Page 208 of A Curse On Black Lake
“Maybe she lied,” Wyatt mumbles.
“Why would she?” I ask.
He doesn’t answer.
“Why would I have killed a woman, and made her look like Eliana when IhaveEliana?” I ask him.
“I know crime isn’t always logical, but that makesno senseat all. Even you have to agree with me.”
Wyatt rubs his chin thoughtfully. “And you think this guy with Eliana istheguy?”
“It’s worth going to check to know for sure. You lose nothing if it’s not him. But you gettheguy if it is, and I can finally move on from this bullshit.”
Wyatt pulls a ring of keys from his belt and stops in front of the door. “I’m trusting you, Killian. If you’re wrong, don’t fight me to come back here.”
“Deal, come on, open the door. We need to gonow.”
Wyatt hesitates, then unlocks the door. He stops me before I can step out of the cell. “I have to cuff you, or the guys are going to ask questions. This has to be believable.”
I groan and spin around with my hands behind my back. “Fine,” I grunt.
The cold metal wraps around my skin, and he grabs my arm like he would any criminal and leads me out of the holding room. I keep my head down, and my mouth shut.
Wyatt takes me through the back door of the station and around to the passenger side of his truck and unlocks the cuffs.
He doesn’t say a word backing out of his space, heading to my ranch.
“Wyatt, faster. We’re running out of time, and I’ll kill you myself if something happens to her before we get there.”
Chapter sixty-three
Eliana
We’reontheedgeof the lake, the black water staring back, opening its arms to my oblivion.
“Why does that matter?” he asks.
“Because I don’t particularly want to die today,” I mumble to the water.
He laughs. “Well, it’s a good thing you’re not the one making the decisions,” he says.
I look around, still trying to figure out how to get away from him. I could try swimming across the lake. The section we’re in isn’t that wide. I could make it to the other side, but then what?
Maybe I can outsmart him, get him talking, and distracted and then make a run for it.
“Get on your knees,” he commands.
I shake my head, taking a step back from him closer to the water.
He pulls the knife again, holding it to my jugular. The sharp tip pierces my skin. “Get. On. Your. Knees,” he says, and barely flicks the knife cutting me.
I drop to the ground, pain shoots up my knees, and he stares down at me with a devilish look. I thought I knew him, and maybe I did, but he changed. “What happened to you, Edward?” I ask him.
His lip curls in a sneer, and anger wafts off of him in waves. But this isn’t simply anger. He’s furious, to the point of vengeance.
“I don’t know how you could ask me that. My parents took me away from you. They split us apart when we were meant to be together forever,” he says with such conviction I realize he truly means it.
“Eddy, we were seventeen, what did we know about anything?”
