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Her brown eyes are unnaturally wide and full of fear and panic. I don’t think either of us even blink as we stare at each other for a long moment, and then I realize that I’m still pointing my gun at her, most likely freaking her out more.
Shit. I lower my gun and stick it into the waistband of my jeans, trying to make myself the least threatening person I can. Grace is still standing in the center of the alley as if she is frozen in time, her face painted in horror. That is, until I take a step toward her. Her wild eyes find mine and she twists her body. She tries to turn around and run away from me, but she loses her footing and slips in the puddle of blood that has formed around Marco’s head.
She lands harshly on her side, thankfully the uninjured one. I suck in a panicked breath, my wound burning with the movement, reminding me of the stupid bullet embedded beneath my skin. None of the pain I’m feeling right now matters, not with a fearful Grace in front of me.
“Grace…” I call out to her, closing the distance between us with two long strides. I crouch down next to her and go to pull her into my arms when she whimpers.
“D-Don’t touch me!” She scoots backward dragging her body through the blood. Fuck, she would rather be next to dead Marco than the man who loves her. I grit my teeth and try and shut down my emotions. All that matters right now is getting myself and Grace out of here before someone comes upon this mess.
“Grace, you’re going to be fine. Let’s just go home and clean you up.” I try to keep my voice calm, but it doesn’t seem to help. She looks terrified.
“Gracie…” I call out to her again, trying to reach her through the fear plaguing her mind, but she’s too far gone. My head snaps back when I hear the sound of feet crunching against the concrete behind me. My gaze collides with another man’s, and I position myself between Grace and the guy standing at the corner. Fuck. This job is all kinds of fucked up, then again, I expected Grace to stay in the car instead of making her grand appearance in the midst of me killing.
I stand up and run toward him, but he is fast, and I’m injured. By the time I get to the corner, he is already in his car and driving off. I twist around on my heels and head back toward Grace. She hasn’t moved an inch, and when I grab onto her and pull her into my arms she flinches as if I’m going to hit her or something.
“Please don’t hurt me…please don’t hurt me…” She recites over and over again, her eyes vacant and her voice weak.
Fuck me. This has gone from bad to fucking worse.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” I whisper into her hair, but her body continues to shake, “I won’t hurt you, not ever.” Her small hands grip on to my T-shirt. She’s covered in blood, and I need to get her back to the house before her shock turns into a full-blown panic attack. I also need to get this stupid fucking bullet out of my side.
“We need to go, baby,” I wince, sucking a breath into my lungs. Grace isn’t responding though, so I have no choice but to bend and take her into my arms and pick her up, holding her close to my chest. My muscles burn, my side screaming at me to put her down with each step, but I’ll die from this bullet wound before I allow her to stay in that alleyway a second longer.
I fucked up tonight. So fucking much. I let a man get away. I put a target on my back…on Grace’s back. I put her in danger when I promised I never would.
Christ. I hold her small form tighter to my chest, as anger toward myself, and toward her for not staying in the fucking car swirls deep inside me. I don’t want to put her in fucking danger, but that’s exactly what I did today.
When I reach the car, I deposit her into the passenger seat and get into the driver’s seat. My entire body is begging me to give into exhaustion to give into the pain burning through my abdomen, but I can’t, at least not until I get us back to the cottage safely.
I gaze over at Grace one last time, noting that she is still very much lost inside her head, her body is shaking, her lips quivering, fear like I’ve only seen once before reflecting in her eyes.
“It’s going to be okay…everything is going to be okay,” I whisper starting the car, and heading back toward the cottage.
