I wake up to what sounds like fireworks going off all around the house.

I groan and roll out of bed. Carson is gone, but that doesn’t surprise me. He slept all night with me, but he’s an early riser, and I’m sure he was letting me sleep in. But I don’t understand what this damn racket is.

I pull on a pair of pants and a sweater, and as I’m about to leave the room, Carson suddenly bursts inside.

I stumble back. His eyes are wide and he’s holding his axe in his right hand. “Kylie,” he says. “Get dressed. We have to go.”

Fear lances through me at the expression on his face. “What’s happening?” I ask.

“Dress,” he growls. “Warm. Hurry.”

He pushes me gently toward my bureau and I do as he commands. He walks over to the windows and peers out of them as the fireworks continue to go off.

I stand there for a moment, listening to the noise outside. Instantly and all at once, I realize that I’m not listening to fireworks. They’re going on too long and are way too consistently to be fireworks.

It’s gunfire. I pause and stare at Carson for a second, shocked.

“Carson, what’s happening?” I ask him. “Are those gunshots?”

He nods grimly. “My brother,” he says.

“What?” I can hardly understand it.

He walks over to me and leans the axe up against the wall. He puts his hands on my shoulders and looks into my eyes.

“Listen to me, Kylie. We’re going to survive this. I won’t let anything happen to you. Okay?”

I nod, terrified. “Okay,” I say.

“Trust me. Please trust me. Because I fell in love with you, and now I won’t let you go.

“I love you too,” I whisper.

He kisses me hard and deep, hands wrapped in my hair, and I press myself against him. I feel desperate and afraid but elated. Through the fear, I feel something else, something even stronger. I didn’t know I could feel this way, but it’s there. It’s love, and it’s going to get me through this.

I know I’ll get through it. Carson will keep me safe.

The kiss breaks off and he grabs his axe again, resuming his place near the window. I finish dressing, boots and everything. “Come on,” he says. We head back into the main house when suddenly the huge glass window is shattered.

Carson shoves me to the ground and falls on top of me. The kitchen is torn apart by bullets, smashing through the shelves and the appliances. When it stops, he pulls me to my feet.

“Garage!” he yells.

I run with him right on my heels. I reach the garage door and throw it open.

Standing there, with a wicked grin on his face, is Declan. He’s Elliot’s right-hand man. I remember him from that night he harassed us out in the street. He’s bleeding from a wound on his forehead as he slowly raises his gun.

“There you are, pretty girl,” he says.

Carson yanks my sweater from behind, throwing me to the side, and he charges out. Declan curses, but it’s too late. Carson brings the axe down in a fast, deadly arc, slamming it into his chest.

Declan screams and fires his gun, but it goes off wildly. Carson kicks him in the gut, sending him to the ground, and grabs the axe. He tears it out of Declan’s body.

I stare at them, horrified. There’s so much blood, way more than I thought there’d be. Carson grabs my arm and pulls me along. We stumble through the blood, and I can’t stop staring at the axe.

The garage door is open, and outside men are fighting. I can see Nick and a few of his guys hiding out behind an overturned jeep, firing off into the woods, as several men try to get around them. I guess Declan made a dash for the garage and just barely made it, based on the way he looked.

Carson yells something, but I can’t hear a thing. The gunfire is deafening. He grabs me and drags me to the truck, throwing the door open and shoving me inside. I can barely move, like a lump, but I manage to get into the seat and strap myself in.

Carson gets into the other seat and tosses the axe into the back. He starts the engine.

“Hold on,” he says.

“What about them?” I ask.

He looks at me grimly. “This is how it has to be.”

“Carson—“

“No,” he says. “Don’t fight me. If we stay, we’ll die. If we survive, we can still fight. Do you understand? Nick wants this.”

I stare at him for a second and I can see the pain on his face clearly. I know that he’ll stay if I ask him to. He wants to stay, doesn’t want to run away and leave these men, but I know it’s the right thing to do. I have to be strong for him.

“Go,” I say softly.

He nods once, closes his eyes, and then he opens them again.

He guns the truck, throwing us in reverse. We fly out into the driveway, through the gun battle. I get down as bullets hit the vehicle, but Carson doesn’t stop. Once we’re past the main fight, he sits back up and looks out the broken back window as he drives in reverse.

Once we’re far enough away, he swings the truck around, and we drive straight out to the main road.

We drive as fast as possible toward Juneau, but nobody is following. Or if they are, we can’t see them. We head toward town, but before we get down to the main part of the city, Carson breaks off and heads to an outer suburb.

“Where are we going?” I ask him, finally breaking the silence.

“The one place I know they won’t follow,” he says.

I frown, watching him. “Where?”

He looks grim, so grim that I can barely believe it. “My father’s house,” he says, and he presses down on the accelerator.