Chapter 22
Cheyenne, Wyoming 1867
The next couple of hours was a blur. Róisín felt like she was in a nightmare and she couldn't wake up. Carson's face, contorted with a horrifying mix of fury and twisted righteousness, loomed over Buck. In his hand, a glint of cruel amusement danced in the flickering firelight – a wicked blade reflecting the flames.
"We caught you red-handed," he snarled, his voice dripping with venom. "Defiling Lochlan's sister. Self-defense is a beautiful thing, ain't it?"
A scream tore from Róisín's throat. This wasn't justice, it was a barbaric execution. Ignoring the searing pain that flared in her ribs from Carson's brutal shove, she threw herself between the two men.
"No, please, Carson!" She shrieked, her voice cracking with terror.
But her appeals were lost on him. With a cold, calculating glint in his eyes, Carson shoved her aside. The jagged rocks of the cave wall scraped against her back, the pain a mere flicker compared to the terror that gripped her heart. A cruel smile twisted Carson's lips as he held the knife to her throat.
"You shut your mouth," he hissed, his voice tight. "If you say anything to contradict me, I'll gut you," he threatened, his words laced with a chilling promise. "Just like I'm gonna gut him."
Feeling the cold metal of the knife pressed against her throat, she could only manage a shaky nod in response to Carson's threats. Fear rendered her speechless, her body frozen in place as she braced herself for what might come next. The sharp sting of the blade against her skin sent a shiver down her spine, the metallic scent of blood filling her nostrils.
"I'm gonna savor every moment," he sneered, pressing the knife against her chest with a slow, deliberate motion that traced a chilling path along her collarbone. "He'll be on his knees, begging me to end his miserable life!"
"Carson, please." She breathed shallowly, her eyes never leaving the knife in his hand. "I'll marry you, just please —"
"We are way past negotiations."
His grip tightened around Róisín's neck, cutting off her air supply. She felt her body go rigid, panic pulsating through her veins as she struggled to breathe. A strangled whimper escaped her lips, the sound barely audible. Her mind raced with fear, thoughts of helplessness consuming her every sense.
Suddenly, a guttural roar erupted from behind them. Lochlan. In a flash of movement, he lunged at Carson. His fist connected with Carson's jaw, the sound of bone meeting bone echoing in the confined space.
"Never put your hands on my sister!"
Lochlan hit Carson again, knocking the man off his feet, and sprawling in the dirt. Róisín stumbled back, gasping for breath. In the ensuing struggle, chaos erupted. Buck, who had regained consciousness during the commotion, lunged for Lochlan's fallen gun. The air split with a deafening bang. Smoke filled the cavern as Róisín watched in horror, the scene unfolding in slow motion. Carson crumpled to the ground, a scream in his throat as he clutched at his leg.
Róisín gasped for air as she scrambled to Lochlan's side, pressing her unsteady hands to the gushing wound. Desperation flooded her thoughts as she tried to stem the flow of blood. Lochlan's eyes fluttered open briefly, meeting hers with a flicker of recognition. He attempted to speak but only managed a choked gurgle. His grip on life seemed to weaken, his body going limp in her arms. A wail tore from Róisín's throat and reverberated through the cavern walls.
Before grief could consume her entirely, a strong hand clamped onto her arm and pulled her roughly to her feet. Buck's face was a mask of grim determination.
"You'll hang for this!" Carson snarled, his words laced with venom. "Both of you!"
"You killed my brother!" She cried, defiance flickering in her gaze.
Carson's cruel laughter echoed in the cave. "You think anyone will believe a half-breed and an Irish whore over me?"
Silence fell once more, broken only by the ragged breaths of both wounded men. Another deafening crack shattered the stillness. Róisín flinched as she saw Carson double over, a fresh wound blooming on his arm.
"Just a flesh wound," Buck muttered through strained breaths. "It will buy us time to get out of here."