Page 50 of Beneath the Mountain Sky (McBride Brother Lumberjacks #1)

KILLIAN

M y eyes meet Connor’s and Liam’s over Willow’s shoulder.

Her rush of words.

The truths in them.

The horrific reality of what she endured crashes over me, bringing a wave of icy resolve with it.

He hurt my Honeybee .

He took my son.

I thought I was familiar with rage. That fury and I had become friends, especially over the past several weeks, but what courses through me now rivals anything I’ve ever felt before. The kind of biblical wrath people burn for eternity for acting on.

Liam shakes his head, his emerald eyes wide and filled with trepidation as he watches me. “Don’t even think about it, Killian.”

There is no thinking now.

Just doing.

Connor takes a step toward us, hand fisted, jaw locked. Clearly reading me as well as our little brother has. He’s ready to jump in if necessary to stop me from doing something stupid. “ Don’t .”

The word means nothing to me.

I gently pull away from Willow, feathering my lips over her forehead.

Pushing to my feet, I clench my palm over my wounded arm as blood continues to seep from it despite the triage we attempted. I lock eyes with each of my brothers. “Don’t even think about trying to stop me or getting in my way.”

“Fuck.” Connor advances on me, his intent to interfere with my plans written all over his face. “Killian, no!”

Liam grabs his shoulder and holds him back.

“Wait for the sheriff, Killian.” He pleads with that look he used to give me as a child when he wanted us to take him along on our mountain adventures.

Only this time, he’s trying to stop me. “Don’t go up there alone.

You’re going to get yourself fucking killed. ”

Willow whimpers, clutching at my leg. “No, you can’t…”

Her words and the panic in her voice should stop me.

But all I can see is red.

She struggles to her feet, then grasps the front of my shirt, forcing me to look at her.

My blood smeared across her cheeks only intensifies my rage.

The things he did to her, the things she suffered up here, for a year.

Willow went through her pregnancy with a madman instead of with me , had our baby here instead of with me …

He locked her away.

Struck her, if the memories she’s had over the last several days since the hypnosis are any indication.

Kept her chained and at his mercy.

My skin flames hot with fury, and I release my grip on my arm, reach down and tug her hands free of my shirt, squeezing her wrists. Ensuring my gaze is locked with her stormy, tear stained one so she can see my resolve. “I will be back with him. I promise .”

I crush my lips to hers and step away before she can stop me, snagging my axe from where it fell to the ground when I pushed her to safety.

There isn’t anything any of them can do or say to stop me now.

Nothing that could break through this red haze of wrath consuming me.

Nor would I want it to.

Earl Byers deserves whatever I do to him and then some.

I stalk toward the edge of the woods, cautiously keeping myself concealed in the heavier trees and backtracking a hundred yards or so to where the trail curves slightly.

If he’s where we think he might be, he won’t be able to see me cross it from back here.

Hopefully.

And if Connor and Liam are smart, they won’t come after me.

I trust them to keep Willow safe.

The only people on this planet—and certainly this mountain—that I would entrust that duty to.

They won’t let her into the line of fire, no matter how much she might want to rush after me, especially now that she remembers everything.

Good God…

It explains so much .

The memories of the pain she had in her abdomen, the vomiting, running away in a storm, carrying something she knew was important.

All of it fits into that puzzle so perfectly.

He was her reason.

Our son.

We were.

The family we should have been together this whole time.

My hand tightens on the axe as blood trickles down my left arm. I keep stalking through the woods and pause for a moment to listen for any movement before quickly darting across the trail.

Earl Byers…

He used to work at McBride Timber when Dad was still alive.

He had access to the old maps, likely explored this side of the mountain and the abandoned camp that was set up here.

He knew it would be secluded.

He knew he could bring Willow here and not be discovered.

Fuck.

For all I know, he and his wife were up here for years before she left, and no one knew about it?—

A twig snapping somewhere to my left makes me freeze, then I quickly dart behind a massive tree trunk.

I peer around the corner, searching for the source.

No sign of anyone.

But the hair on the back of my neck stands on end.

I shift around the tree and inch closer and closer to where I heard the sound.

Keeping low.

Careful with each step.

Hunting an animal.

Finally, I see it, the flicker of movement. But the thick foliage conceals too much to clearly see what I’m up against.

You can’t hide from me…

This is where I’m most at home.

Out here.

In the trees.

With an axe in my hand.

