My hands tremble.
A very human-looking shape moves past the window toward the front door, and I hold my breath as my blood runs cold, raising goosebumps across my skin.
Someone followed us up here.
Every nightmare I’ve had. All those worst-case-scenarios that have rattled around in my head. They’re all coming true.
All because I didn’t leave.
I’ve put Liam at risk. I’ve put all of them at risk—Killian, Willow, their baby.
The thought of anything happening to any of them makes my stomach pitch violently, and I inch forward on unsteady legs toward the end table beside the couch where I left my purse last night.
Terrified to release the air in my lungs or to draw in more, because even that sound seems loud in the utter stillness of the cabin, I dig into my bag, and my hand finally closes around the only thing that might save us right now.
Forcing myself to take another labored breath, I pull out the .22 revolver.
Its familiar heavy weight in my hand offers a modicum of comfort as I ease my way toward the window to try to peek out. Unfamiliar shapes loom in the darkness, and I strain to see through the morning mist.
Footsteps sound on the porch outside, and I hold my breath again and check the revolver to ensure it’s fully loaded and ready, no matter what comes through that door.
The knob turns, and my hand starts shaking, but I brace the weapon with the other one and level the barrel at whoever’s about to walk through.
The door swings open, and heavy boots appear on the hardwood floor, then a tall, broad-shouldered man with dark hair steps in fully, and I cock the hammer, the gentle clicking sound almost echoing in the quiet stillness.
He freezes and turns toward me slowly, barely visible without any lights on inside the cabin or the sun up yet. “Liam?”
The unfamiliar voice calls out, his plea booming through the lofted second floor.
Gizmo barks and the sound of him racing down the stairs mixes with the slight creak of the mattress upstairs. Stopping at the intruder’s feet, Giz snarls and gnashes his teeth in warning, his deep growl filling the room as hurried footsteps sound upstairs.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Liam look down over the railing as the first hints of daylight start to seep in through the window and wide open door, revealing the man who walked in.
“Lucky, no!” Liam’s voice carries through the cabin as my eyes adjust more and more, allowing me to see the man standing in front of me. “Don’t!”
Frantic footsteps pound down the steps, setting Giz off again as he snaps at the man’s feet.
The man’s eyes drop down to Gizmo, then dart back up at me before sweeping toward Liam as he reaches the bottom of the stairs. “I didn’t realize you had such friendly guests.”
Liam reaches me and takes my trembling hands in his, pulling the gun from me. “Lucky, it’s just Connor.”
“Connor?”
The name registers, but not the face looking back at me with raised dark brows.
I only saw him once, that day in the diner. Barely long enough that I would have recognized him on the street in broad daylight. Certainly not enough that I could in the dark when I’m already jumpy and on edge, worried about bringing Liam into my mess.
“Oh, my God…”
What did I do?
I stumble backward, embarrassment and absolute mind-bending horror at what I almost did racing through me.
Oh, my God.
I could have shot him…
Liam wraps an arm around me, catching me, preventing me from falling to the floorboards. I try to pull out of his hold, but he keeps it on me and hands the gun off to Connor carefully. “Unload that.”
