Page 55 of Beneath the Mountain Sky (McBride Brother Lumberjacks #1)

But it seems as though it’s come to an end.

I clear my throat. “And?”

Connor takes a drink and shrugs. “The dude is genuinely off his rocker. I don’t know the technical medical terms, but it sounds like they’re anticipating his public defender arguing the insanity defense.”

A low growl slips from Killian’s lips.

Raven shifts forward on the chair. “That motherfucker.”

I sit numbly on the couch, trying to process his words. “What? Does that…does that mean he’d go free?”

Connor shakes his head. “No. Apparently, if they try to claim it and the jury buys it—assuming he goes to jury trial—he’ll end up in a mental institution, probably for the rest of his life, given what he did to you.”

I release a long, uneven breath.

It isn’t prison, but at least he’d be locked away somewhere where he can’t hurt anyone else again.

That’s… something.

Raven doesn’t appear to feel the same way, glaring at Connor as if he’s the one responsible instead of just the messenger. “And what about Amy?”

Connor sighs. “Well, that’s more complicated. The District Attorney wants to use her to testify against Earl if necessary, so she may get a deal?”

Killian glares at his brother. “So, she’d get off without jail time?”

Raven climbs from the chair, coming to squat next to me and take my hand in hers.

“No way. I won’t allow that to happen. I don’t care if I have to contact every major newspaper in the country, I will make sure the story gets plastered across every one of them until the uproar would be too much to ignore and they lock that bitch up. ”

Connor glowers at her. “Can I answer before you go off on one of your ‘reporter saving the world’ crusades?”

Her lips twist, but she nods at him.

He sighs. “I don’t think they are saying no jail time, but she might get sent to a lower security facility, something like that.” He shakes his head. “There’s no fucking way the DA is letting her walk away from her role in all this.”

I release the breath I’ve been holding.

Killian moves closer until he’s towering over where I sit on the couch, staring down at me with enough concern that I think he might actually hand Niall off to Liam to take me in his arms instead.

“Honeybee? You all right?”

“Umm.” I nod, even though I don’t really feel all right. The last thing I need is to give him more to worry about. “Yeah. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. He wasn’t all there…”

It doesn’t excuse what he did to me.

Nothing could.

And given the way he treated me, thinking I was his wife, given the fact that she fled from him with their child twenty years ago, he’s never been a good man.

They might need Amy to testify about what she knows about all of this, especially given her medical training.

I should have seen this as a potential outcome and prepared myself for it.

Liam slides his hand over my free one and squeezes. His first reaction to anything Connor has said. I look over at him through the tears, and he gives me a hard smile.

The man is his father.

His mother died trying to prevent him from suffering at Earl’s hands.

And Amy is his only other living relative.

We’re bonded in this for life, and the look he gives me tells me he understands completely how I feel, even if he shares blood with my assailant and his accomplice.

Raven moves out of the way, disappearing into the kitchen to get another drink while Killian squats in front of me, Niall still cradled in one large arm, while he holds the bottle to his mouth with the other hand.

Our eyes lock, and the confidence I see in his gaze is enough to steady my heartbeat.

“That man will never hurt anyone again. He will never get near you or our son again. Neither will Amy. I promise you that. If either of them tries, I’ll finish what I started on the mountain.”

* * *

KILLIAN

The soft sound of the rain hitting the roof and windows creates an almost lullaby now that the major part of the storm has passed. Without the thunder startling the baby awake, we finally have a chance of getting Niall to settle down for the night.

I watch Willow bent over the bassinet in the corner of the bedroom. She leans in and kisses him before she turns and makes her way back to me.

Willow climbs into bed, pulling the sheet and comforter up over herself as I wrap my arms around her and tug her tightly against me.

“He’s asleep?”

She nods and releases a relieved sigh.

It’s been a long day—as have all of them recently—but the news about Earl and Amy has rattled me more than I would ever admit to her. Willow doesn’t need my anger and frustration to compound whatever she’s feeling.

That fucker deserves to die for what he did to her, and Amy is no better.

I should have ended it on the mountain when I had the chance.

