Page 59 of Marked By His Touch

I nod in silent agreement. Harvey, with his team of agents, sounds like a mighty good plan right now. But the path ahead is fraught with Nikolai’s men.

As we round a corner, I see two burly men. Their suits are dark, and their faces hardened. They stand blocking our path, their guns drawn, their gazes fixed on us with a dark gleam.They’re waiting for us. They’re not going to let us get away.

“Alexander, we need to move!” I say. My voice is barely breathing as I point in another direction.

He nods, his eyes flashing with a primal intensity. He pulls me close, using his body as a shield against the incoming bullets.

“Run!” he shouts, his voice a roar, pushing me ahead of him in the direction I pointed out.

I take off sprinting. He’s close behind; I can feel it. The blood rushes in my ears, the sound of gunfire a deafening roar. The men open fire, their shots echoing through the wooden corridors.

We weave through new hallways, dodging bullets, the walls reverberating with the sound of gunfire.

“Go, Ava, I’ll hold them off,” Alexander shouts.

But I don’t go. I’m done running.I’ve done being weak.Instead, I stay with him, my body moving on instinct, fueled by adrenaline.

“Give me a gun!” I cry out.

Hesitating momentarily, he rips one from his ankle holster and tosses it to me.

“I know how to shoot,” I tell him, making sure the gun is loaded, my fingers finding the safety release. Come on, Ava.

I fire two shots in the direction of the men. I think I hit one of them, but they’re still approaching us. Shit. This isn’t enough.

“Ava—” Alexander starts.

I shoot again, seeing the big bald guy coming straight for me.He’s close. Too close.

I move back, but it’s too late. He raises his gun, and I try to dodge, but I’m not fast enough.

A searing pain rips through my shoulder, a jolt of agony that makes me stumble. I cry out, the sound lost in the chaos of gunfire. It’s a strange feeling of burning pain and numb coldness.

My shoulder feels wet.Damn it, Ava, move.But my body doesn’t respond to my commands. I’m losing strength, and it’s like I’m fading.

Alexander stops, his eyes widening, his gaze fixed on me. He looks back at the two men. His expression hardens, his eyes burning with a cold, fierce anger.

“Easy there. You’re okay,” he says, his voice rough, his touch gentle as he pulls me close. He lays me down, still aiming his gun at the men, releasing another two shots.

“Please, please—- please, don’t leave me, Ava,” he says, his voice ragged.

Leave him? Why?

Only now do I understand. He’s talking to me. He’s worried about me. What’s wrong? I look down at my shoulder and see the blood dripping down a crimson river. It’s a lot of blood. I’m shot.

His words, raw and desperate, rip through me. I want to reassure him, to tell him I will be okay. But I don’t know that. I look down at my shoulder again, my hand instinctively reaching for the wound. The fabric of my dress is soaked with blood. Crimson on crimson.

“We–we have to keep m-moving,” I pant, the pain radiating through me.

“Can you cover me?” he asks. “Are you strong enough?”

"Y-yes," I whisper.

He thrusts the gun into my good arm. I nod, firing a shot to keep the men at bay. Our bullets are running out. His expression darkens as he pulls a thin, black cord from his pocket and ties it tightly around my shoulder, creating a tourniquet. The pressure is searing, like a brand against my skin.

“Now, you stay here.” He turns, grabbing the gun from my hand, his eyes burning with a fierce rage as he lunges at the man who shot me.

With one hand, he fires a shot at the other man, who immediately slumps to the floor, the bullet going straight between his eyes. The other guy shoots, but Alexander avoids the bullet, and then Alexander is out of bullets.But so is the other guy, if I counted right.

---