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if there is anything I can do to help out more,” Archer said. “I’m pretty handy if I do say so myself.”

“Handsy?” Dorian asked.

Archer’s smile fell from his face. “Handy.”

“Oh, sorry.” He pointed to his ear. “I have a bad ear. My dad liked to smack me upside the head because I sucked at sports.”

Archer stared at him as if he were trying to decide if he was serious. Sadly, he probably was.

The stairs creaked, and I got to my feet. “If you’ll excuse me.”

“Don’t be long,” Archer said, grabbing my hand. He squeezed it, holding on until our fingers slipped apart.

“I won’t,” I said, keeping my head down as I zipped past Sam.

“Hey, Mel?” Sam’s voice was soft enough that I felt comfortable pretending I hadn’t heard it. I jogged up the stairs and closed the bedroom door.

“Let’s get to some packing,” Sam said. “Few hours of light left.”

I didn’t hear anyone respond, but I did hear the front door open and close. I should have been helping, but I wasn’t ready to be around Sam.

The bed squeaked under my weight. I flopped back and stared at the ceiling.

When my eyes opened again, it was dark. Mister Cat was perched on top of me—his purrs vibrating through my chest.

“This is my room now, cat,” I said, sitting up more and more until he hopped off onto the mattress.

He kept his eyes on me as he spun in two complete circles. Mister Cat slowly blinked once as he settled into place.

“Fine,” I said. “You can stay in here for now.”

I groaned and stretched my hands over my head. A yawn pulled the muscles in my neck tight. I could have probably gone back to sleep.

Instead, I got to my feet and walked down to the basement.

Erik was behind the bar, leaning across, talking to Dorian. Sam was behind Archer, pressing her chest into his back as she massaged his shoulders.

“There she is!” Archer said, spinning in his chair. “What took you so long?”

“I fell asleep,” I said, pressing my fingertips to my throat as I swallowed.

I wasn’t sure if my mouth was dry because I was thirsty or if it was because I was having trouble swallowing from seeing Sam all over Archer. Either way, it made me want to go back upstairs. Archer had seemed truly happy to see me, but he also hadn’t seemed to mind Sam groping him.

It wasn’t like I had any claim to him. In fact, I hadn’t wanted any. Last night was a silly mistake, and it was out of my system.

“I need to get something to drink,” I said back away.

“Then you’ve come to the right place,” Archer said, getting off his stool.

Erik’s eyes were on me. His eyes narrowed with confusion. I forced a smile that felt like it wasn’t mine.

“I’ll be right back,” I said, turning.

I practically ran up the stairs to get away from them. It felt like the walls were closing in around me.

I sat down at the kitchen table. My knuckles were white from gripping the edges so tightly.

The sound of someone knocking on the window startled me out of my seat. I moved back abruptly knocking over the chair. It crashed to the ground with a rattling thud that echoed throughout the room.

I dropped out of sight from whoever was at the window, crawling on the ground until I was hidden by the lower kitchen cabinets. My heart was pounding and my chest was tight. I couldn’t breathe.

The knocking turned into pounding. Each thud rattled through my body, shaking my bones.

I reached up and opened the drawer. My fingers fumbled through the utensils.

Stinging pain shot down my forearm as I sliced my finger on the edge of a knife. My hand shook as I grabbed it and held it out in front of me.

Glass shattered, and out of the corner of my eyes, I saw something roll harshly over the floor. My mouth opened, and I screamed.

28

The thundering sounds of feet against the stairs echoed through the house. It felt like they were miles away.

“Mel!” Sam said, sliding on the tiled floor. She dropped to her knees and wrapped an arm around me. “Are you hurt?”

My hand with the knife was still shaking. Each breath painfully squeezed my chest. The tears rolling down my cheeks scalded my skin.

“Help her!” Sam shouted over her shoulder.

Archer and Dorian rushed to me. Archer pried the knife from my fingers. Erik was in the middle of the living room, his gun in hand.

“Get her to the couch,” Sam ordered.

Erik’s eyes darted around the room. Dorian appeared in front of me, holding a glass of water.

“Mel,” Sam said, crouching to meet my eyes. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “There was knocking on the window.”

Sam’s eyes focused on my hand. “You’re bleeding.”

“It’s nothing,” I said so quietly I wasn’t even sure if the words left my mouth.

“Knocking?” Erik asked. “It’s completely broken.”

Dorian held something in his hands. “Might have something to do with this.”

It was a massive rock. He held it with both hands.

“Why would someone throw a rock at the window?” Dorian asked.

“They were knocking first,” I said.

“I don’t have any rocks like that outside,” Erik said. “Someone brought that here with the intention of throwing it through the window.”

Sam ripped off a piece of paper towel and wrapped it around my finger. “It was probably those people from that town. Maybe they didn’t think anyone was here.”

“Candles don’t light themselves,” Erik mumbled as he pressed his hand to the back of his head. “I paid a shitload of money for these windows.”

“Man, if someone wants to get in, I guess they’ll find a

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