"And leave myself with nothing? You must take me for a fool."

A soft disapproving cluck of the tongue escapes him at Tom's insistence on remaining too close, close enough that he can't possibly aim the barrel at him, there simply isn't enough space. The back of his heel hits a stair and he finds himself climbing up one, then two, moving quicker as he tries to wedge the gun between them. It's difficult to do so efficiently backwards, but adrenaline pumping through his veins has him trusting in his step more often than not.