There isn’t anywhere else I’d rather have this showdown with the man who ripped my family away from me.

I circle well out of the way behind him until I’m close enough to see where he’s crouched, rifle set up on a log aimed directly at where we were advancing down the trail when he started shooting.

The camouflage he wears helps him blend into the heavy brush, but he can’t conceal his movements.

He keeps scanning the area.

Vigilant.

Alert.

Yet too fucking stupid to know that I would just backtrack and circle around him.

Gotcha.

By the time I am close enough to grab him, it’s too late.

He whirls, finally sensing me behind him, but I’m close enough to knock the barrel of the gun away with my axe and grab him by the fucking throat, tightening my hand around it and slamming him back against the fallen log he was using as a sniper’s perch.

Wide, frantic eyes sweep over my face as he struggles in my grasp, his hands tightening around my bloody wrist as it seeps down from the wound in my arm that he created.

But it’s nothing compared to the one he tore into my soul, knowing what he did to Willow, knowing what I lost with her.

Being there for her through her pregnancy. Watching her belly grow with my child. Talking to him. Loving them both. Holding her hand when she was in agony, giving birth. Holding my son.

All of it.

My tears burn as they leak from my eyes, but they do nothing to quell the heat of my fury. I tighten my hand around his throat and watch his face start to go purple. “Where the fuck is he?”

His nails claw at my wrist.

The bite of pain doesn’t stop me from tightening my grip even more.

“Don’t kill him, Killian!” Willow’s voice cuts through the fog of my anger and bloodlust. “Killian! Stop!”

Frantic footsteps fill the afternoon air.

I glance over my shoulder to find her racing through the woods toward me with Connor and Liam hot on her heels.

Fuck.

Why didn’t they keep her away?

“Killian, no!” She tugs at my shoulder, trying to loosen my grip on him. “If you kill him, he won’t be able to tell us where Niall is.”

Niall?

Another emotional blow slams into my heart.

She named him after Dad?

My hold loosens slightly.

After everything I put her through, everything she suffered up here, she still chose that name for our son.

Our baby .

Visions of her belly growing with him and of the agony she must have endured without any medical care during her delivery choke me the same way I am the man responsible.

She’s right.

If I kill him now, we might not ever find Niall.

I slowly ease my grip on his throat, only enough for him to breathe. He gasps, sucking in ragged breaths of air, but I shift my axe up against his jugular, pinning him down while threatening him with my blade instead.

“Where the fuck is my son?”

Earl’s glare widens. “He’s my son. Mine. You hear me?”

I press the blade into his skin, watching the trickle of blood drip down his neck, and lean in close, snarling in his face. “I will cut you apart piece by fucking piece until you tell me where he is.”

The asshole shakes his head. “No. He’s mine.” His eyes shoot up over my shoulder to Willow. “I always knew you were a whore. I let you take one son from me. I’m not going to let you take another.”

He’s rambling again.

Not making any sense.

“I should have killed you as soon as you came back.”

The day he found her with the truck on the mountain…

I urge the blade deeper. “Where is he?”

Earl starts trembling beneath me, and I tighten the grip on his throat, cutting off his airway again as I ease the blade along the edge of his face to where his ear connects near his cheek, then pressing in. “I won’t do this nice and easy. Do you understand me?”

He screams, or at least tries to, but there isn’t enough air in his lungs as I start to sever his ear.

Rushed footsteps sound up the trail, and Tony comes into view along with several others from the search party.

“Killian, stop.”

He’s the sheriff.

The law.

It should mean something when he gives me an order, but this is the man who ruined my life, who ruined Willow’s, who took my son, and I’m not about to let him get away with it.

Connor rushes over to Tony. “Send them up the trail. Look for the cabin. Willow had a baby. He’s up here somewhere.”

“What?” Tony’s gaze shoots to us, and his shoulders slump in resignation.

He knows he won’t be able to stop me now, that there’s no fucking chance.

Instead, he gives me a sharp nod, then motions to the rest of the search party and takes them up the trail, disappearing into the trees, leaving me to do what needs to be done.

* * *

WILLOW

Over the years, I’ve seen Killian annoyed.

I’ve seen him angry, volatile, and lashing out at people.

But I’ve never seen him like this .

His entire body tenses while it trembles beneath my hand. A warm, flesh-and-blood man, yet his stone-cold, icy glare doesn’t even look human. Any ability to remember who he is at his heart has vanished in a cloud of rage.