from burning down the place, but not at the risk of him hurting me.
He’s fucking insane.
I stumble on the stairs, my shin slamming against a step. I cry out, but then a couple of pounds hit the door downstairs, and I hear wood splinter as it flies open, hitting the refrigerator.
I stop breathing.
Climbing to my feet, I dig in my heels and run to the second floor, hearing footfalls on the stairs behind me. I bypass my door and keep going, tearing up Kaleb’s stairs and swinging the door closed behind me, locking it. I back away from the door, pulling out another arrow, but I trip over my shoe and fall to the ground, catching myself on my hands.
Scurrying farther away, I nock the arrow, hearing his steps ascend the stairs, and I pull back the bowstring as he kicks open the door.
I fire.
His shoulder jerks backward, and I hop to my feet, plucking the last arrow out of my jeans.
But before I can fit it, I watch as he stumbles, sways, and falls to his knees, the arrow pierced through his right shoulder.
I exhale, my lungs and stomach screaming.
More sounds hit the stairs, and I draw back the last arrow, seeing his friend fill the doorway.
His worried, dark eyes fall from me to Holcomb lying on the floor.
I point the arrow at him, and he straightens, holding out his hands in defense.
“The Army sounding like a better idea yet?” I growl.
He nods, and I jerk my chin, telling him to beat it.
He casts one more look at his friend and then bolts, his footsteps disappearing down the stairs.
Terrance grunts, his face twisted in pain as he tries to rise, and I see his sweatshirt soaked with blood.
I shoot out my foot, kicking him to the ground. He lands on the end of the arrow sticking out of his back and howls as I point my last one at him.
I need to call the cops, but I’m not taking my weapon off him yet.
“Fuck,” he cries, gritting his teeth.
He rolls onto his hands and knees and then climbs to his feet. I scramble back, about to shoot him again, but he stumbles out of the room and leans into the wall, descending the staircase. I don’t fucking care if he gets away, as long as he leaves.
I follow him, watching as he hits the floor again, crawling for the staircase. His hands give out underneath him, and he falls, sliding down the stairs and screaming at the arrow in his shoulder.
“Tiernan!” Noah calls from the living room. “Tiernan, answer me now!”
“Here!” I call.
Holcomb spills down the rest of the stairs, and I hold the bow and arrow, seeing Kaleb rush for me, taking my face in his hands.
Noah takes the weapon from me, and I hear the front door swing open again.
“Jesus Christ,” Jake snaps, taking in the scene.
“Stay down,” Noah orders Holcomb, planting his boot on his back and pushing him to the floor. “Or I’ll show you how we handle an injury like that up here without an ambulance.”
Kaleb stares into my eyes, breathing a mile a minute before jerking me in and pressing his lips hard to my forehead.
“Are you okay?” Jake asks, rushing up to us.