Page 106 of Marked

Stars flashed in front of her eyes, and her vision spun. Her fingers grew limp, but the hard plastic still in her grip caught her attention. Jamming the blade forward, she let out a cry as the knife sunk into flesh.

The guy froze. His hazel eyes grew huge, and spit dangled from his teeth. Slowly, one of his hands dropped away from her neck, and he hung his head to stare at the knife in his abdomen.

“Sh-shit,” he wheezed.

Sophia’s skin went cold. Blood trickled from the man’s cheek, running in rivulets from his chin to drop on her wrist and arm. A deep crimson circle expanded quickly on his white T-shirt.

Her heart pounded. He could still react—scream, attack her. He probably had several minutes before he became too weak to do anything, and his shock would quickly dissipate.

His head snapped back up and his eyes bore into hers. “You’re going to die for that.” He wrapped both hands around her windpipe, squeezing.

Sophia gasped as the tendons in her neck rubbed together, painfully pinching off her air supply. Her nose burned with stagnant air and her lungs screamed for oxygen.

Sweat rolled down her attacker’s pasty-white cheeks, his color rapidly draining as his life poured from his wound. But she’d die before he did if she didn’t do something.

Gripping the blade, she yanked it to the side, tearing his flesh open further. He let out a sharp protest followed by a gurgling sound. His hands fell away and he slithered to the ground. The knife slipped from her fingers as he landed with a soft thud on the floor at her feet.

His unfocused eyes rolled around before locking on the ceiling. Still. Lifeless. The box cutter stuck out from his abdomen, the crimson circle now an angry oval across his midsection.

Ripping her back from the wall, she ran for the stairwell.

***

Cole brought his hand to the silencer at the end of his gun. Rubbing his fingers over the smooth metal calmed the storm inside him.

He had to keep his head on straight, not kill every bastard in the place... yet.

The door banged open and a man blazed into the room, making a beeline for the glass doors ahead.

Probably the dude—Nick—who was supposed to search outside for Sophia.

“Looking for someone?” Cole asked, as he stepped out from around the corner of the wall where he’d hidden.

Nick gasped and lifted his gun. Cole fired. The silencer stifled the blast, allowing only a soft whistle to escape. The bullet hit the guy in the shoulder, and he cried out and fell to his hands and knees. “Help!” His voice was weak. He grappled to get his footing.

Cole closed the distance between them and delivered a kick to Nick’s face. The dude’s head bounced and his hands slipped from under him, making him face-plant onto the floor.

Reaching down, Cole seized the guy by his hair. “Where’s Kenneth?” he demanded.

The guy grunted. Cole yanked harder, drawing Nick’s head back and into an awkward position, forcing the dude to stare at him. “Answer me,” he growled.

“Meeting,” Nick coughed.

“He’s here? Adrian?”

He blinked slowly, reluctantly. “Not yet.”

“How many men are in the building now?”

Nick grimaced. “Kenneth and A.J.” He gulped. “Tuck and Adam are looking for the woman, too. Adrian and his guys will be here soon. Not sure how many will be with him.”

Based on what Cole had overheard, Nick was telling the truth. “Where’s the meeting?”

Nick jerked his head, but Cole maintained his grip. Lifting his gun, he brought it to the wound on Nick’s shoulder and dug the muzzle into the bullet hole. Blood oozed out and Nick let loose a howl of pain.

“Tell me before I lay another one in there.”

“C-Conference room.” Nick swung his gaze toward the door he’d passed through moments before. “It’s the only room done. Big table. Food’s laid out. Can’t miss it.”

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