Someone had come after me in the office. They were looking for me. I knew it.
“Hey, come with me.”
My eyes trailed across the room, how everything was so normal. Not a thing had been touched in here. I knew that wouldn’t be true of anything in the bar.
JR practically pulled me out of the office, but the moment I looked across the hall, into the kitchen, my heart broke.
“Roy,” I whispered.
He laid on the ground, blood pooling around his body as his eyes gave that thousand-yard stare. He had been with me from the start, and now he was dead. My feet started moving toward him without my brain fully comprehending what I was doing. And I would have gone to him if JR hadn’t stopped me.
“Not now,” he said, his eyes flicking to Willa. “She doesn’t need to see this.”
Nodding, I gave one last look to Roy, then followed JR into the chaos of the bar. It was destroyed. Bullet holes peppered the walls. Chairs were broken. Alcohol was spilled behind the bar where the shelves had been fired upon.
And the blood.
A cry threatened to burst free from my lips as I slapped a hand over my mouth. Kasey and Raleigh were on the floor, neither of them moving. I didn’t know if they were dead or just injured, and I couldn’t go to either of them with Willa in my arms.
Lincoln Delaney—the man who loved to flirt with my mom—sat in the corner, his hand pressed to his arm as blood slipped between his fingers. He nodded, letting me know he was okay.
Jack Harding kicked through the glass, picking up the last of a spilled bottle before bringing it to his lips and taking a long drink. I didn’t say a word. If I could, I would get lost in a bottle right now as well.
I stopped looking around the bar, terrified of what else I might see. As JR led me out into the night, I let the chill of the wind whip over me. It was the only thing keeping me from completely falling apart right now.
And then I saw my brother’s face as he ran toward me, his eyes wide with panic as he took in Willa in my arms. Jeffwrapped his arms around me, hugging me tight as he whispered to me that everything would be okay.
But as the sirens filled the night sky, I wondered if anything would ever be okay.
29
ARCHER
The urgencyin JR’s voice as he yelled over the phone that they were under attack had me slipping on my boots and charging for the door. I was barely awake, having only just gotten to sleep after three days of trying and failing to shut off the demons in my head.
But when I heard the sirens in the distance and the rapid gunfire, I didn’t think of anything but getting to JR’s side.
I snatched my keys off the table and ran out of the apartment, nearly falling on the stairs in my rush to get out of there. Flinging the door open, I only made it a few steps before I smelled the acrid scent clinging to the air. Flames licked at the sky from the apartment building across the street from me. It was already engulfed, and anyone stuck inside would not be getting out without some help.
“Cheyenne,” I murmured, immediately abandoning my plans to rush to JR’s aid.
I could hear the sirens in the distance, but there was no waiting. Residents swarmed around the outside of the building, choking and gagging on the thick smoke.
“Cheyenne!” I called out, searching the crowd for her petite frame, but she was nowhere in sight. I ran up to the older couple I knew to be her neighbors. “Did Cheyenne get out?”
The old man shook his head. “The door was stuck. I couldn’t get it open.”
My heart slammed in my chest as I looked up to the third floor at the smoke pouring out of the windows. Flames were already shooting out of the roof. There was no chance she had escaped on her own if she was trapped in there.
I ran for the door, pulling my shirt tight around my face as I leapt through the flames, hissing as the fire kissed my face. The inner door was already melted and burned to a crisp, making it easier to get inside to the stairwell.
Taking the stairs two at a time, I didn’t feel the give in the stairs until it was too late. The boards collapsed under my weight and I started to free fall, reaching out at the last second to grab onto the stair above me.
My fingers ached as I held tight to the wood. With a single glance over my shoulder, I knew that if I didn’t get up there now, I never would. I could feel myself slipping, barely holding on. Working my way slowly toward the banister, I hoped it would hold my weight and that the whole structure wasn’t already compromised.
Sweat slicked my palms, making it impossible to keep my grip. My hand shot out, grabbing the spindle just as I slipped. My breathing turned ragged as I stared at the flames below. With every inhale, smoke burned my lungs, making it harder and harder to breathe.
But I used every ounce of strength I had and swung my leg up to the stair, hoisting myself up. As soon as I was safely on the stairs, I took off once again, choking on the acrid smoke. Tearing my shirt from my chest, I wrapped it around my face, hoping to buy myself just a few more minutes of air.