Even if he had never taken Willow, he deserves to see the business side of my axe for what he did to his wife and what would have happened to Liam if she hadn’t saved him.

A little shiver rolls through Willow, something that happens far too often for my liking, and I drag my lips across her shoulder blades. “What’s wrong?”

She shakes her head. “Nothing.”

It’s a lie.

And the one thing I’ve told her every day is that she can’t shut me out.

If Willow shuts me out, it will lead us into a very bad place, somewhere we might not ever be able to recover from.

I tilt her chin back until her eyes meet mine. “Don’t lie to me, Honeybee.”

Her eyes soften. “I’m okay, really. Just, you know…everything.”

“I do know.”

Even without her saying it.

It’s been hard for me to maintain any level of control or semblance of normalcy.

Nearly impossible to keep myself even-keeled when I want to destroy something in retaliation for what happened to her.

Even taking my axe out into the woods for hours, slamming it into trees until my palms bleed, or going to my shop and carving hasn’t been enough of an outlet.

Nothing can cure this pain.

Nothing can undo what’s been done.

But what she needs right now is a distraction, an outlet for the maelstrom of feelings that seems to be occupying her head tonight.

I brush my lips across her cheek, over to her ear, as I push my hips against her ass until she can feel my growing cock. “I can think of a way to make you feel better, Honeybee.”

It might not be a permanent solution, but in this moment, all I can do is try to fix the now.

She groans slightly and rolls her hips back against mine.

We haven’t touched each other, not like this at least, since we found Niall.

Too exhausted, physically and emotionally.

Too distracted by taking care of him and dealing with the fallout of what we discovered beyond the gorge.

But I know what she needs right now, what I need.

We need to feel alive again.

We need to take control of our lives by giving in to the one thing that has always brought us the closest to each other and sheer bliss.

I nip at her ear. “I need you to be quiet.”

Willow issues a little moan, her hands snaking back between us to grip my cock as I glide one down across her belly, under the waistband of her sleep shorts, into her cunt.

Rough fingertips find her slick heat, and my chest rumbles in approval. “Already so wet for me, Honeybee.”

She whimpers again and bites her lip to try to silence herself.

The last time I asked her to be quiet, we were in the woods and I had her pinned against that tree. She couldn’t do it then, not in the end. Hopefully, she can tonight, or Niall will wake up, and that could really interfere with my plans.

I still my hand, pausing to ensure he hasn’t woken already.

Willow rolls her hips in my hold, seeking friction I refuse to give her. Her deft fingers stroke my cock through the soft fabric of my sweatpants, but she eagerly slips her hand beneath the waistband so she can spread the bead of pre-cum across the head.

Somehow, I manage to fight back a groan.

God, I love this woman.

Her kiss.

Her touch.

Her smile.

Her laugh.

Her tears.

How good a mother she is to our son.

How incredibly forgiving and understanding she is with everyone, especially me.

All of it.

I can’t imagine life without her.

I tried that once, and it almost killed me.

“Marry me.”

Her hand stills on my cock, and she peeks back over her shoulder at me. “What?”

It may have been a whisper, but she definitely heard what I just said. “You heard me, Honeybee. Marry me.”

We haven’t even talked about it—the fact that she left the ring when she fled the mountain—but I need it on her finger now .

I need that confirmation that everything we went through has brought us full circle and hasn’t stolen the life we had planned before our worlds fell apart.

I need something tangible for both of us—something we can look to when times get tough and our past wounds feel too painful to bear.

I need her to say yes.

Her gaze softens as she holds my gaze, the sound of the rain filling the space where her answer should be. The first time I did this, she didn’t hesitate. She had no reason to. But so much has happened since then. So many things that have changed both of us.

The tears shimmering across her eyes could mean so many things I’m not capable of deciphering.

But one emotion burns red hot—love.

Despite all the reasons she shouldn’t, this woman loves me and trusts me with every part of her.

The good.

The bad.

The scary.

The angry.

The broken.

The same way I trust her with all those parts of me.

I slowly glide a finger up inside her, and she groans, tightening around it and arching into my hold even farther. Her grip on my cock increases as her breathing hitches.

