Page 175 of Beneath the Mountain Sky
Killian wanders over closer to us, keeping his voice low for Niall’s benefit. “You can feel however you want to.”
It’s exactly what he’s said to me over the last several days, too—that I have every right to feel however I want to about Earl, about Amy, about what happened to me.
I can be angry.
I can be devastated.
I can break things.
I can cry.
I can sob and completely fall apart.
As long as you don’t shut me out, you can do whatever you want.
It’s been his only stipulation, his only demand of me—that I don’t shut him out. And I’m doing my best not to do just that. To talk through the memories that I’ve already revealed to him and Sheriff Briggs, the information he needs to ensure the prosecution goes through. To explain the nightmares that wake me, the tears that come when I’m holding Niall.
All of it.
Each painful thing that could so easily send me into that abyss of darkness.
But then Killian’s there to hold me, to let me cry if I need to, to pound against his chest, to let out frustration and agony in any way I need to. To distract me in the way only he can when that’s the only thing that will pull me from the downward plummet.
I give Killian a half-smile, then turn to Liam, squeezing his hand again. “He’s right. But…if you want to talk about it, you know we’re here.”
The youngest McBride gives me a tight smile that doesn’t quite reach his emerald eyes. “I know, and I appreciate it. Really.”
But he isn’t going to tonight.
That much is obvious.
He’s not ready.
It’s too fresh.
Too painful for him.
I can understand that.
But Killian and I won’t let Liam disappear into himself. We won’t let him push us away indefinitely.
Footsteps sound outside on the porch, preventing anyone from delving any further into the issue—probably for the best.
We’ve all been waiting for Connor’s return.
And for the information he should have with him.
The front door swings open, and Connor trudges in, rain dripping from his dark hair and clothes onto the floorboards. He pushes the door closed with his booted foot and toes them off. “Man, it’s brutal out there.”
As if in response, another crack of thunder rattles the house, but this time Niall doesn’t even react, despite Killian watching for it, worrying over it.
Raven and I share a half-grin about it as Connor approaches her with a scowl.
He glares at where she sits, occupying Killian’s father’s old chair—one of his favorite spots. “Do you mind?”
Uh oh.
I recognize the saccharine-sweet smile Raven offers the middle McBride brother all too well.
