Page 93 of Filthy Dirty Dom

Alex's arm slipped protectively around Leslie as they surveyed the aftermath of the storm. His touch was a comforting presence against the chilled air. "Come on, let's get you into the house before it starts up again," he suggested, his voice a soft rumble in her ear.

They hadn’t gotten more than ten feet, however, before a figure stumbled into view.

It was Nico.

He lurched toward them, his face contorted in pain. His clothes, usually meticulously put together, were torn and soaked with blood. He clutched his side, a stark red staining his hand, a grim indication of a wound hidden from their sight.

"Alex," he gasped, struggling to stay on his feet. "I need... help..."

With that, Nico's legs gave out, and he collapsed, his body convulsing in pain.

“No!” Alex rushed to his side. Leslie stood frozen, her hand flying to her mouth when Alex gently lifted Nico’s hand and pulled aside his shirt. The wound was a gruesome sight of torn flesh and a deep, bloody gash. It looked like he’d been stabbed, and Nico's blood was rapidly soaking into the ground beneath him, creating a dark pool that expanded with each passing second. Alex quickly removed his own shirt, pressing it to the wound in a futile attempt to stem the flow of blood.

Nausea rose in Leslie’s throat at the sight, but she forced it down, swallowing hard. The brutality of the wound and the pained grunts from Nico made her insides twist with a sense of urgency and dread.

She fell to her knees beside Alex and took Nico’s hand. Nico’s face was covered with sweat. His eyes were dimmed with pain even as they started to close.

“Tell me how I can help.”

But when Alex looked at her, she saw the helplessness in his eyes. She also saw raw fear, and she knew the fear wasn’t just for Nico, but for her, as well.

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Alex’s mind whirled at an alarming speed, struggling to process the scene unfolding in front of him. Nico’s wound was fatal. The young man, Mia’s brother, was meeting the same fate that she had.

A bloody death.

But he did his best to comfort Nico, saying, “You’re going to be okay, Nico. Just hold on.”

Nico shook his head. “Danger. I’m... sorry,” he muttered, his face still contorted in pain. The words hung in the air, thick and oppressive.

“What are you sorry for? Who did this to you?”

Nico struggled to speak then managed to croak out, “There's... boat... you must... leave.” He choked out directions.

Alex's mind was in turmoil, his thoughts a jumbled mess. "Did you tell anyone we were here?" he questioned urgently, the knot in his stomach tightening.

Nico's nod was slow, almost imperceptible. “I didn’t... know…” he gasped out, his breath hitching. The regret was clear in his eyes as he stared up at Alex, an apology that he didn't get a chance to voice.

Abruptly, Nico's chest stopped moving. His eyes glazed over. His final breath was a sigh, a soft sound that was barely heard over the deafening silence that engulfed them. His body was still warm, but the spark that was Nico, the vibrancy, the youth, was gone.

A profound sadness washed over him, seeping into his bones and weighing him down. But he couldn’t become mired in it. Danger was imminent, creeping closer with every passing moment.

What about the others? Renee? Rosa? The girls?

Alex tamped down his grief and panic with an iron will, the discipline of years of training making it possible. He could not afford to lose control now, not when lives were on the line.

His resolve solidified, his jaw tightening in a grim determination.

He turned to Leslie, her cheeks wet with tears, her lips trembling. She was huddled in on herself as if she was trying to hold herself together. Her eyes were wide, full of shock and despair. She looked so vulnerable, so out of place in this brutal reality.

"Leslie." Alex's voice was soft but steady. He released Nico, moving toward her, his hands cupping her face gently. It was then that he realized his hands were bloody, blood that now stained Leslie’s face. Still, he brushed away her tears with his thumbs, trying to offer some measure of comfort in their dire situation.

"Nico…” Her voice was barely above a whisper, choked with tears.

"I know," Alex replied, his voice heavy. "I know, Leslie. But we don't have time to grieve. We have to go. Can you hold on? Can you be strong for me?" His eyes never left hers, pleading with her to find the strength she would need to face what was coming.

He had to go back and check on the others, but first he had to get Leslie to safety.

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