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Pressing a hand to nose and mouth, I stumbled blindly after him as smoke swirled around our legs, quickly rising to fill the room.
A strange sense of heaviness filled me. I wanted to sleep. To lay down for a little nap and…
A sharp sting cut through my cheek, and my eyes snapped open.
“Don’t you dare black out,” Marc hissed. “I can’t fucking carry you like this.”
I nodded dumbly, trying to wrap my mind around what was happening. Why would he want to carry me? Why couldn’t I sleep?
“Hey.” He shook me, and I blinked up at him.
“Did—did you slap me?”
Guilt flashed over his face. “I’ll apologize for that later.” He grabbed my hand, forcing me to run after him, away from the room and down the hall. “I need to get you someplace safe.”
A man stepped into our path, appearing from around a bend. Marc stopped dead, and I slammed into him from behind.
The dark figure laughed. “You’re like a fucking cockroach.”
Was this it? Did Mr. X send someone to bring me back? After everything I did to get away. After risking my life, and Marc’s… I grabbed Marc’s hand tighter, torn between hiding behind his back as he insisted or stepping right up to stand by his side.
The man was tall and lanky, dressed in black from head to toe. Even his face was covered with a mask. The dark highlighted his eyes, two sharp gray-blue orbs fixed on me.
“Who are you?” My voice was small.
He took a step closer, lifting a hand to reveal a gun clutched in his grip. Instead of answering me, he focused on Marc. “Let’s see if you can survive a bullet to the brain.”
No! I flew forward, ripping my hand from Marc’s grip as he tried to pull me back. I was too short, reaching barely to his chin, but I’d protect him with my life.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” the man sneered, waving the weapon at me in a dismissive manner that made my blood boil.
“Kaylie,” Marc hissed. “Step the fuck back.”
“No.” I stood my ground. If he wanted to shoot someone, this time it’d be me. Marc suffered enough because of me. I couldn’t let him take one more hit. This time, it would kill him. And I couldn’t lose him.
“Playing the hero, or should I sayheroine, doesn’t suit you, girl,” the man taunted. “Now shove off and let me shoot your bodyguard.”
The way he said it, as if he was talking about his next meal, and not assassinating someone, made bile rise in my throat. “You’re not getting away with this,” I tried. “Dom and Izzy—”
His cruel laugh cut me off. He shook his head. “They are busy dying.” A twisted grin spread over his lips as my mouth dropped open. He was bluffing. He had to be. There was no way he could have…
Marc tensed behind me, and I tried not to cry as I imagined Izzy bleeding out somewhere on that hard stone floor. Did he tell the truth? Was this nothing but a diversion, while he had someone slaughter everyone downstairs? And for what? Power? Revenge?
“What do you want?” Marc growled.
“Her,” he said matter-of-factly. Then added, “And you, dead.” He cocked the gun, making me flinch at the sound. My eyes were on the barrel. Breath hitched in my throat as his finger twitched on the trigger.
Before I could scream, I was thrown to the floor and nailed to it by the weight of Marc’s body. The sound as the shot fired into the air made me scream. Or try. No air came. Not until he rolled off me, and a heavy thud made me scramble to catch my breath and gather my legs. My eyes darted to the man. He was on the floor, too. On his back. And it took a moment to understand what happened.
My eyes shot to Marc. He was still on the floor. A pained look on his face as he pushed to sit. So did the shooter. I screamed as he raised the gun. Marc was faster, lunging at him and grabbing his arm. He twisted the gun from his grip and collapsed with a shout that made tears form in my eyes. Would this never end? How many times did he have to get hurt to protect me? If I let them take me, this would be over.
I struggled to my feet. My eyes darted between the man in black and Marc as I stood trembling, trying to decide what to do.
“Get away from him!” Marc hissed. “Kaylie, move!” He struggled to his feet, not bothering to hide the curses.
Then he turned the gun on me, and I gasped, blinking at him in stunned shock.
“Get out of here,” he shouted. “Run!”
