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Marco’s body threw itself on mine, shielding me as glass rained down on us. “What’s happening?” I yelled.
“Someone’s shooting at us.” Marco’s hands went around my ears, but I could hear the sound of bullets hitting the space around us.
Tears sprang to my eyes. We were going to die. Someone was shooting at us, and the only thing protecting us was a wooden table and Marco’s body.
Then, just as quickly as it started. The shooting stopped, and it was like time went into overdrive. The sounds of people’s voices reached my ears. There was screaming and shouting, and I was sure that I heard people crying.
“Ivy!” Marco had moved off of me, and now, he was shaking me slightly, trying to get my attention. “Are you hurt?” His eyes looked me up and down, searching for any signs of injury.
I raised a hand to my hair. Glass shards were embedded in my curls, and I hissed as a few sliced into my skin.
Marco grabbed my fingers. “Easy,” he warned. “You're covered in glass.”
“Someone tried to kill us,” I breathed out.
I looked around. The restaurant was in shambles. Marco had booked a private room for us, luckily, considering that the entire room had been shot to hell. “Ivy!” Marco yelled. He shook me harder. “Are you okay?” The concern in his eyes was touching.
“I’m fine,” I said. Physically, I was pretty sure I was uninjured. Marco had gotten me out of harm's way quickly enough to save my life. Emotionally, I was wrecked. My chair had exploded from the many bullets that had ripped through it.
Marco noticed me looking at the chair, and he grabbed my chin. It wasn’t as gentle or romantic as it had been when he’d done it just a few minutes ago. “Focus on me,” he ordered. “Everything is going to be alright.”
I shook my head. “Someone tried to kill me.” My heart was slamming into my chest as the realization hit me, especially because I knew that Marco hadn’t done it. He was the only person I could think of who would want me dead.
He pulled me to my feet. I was wearing a pair of heels that Sasha convinced me to buy, and I nearly toppled over in them as my knees shook in fear. What made it all worse was the look of fear on Marco’s face.
The most dangerous man I knew was scared.
He grabbed me, pulling me into his arms. I could smell the sage and sandalwood on his skin, and for some reason, the smell of it comforted me. “It’s going to be okay,” he told me. “I’m going to protect you.”
Marco repeated the words over and over again, but they brought me little comfort. He hadn’t seen the threat looking over us until it was nearly too late.
I wasn’t stupid enough to think that next time it not might be.
