I held on to his arm because I was scared, more scared than I’d ever been. “They’re here for me, which means they probably won’t kill me. Give me your gun and hide under the bed.”

He put his forefinger to his lips again, giving me a fiery look that said, “Shut up now.”

Footsteps grew louder.

They entered the bedroom.

I was so fucking scared, I was about to pass out.

The closet doors were thrown open. The bathroom was checked.

Maybe they wouldn’t look on the other side of the bed.

But they did.

A man stepped around and stilled when he saw us.

Gilbert pulled that trigger, shot him right in the chest, and he went down instantly.

I covered my mouth to stop the scream that wanted to burst out.

The men heard the shot and came running. “She’s here!”

Gilbert moved in front of me, covering me with his body as he prepared to face off against the men who came.

I held on to him, tears streaming down my face.

One man came around the corner of the bed, carrying a shotgun. He pointed it right at Gilbert.

Gilbert was still, staring down that barrel without fear. “He’ll come for you. All of you.”

I was barely coherent because the sobs racked my chest. “I’ll come with you. Just—”

He pulled the trigger.

“Ahh!” My hands immediately released him when the blood hit me.

Gilbert went limp and slid to the floor, his eyes still open, his chest still rising and falling.

“No!” My hand immediately went to his chest to stop the bleeding…even though nothing could be done.

The man grabbed me by the hair and dragged me away. “Come on, bitch.”

I screamed as I was dragged across the floor. “No!” I tried to fight back, but that just hurt my scalp harder.

Gunshots rang out in the house.

The man stilled and looked out the door before he grabbed me by the arm and yanked me to my feet.

The gunshots grew louder, making my ears ring as they echoed down the hallways.

He pulled me into the hallway then abruptly yanked me back like he saw something. He pushed me back and aimed his shotgun, as if expecting someone to round the corner any moment.

It must have been Fender’s men, so I kicked him in the back of the knee so he would falter and drop his aim. “Help!”

A man rounded the corner and moved too quickly for me to see what actually happened. But there was no gunshot. A knife sliced across the man’s throat and made him collapse in front of me.

I crawled backward to get away.

Then I saw Fender standing in front of me.