“Keiley,” he hissed, turning and racing back up the stairs.
His chest tightened with sudden terror, fear pumping through his mind as adrenaline raced through his body. He tore into the bedroom, coming to a hard, furious stop as he glimpsed Keiley. She stood in the corner, her back flat against the wall as she stared at the French doors that led onto the balcony.
She was out of line of a shot, but her weapon was held in a two-handed grip and pointing at the door latch. Ominously, with sinister intent, the brass door latch shifted.
Mac didn’t think first. He fired.
“Motherfucker!” he yelled, running to the shattered doors as Keiley screamed and Jethro threw himself through the glass.
Following, Mac came to a crouch, weapon raised as he heard Pappy’s furious barking below.
“Pappy, down!” he yelled as he gripped the railing and threw himself over the banister.
He hit the ground in a roll, coming up behind the heavy cement fountain that sat feet away. He was aware of Jethro rolling to the opposite side, taking cover behind the aging dogwood that grew alongside the house and led to the balcony.
A motorcycle roared to life from the front of the house, and even as Mac dug in his heels and raced for the front drive he knew he was too late.
“Bastard! You fucking bastard!” he snarled as he caught the receding lights of the dirt bike in the distance.
Aiming, he emptied the clip into the distance, rage beating through his blood as he heard Jethro cursing behind him.
“Son of a bitch!” His fist slammed into the side of his pickup. “You bastard!”
“Mac. ” Jethro rushed to his side. “He’s gone, man. ”
“Keiley. ” Mac turned and rushed for the house, ready to kick in the front door rather than pausing to unlock it when it suddenly opened.
His weapon came up, pointing straight into Keiley’s horrified face as Jethro cursed violently behind him.
“God damn you! Damn you, I told you to stay put!” Mac yelled into her pale, tear-soaked face as he gripped her shoulders and pushed her into the house.
Fear was an entity possessing him. Rage beat at his brain as he pressed her against the wall, glaring into her wide, horrified eyes as he restrained himself from shaking her.
“What don’t you understand about staying put, Kei?” he yelled. “I could have blown your fucking head off!”
“Let her go, Mac,” Jethro said in a dangerous voice, his hands locking on Mac’s wrists. “God damn it, you’re hurting her. Let her go. ”
He was thrown back as Jethro moved between him and his wife.
“Get the fuck out of my way. ” He went to push past his friend, to get to his wife, to make certain she was alive even if he was madder than hell.
He had never been so furious in his life. Never so terrified as he was at the thought that that bastard had slipped upstairs and nearly caught her undefended.
“Not until you calm down!” Jethro yelled back at him. “She’s fucking terrified. Don’t make it worse. ”
“I nearly fucking killed her. ” He pushed Jethro back, then stared at Keiley’s crumpled form.
“God. Kei. Baby. ”
She was sobbing silently against the wall, her face pressed into it her hands, her shoulders hunched against the force of the violence raging through her room.
Gripping her shoulders, he turned her to him gently. So gently. His hands touched her hair, her shoulders, his arms contracting around her as he closed his eyes against the moisture suddenly filling them.
“Kei, baby,” he whispered at her ear. “I’m sorry. Ah, God. Sweetheart. I almost killed you, Kei. I would have died. Do you know that?” He pressed his lips to her brow as she shook in his arms, sobs tearing through her. “Keiley, I would have died. I couldn’t live, baby. I couldn’t live—” He couldn’t live without her.
Her arms latched around his neck, holding tight as the sobs became louder, as the shaking became worse.
“I have you. ” He bent over her, sheltering her, aware of Jethro moving closer, his hands touching her back, pressing her closer to Mac as he sheltered her from behind. She was surrounded. No one could touch her now. Nothing could touch her.