Page 67 of Saved By the Cruel Highlander
“Of course, ye had to go runnin’ to the Laird, and ye threw yerself at him. What did ye do to him to make him protect ye and go out and kill Felix? Did ye give it up to him before ye were married?”
“Like ye did with Felix?” Holly shot back.
“Aye, ye have a point there,” Alice said. “Us women have to use what we have at our disposal.”
Holly had slammed Alice into the headboard, but it had not been enough to alert anyone. They would have arrived by now. She wondered if screaming would be enough to save Cole when she couldn’t save herself.
“Did ye plan to murder Felix once ye were with him?” she asked.
“Of course,” Alice said with a smile. “It wouldnae have been like what he did to ye, though. It would have been much more spectacular and heartbreaking, and nay one would have suspected anythin’.” She let out a long sigh. “I would have been happy, Holly, but ye had to go and ruin everythin’. I hope ye are happy. I really hope ye are. There’s nothin’ better than bein’ at the end of yer life and dyin’ happy. So, this?—”
“He didnae give ye up,” Holly said, stalling.
“What are ye talkin’ about?”
“Even at the end, he didnae tell Laird McAllister that ye were behind it,” Holly said. “He must have really loved ye, Alice. He could have given ye up and maybe saved his own skin, but he didnae say a word about ye. He was better than ye give him credit for.”
“Och, I give him credit for nothin’,” Alice replied. “He was a fool who was in love, and if he couldnae think of a way out of his death, then pity on him.”
Holly’s eyes widened. “Ye poisoned Ollie, did ye nae?”
“Ye’re nae as dumb as ye look,” Alice said. “Aye, of course, I did. Who else did ye think could have done it? It was easy to sneak in and give him a dose of poison. It would have been poetic for them to find both yers and his body in the mornin’, but ye had to go snoopin’, did ye nae? Ach, what’s done is done. Nay more stallin’. Dinnae worry, I’ll make it quick.”
“I gave ye this,” Holly said, trying to stop what was coming. She held up the ribbon. “I felt sorry for ye and wanted to be yer friend. I would have helped ye.”
“Then ye are as foolish as he was. He thought plenty that was all in his head. Ye dinnae get anywhere in this world by helpin’ people. Ye get what ye want in life by takin’ it.”
The stalling was done. Alice moved, diving forward with the knife, and at the same time, Holly tossed the ribbon at her, for what little good it would do. She had enough time to dodge to the side, so the blade didn’t stab her in the heart, but she was not quick enough to avoid it altogether. It sliced the top of her forearm, which immediately felt numb and warm.
Holly rolled to the side as the knife came down a second time, and the pain came rushing to her arm so quickly that she screamed out in pain before she knew what she was doing. The knife sank into the mattress, but Alice was on top of her.
Holly reached up and grabbed Alice’s wrists to stop the knife from coming down and killing her. Her scream must have alerted someone.
All Holly could think about now was Cole. It didn’t matter whether she lived or died; it only mattered that she lived long enough for someone to get there before Alice could get to Cole.
Her chest burned again from the lack of air, and her arm shook. She couldn’t see in the darkness but could feel the blood pouring out of her wound. Her body was tired, but she would not give up the fight.
Alice shifted, keeping one hand on the knife, poised dangerously above Holly’s head, and brought her other hand down to Holly’s throat, and it felt like a fire rekindled. Her flesh sparked, and then she couldn’t breathe again.
Instinct told Holly to bring one hand down and pry Alice’s hand off her neck, but to do that meant not holding back the knife with as much strength.
So, she lay there, being slowly strangled, both hands clamped around the hand holding the knife. She only hoped she could hold out long enough.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Elias grabbed the handle, burst through the door, and almost gasped at the sight before him.
“What do ye think ye are doin’ to me wife!”
Holly lay on the bed, her face right red, a hand on her neck. On top of her was another woman, one hand wrapped around Holly’s neck, the other wielding a knife. The strain in her arm and body was apparent as Holly used both hands to hold back the knife.
Elias saw red. His mind flashed between the cabin and Holly’s room. He had lost his parents, and Aidan was the cause, and now he was about to lose Holly, and this woman was the cause. His hand went to his belt, ready to grab his dirk and stab her in the back, but it was not there.
He reached out for the first thing he could get his hands on—the wooden chair by the door. As he picked it up, he could smell thecabin and the tang of blood in the air. The chair leg he held in his hand felt the same as the one he had used to beat his brother to death, but he held an entire chair this time and not only the leg.
He gripped the chair with both hands and swung it back as he took three large steps toward the bed. He swung it like an axe. The chair hit the side of the woman’s head with a crack, before exploding into a dozen pieces.
The woman was thrown to the side, five feet from the bed, where she landed on the floor with a dull thud. The knife shot out of her hand and slid across the floor. Elias held the intact chair leg for a moment before he dropped it to the ground and ran to the bed.
