"Nice and slow." Gerald was assisting Connor up the stairs while Paige took up the rear. He held Connor's arm over his shoulder while carefully avoiding the wound. Connor's labored and painful breathing made Paige wince and it only ceased once they reached her room. Gerald maneuvered Connor onto the bed and waved Paige over.

"Help him undress, I will collect my things downstairs." Gerald slipped out of the room and took his time descending the wooden stairs. Alone in the room with him, Paige went over to the side of the bed he was sitting on and knelt down to remove his boots.

"I can do that myself." He stated somewhat harshly. She looked up at him and released his leg.

"Sorry." She apologized standing and moving to the other side of the room. She pretended to busy herself with her brush and mirror on her dresser as she listened to him struggle to remove his boot. When he gave a painful gasp, she was at his side instantly. He was bent double with his hand against his wound. Gerald came into the room carrying some medical supplies and joined Paige.

"Connor, I'm going to help you lay down.." Connor tried to move away but only succeeded in causing his injury to sting him further. Gerald indicated for Paige to swing Connor's legs onto the bed as he assisted him onto his back.

"Paige, I need more things from downstairs, I will be right back." Gerald left her alone again with Connor. She stood up and moved away from him, her feelings a little sore from his abrasiveness.

"Why are you helping me?" He asked, his voice callused and hard. He almost sounded like he thought she was going to benefit from the situation somehow.

"You helped me." She answered quickly and truthfully meeting his gaze. His eyes were intense and held no emotion and she was unable to win the staring contest. Her fingers found a fold in her dress and her eyes slid to where her hand absently rubbed the fabric. When she dared to look up, he was still staring at her, she nervously smiled and receded toward the dresser again. A woman's scream rose through the floor, pulling Paige to the door. A hand clasped over hers, stopping her from going any further. She looked at Connor who was suddenly next to her and tried to pull away from him.

"It might not be safe." He whispered as more screams erupted from downstairs. He stealthily slipped past her and she saw him peer down the stairs as he held his side.

"'ere the fuck is 'e?! We saw that bastard sneakin' off wit that little poppet 'o yours. Do you know what 'e did? Took out one of our boys 'e did." The intoxication of the speaker was clear through his heavy accent as was the terrified whimpering that played a steady undertone. An opera of broken glass, horror-filled screams, shouting, and something hitting the floor with a thud. Paige's fear pushed her forward but Connor's strong grip yanked her back. He slowly shook his head at her.

"Where are my weapons?" He asked in an eerily calm voice.

"In the sick room." She replied, barely able to articulate, so choking was her fright. He indicated she should stay where she was as he painfully made his way down the steps. She retreated to her room and crawled under her bed. Pressing her ear to floor she tried to listen what was transpiring on the first floor. The scrapping of metal on metal was hard to ignore as was the shouts of several men and the tormented cries of Molly and Elizabeth. A gunshot froze Paige and as did the unnatural silence that followed. Afraid to breath, Paige couldn't muster even the slightest boldness to move. She began to shake when a scraping on the wooden steps grew thunderous in the gagged house. Someone entered the room, but their heavy breathing gave them away before they even set foot on the topmost step.

"Paige?" Connor asked, his voice strained. Something hit the floor with a piercing clank and then the gradual sliding sound of fabric and a soft thump. She peeked from her hiding spot and saw Connor sitting on the floor, his back to the wall, he was splattered with blood.. Her concern winning over her fear tugged her from under the bed to his side. She nearly tripped over some kind of ax on the floor and averted her gaze when she saw the red dripping from its blade. Connor was sweating and she could tell from his heaving chest and periodic wincing that he was in pain.

"It is not mine….the blood…" He answered when she reached for the wound on his side to see if it had been reopened again.

"What…happened…?" She asked, her voice quivering. She knew though, the silence was proof enough.

"I am…sorry…men came for me…I killed them, but I was not fast enough to save them…" He meant Molly, Gerald, and Elizabeth. They were dead. Dead. She stood up and walked over to the window and stared out at the street below. The people were going about their lives as if the tragedy that had been performed in the house did not happen. They were not part of the audience, but they would hear of the reviews, they would know. She touched the window pane lightly with her fingertips, it had been warmed by the sun but felt like a hot plate compared to her blood drained hand. She held her hand up and watched in a stunned silence as it shook violently as though someone was trying to rip it from her wrist.

"Paige…we cannot stay here. Do you have a carriage? A horse?" Connor asked his voice cracking as he stood and walked over to her. She nodded still staring at her hand.

"A carriage…two horses…in the back…"