“Is that a yes, Honeybee?”

A tiny laugh slips from her lips, and she nods as her hand clenches around my cock a second time, tugging in a way that makes my balls ache.

Sweet mother of God.

She may not have said the word, but she did agree to be my bride. To become Mrs. Killian McBride. This stunning woman, who had my baby, is going to be my wife.

And I can’t wait another second to show her how much she means to me in the only way I know how.

I quickly pull her hand away, shuck off my pants, and pull her shorts down her legs to give us better access to each other, then settle back in behind her. My hand slides between her legs again, and I slip one finger inside her, then a second, plunging into her heat.

She rolls against my palm, gripping my wrist.

Frantic.

Desperate.

The same way my heart beats and my blood rushes in my ears.

It’s not enough, not for either of us.

Pulling my hand away, I drag her left leg up and back over my thigh to open her up, then press the head of my cock at her slick entrance. “Remember, quiet, Honeybee.”

She nods as I glide into her, slowly letting her feel all of me.

Her chest vibrates with her groan, but she keeps biting her lip, holds the noise in somehow, even as I struggle not to roar at the feel of her hot cunt squeezing around my cock.

Every damn time feels like coming home.

Like finding the single place on this planet I was meant to spend forever.

I drop my forehead against her hair, inhaling that scent that I missed so much while she was away, that I craved to have back in my bed, in my house, in my lungs.

Lavender and honey…

And now I have confirmation that it will always be here.

Because I have everything I ever dreamed of.

This beautiful woman who wants to spend the rest of her life with me, our son, the future laid out in front of us that we always should have had.

I draw my hips back and thrust into her again, setting a smooth, slow rhythm.

Long.

Unhurried.

Strokes.

I want to savor her.

Every twitch of her body.

Every little moan and gasp she tries to fight.

Every clench around my length.

Every time the head of my cock catches at that spot deep inside of her, her legs tighten, her thigh struggling against my hold.

I slip my free hand under her and find her breast, tweaking her nipple as I continue to drive into her. Her body jolts in my hold, a tiny mewl finally falling from her lips that she can’t contain, despite her best efforts.

My movements become more erratic.

My thrusts harder and deeper.

Her hips rolling back to meet each one.

I shift my palm to her other breast and twist her nipple there, giving her that little bite of pain.

She moans and arches her neck, begging for what she needs. I slide my hand up around it, tightening and angling her head until her ear is at my lips, stilling my hips to emphasize my point now that I have her where I want her.

“I fucking love you, Willow.” Thrust. “You’re a McBride.” Thrust. “You’re mine .” Thrust. “No one”— thrust —“and nothing”— thrust —“will ever get between us again.”

I keep pumping into her, keeping it slow, dragging out the pleasure for both of us as long as possible—before we both snap and lose control.

She whimpers against my hand and swallows hard, the motion rippling under my palm, enough to make my cock ache deep inside her. Her pussy clamps down on me, and her body vibrates harder, trembling so badly that I know she’s close.

So damn close.

“I know how much you want to come on my cock, don’t you?”

She nods as I roll my hips and thrust deep again, then still.

“Then do it for me, Honeybee.”

I unleash that restraint I’ve been clinging to.

Driving into her as hard as I can in the position we’re in.

Planting my foot into the mattress for leverage and to give her a different angle.

One that guarantees I hit the spot that made her squirt down my throat in the kitchen.

That’s what I want.

That kind of release for her.

One that might be able to wash away whatever was weighing on her when she climbed into this bed with me tonight.

With one more flex of my palm on her throat and drive of my hips, her head arches more against my grip, and she comes.

I slide my hand up over her mouth to stifle her cry as her pussy pulses along my cock, clasping and clutching, rippling the same way her throat does.

It drags my own release free and I still, coming deep inside her in mind-bending spurts of pleasure that spread to every inch of my body.

A release of more than just sexual need.

I’m letting go of everything.

My anger at myself.

My anger at the world.

Even my anger at the time we lost.

Because I have everything I ever need right here beneath the mountain sky.