Page 10 of Marked By His Touch

The Disturbing Encounter

Alexander emergesfrom Sarah’s apartment building, a frown etched across his face, like a storm cloud gathering above the city. He slams the car door shut behind him, the sound reverberating in the quiet street.

“The door was locked. The place looked untouched. I rang the bell a million times, knocked like a madman, but she didn’t answer.”

My heart drops, a sickening feeling that I’m caught in the crosshairs of a nightmare. That brief glimmer of hope, the thought of Sarah opening the door, her infectious smile meeting mine and Alexander, now feels like a cruel joke.

Why am I so naive? I know Cole has her.

A cold dread seeps into my bones. I squeeze Alexander’s hand, needing his strength, needing a lifeline in the storm.

“We’ll find her,” he says, but the words feel like a prayer to a silent sky. “But we need to be careful.”

We drive on, the silence between us thicker than the haze of exhaust fumes clinging to the air. Every muscle in my body is tense, every sense on high alert.

Alexander’s eyes, like a dark storm brewing beneath a calm surface, watch me. But even he seems to sense the shift in the air, a subtle shift that makes the hairs on my neck prickle.

Then, it appears—a sleek black Mercedes, its windows like dark, unblinking eyes. My heart stumbles. It’s not a question of “what’s that,” it’s a visceral certainty: Something is about to change.

Alexander barely glances at me, focusing on the road ahead, “We’ve got company,” His voice is a rumble of thunder, a warning that the storm is about to break.

The passenger, a man with dark hair and a tattoo that coil down his neck like a serpent, turns towards us, his eyes meeting mine. For a moment, our gazes locks, and I feel a shiver of apprehension.

The next moment is a blur of motion and sound. Alexander slams the steering wheel, the tires screaming in protest as the car shrieks around a corner. I’m thrown against the door, my body sliding across the seat, a ragdoll in the hands of a reckless driver. The city of concrete and steel, suddenly feels like a claustrophobic cage, the walls closing in on us.

“Hold on, Ava,” he shouts.

He throws the car into a narrow side street, a rabbit hole leading into a labyrinth of alleys and deserted parking lots. I grip the seat, my eyes darting back.

The Mercedes hesitates, caught between the crumbling buildings. For a moment, it seems to be considering its next move, like a predator poised to strike. Then it drives away, leaving my jaw dropped on the ground. Then, with a guttural roar, it bursts forward, leaving me staring after it, jaw slack with disbelief.

“That was—” I trail off, glancing back, my heart pounding. “Strange?”

Alexander nods, but the tension in his shoulders doesn’t ease. He throws open the driver’s door, his eyes scanning the street. “Get out.”

I hesitate for a moment, then slide out of the car. He tosses his phone into a pile of garbage, another casualty in their game of secrecy. It’s his third phone this week.

“They know where we are,” he growls. “We’ll walk from here.”

I don’t argue. He’s right.They’re watching us.And this deserted alley feels like a trap.

We step out of the alley and into the city’s heartbeat—a thrum of honking horns and shouting vendors from Port Haven’s annual fall market.I had forgotten about that.We’re swallowed by the city’s pulse, and the crowded streets actually provide a layer of protection.

The market’s a blur of smells and sounds, but all I can think about is getting to Sarah. For a moment, I imagine strolling through here with Alexander, hand-in-hand, buying pumpkin spice lattes and hand-knitted wool blankets. But that’s a fantasy, a luxury we can’t afford.

I force myself to snap out of it. This is no time for daydreams. We’re not tourists here. I have to think likethem, like criminals, or else I’ll end up just another mark.Every face is a stranger, and every glance is a potential threat, Ava.

The crowd thins out as we approach the waterfront, exposing me like a raw nerve in the middle of a hurricane.

“I need a new phone,” Alexander grunts, scanning the street.

My eyes dart along the street, searching for a store. They land at the small bakery by the water, its aroma of freshly baked bread a welcome scent.The Daily Rise.I’ve missed this place. More than I’m willing to admit, I’ve missed Port Haven.

“You can get a phone at the grocery store next door to the Daily Rise,” I point. “I’ll keep an eye out.”

Alexander nods and heads inside.

My gaze falls on a brightly colored beauty shop, its pink and purple banners screaming against the drab city backdrop. It’s right next to Ms. Pennyfeather’s flower shop.Is it new?I haven’t seen it before. New shops rarely appear in Port Haven.

---