“Ivy! Fuck! Listen to me!” My eyes find his, bloodshot and determined but laced with fear. “What?” I squeak. “There’s blood. Am I shot?” “I am,” he says flatly, still gripping my jaw. “Fucking run. I’ll cover you. Go to the safe room in the basement. If you can’t get in the house, there’s a storm shelter beneath the shooting range. Go! Wells will find you.” A commotion in the woods around the house pulls my attention. A fight. What the hell is going on? Liam fires several deafening rounds at a figure in front of the trees while screaming, “Ivy! Goddammit! Run!”
