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“No!” She was being dragged around the house, a hand clamping over her mouth.
“Sarah, shut up.” Brock. Oh God. His voice, furious, enraged, but his voice hissed in her ear.
She saw Cade then, sweeping Marly back away from the doorway as the black clad figure went running out of the house, still clutching the rifle, searching for a target.
The men moved swiftly. The guns they held in their hands rose, leveled as bullets suddenly pelted the side of the house.
“Fuck!” Brock cursed violently, dragging Sarah on around the house as the sound of a motorcycle fired up.
Brock and Cade kept them moving until they were able to push them into the back door, back into the kitchen.
“Stay.” The order was direct, furious as they rushed from the house again.
Sarah looked at Marly with a frown.
“Do they do that often?” Sarah asked Marly with a frown.
“Often.” Marly slid down the wall, her pale face gleaming with perspiration as she collapsed on the floor.
“Are y
ou okay, Marly?” Sarah flung a drawer open, grabbed a dishrag and wrapped it around the wound on the other woman’s arm.
“Yeah. Just tired.” Tired and terrified. Sarah completely sympathized with her.
Sam stumbled into the house then, dazed, shaking his head.
“Asshole put us the hell to sleep.” He shook his head, took one look at Marly and paled. He turned and rushed back out of the house again.
“Uh oh.” Marly leaned her head against the wall. “All hell will break loose now.”
Cade’s demented scream echoed around them, causing both women to wince. He rushed into the house at a dead run, nearly falling on the glass as he slid to a stop. He stared down at the bloody rag wrapped around Marly’s arm, then paled alarmingly.
“Marly?” He went to his knees in front of her.
“You faint and I’ll clobber you,” she bit out. “Big, tough man can play cowboy and stalker but can’t handle a little blood.”
Sarah snorted. Cade could only shake his head.
“Marly, how bad is it?” Brock seemed to be the only sane one. He knelt beside Sarah, touching Marly’s cheek gently as he watched her.
“It’s a scratch. Might need a stitch or two though. I’d appreciate it if you would call Doc. I could sure use one of those pain shots he’s always pawning off on everyone,” she sighed.
Cade unwrapped the makeshift bandage and it was then that Sarah saw the tears that covered the man’s face. Marly ignored them, but her face was ravaged by the pain the sight of it caused.
“Cade, she’s fine,” Sarah assured him. “What about the bastard with the gun?”
“He got away. He drugged Rick’s men, knocked Rick out. We were lucky this time. He thought he got Brock and me but we were able to fool him. We tried to get here sooner.”
“Call Doc, Sam,” Cade bit out. “I’m taking Marly upstairs. Get the sheriff out here and see if Rick and his men are able to walk yet. I want everyone in the fucking house, now.”
He picked Marly up in his arms, cradling her close, his body trembling with tiny shudders barely discernable in the dimming light.
“That man needs a relaxer,” Sarah sighed, leaning wearily against Brock. “Hell, I think I need one.”
Brock was silent. He lifted her into his arms, much as Cade had Marly and moved swiftly through the house to his room.
“You’re bleeding.” His voice was rough as he sat her on the toilet and began to run water into the tub.
