myself so hard that I can’t feel anything but the aching muscles and sore hands.

“Well, did you know it’s almost dinnertime?”

Shit.

I mean, the signs suggested that. The movement of the sun. All the employees leaving. The ache in my back and shoulders.

“Are you planning on feeding Willow tonight?”