Page 175 of Credence


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“Just don’t do that again, okay?” I ask her.

I start to help her toward the house, but Kaleb suddenly appears, sweeps her into his arms and away from me, jerking his chin from me to the barn.

I don’t have time to argue before he turns and carries her back to the house, her pained eyes locked only on him as they go.

I clench my jaw, watching them disappear into the house.

And then I turn around to clean up the fucking mess in the barn like I’m told.

Tiernan

I suck in air between my teeth. The gash is too deep.

Letting out a sob, I turn my face away from the blood as Kaleb inspects my arm.

What do I do? We’re miles over snow and dangerous roads from any hospital, and it hurts. What if it gets infected?

My knees shake. I want Jake here.

After Kaleb brought me inside, he sat me down on the kitchen table, wrapped up my arm, and started a fire before running back outside to help Noah. The fire looked all but extinguished, but they had to get the animals back inside shelter, and since the shop was the only thing still fully intact and not drenched in smoke, I watched through the kitchen window as they loaded hay into the garage and brought in the animals. They left the bay door cracked for fresh air, but that wouldn’t stop the noxious mess Jake was going to come home to in a couple days.

God, he’s going to be pissed. Half his barn is now useless, and the shop will smell like horseshit soon.

But hey, at least the animals will enjoy a temperature-controlled environment for a while.

The poor dogs pace around the kitchen table, looking at me with worry.

Kaleb squeezes my arm, and an ache courses deep as it stings. “Kaleb…” I beg.

I don’t know if it really hurts that much, or if I’m just scared. I can’t get to a doctor if I need one.

Turning, I meet his eyes, his brow etched as he grabs a clean towel and presses my hand to it for pressure as he goes to the cabinets above the fridge.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” I hear Noah growl and the front door slam shut. “We’ve never had a fire up here. Not once!” He throws open the cabinet next to the sink and pulls out the bottle of Cuervo they keep there.

“Except that time I shot a flaming arrow into the gasoline jug when I was twelve, but I kind of knew that was going to happen,” he mumbles. “The only thing that got damaged then was my hide.”

I want to laugh, but I don’t have the energy. My hand wets with the blood soaking through the towel as my legs dangle over the edge of the table. I hear the tequila slosh behind me as Noah downs a couple swallows, and I look over, seeing Kaleb throw a red tin box on the table.

My pulse kicks up a notch.

But instead of coming back to the table, he walks behind me, and I hear the sink turn on. I look over my shoulder, seeing him wash his hands.

My stomach churns and knots, and I bite my lip.

“Here.” Noah nudges me, the cool glass bottle hitting my shoulder. “Drink this.”

I shake my head. I can’t stomach anything right now.

Kaleb comes over and opens the box, pulling out various tools.

“Were you guys awake?” I ask, looking between them. “I mean, thank God you caught the fire in time.”

Noah’s gaze flashes to Kaleb, but neither of them answers. Kaleb takes my arm, gently pulling off the sticky towel, and I groan, a tear spilling over.

Changing my mind, I grab the bottle out of Noah’s hand and throw it back, gulping down two hug

e swallows.

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