18. Lauren
18
Lauren
Holy shit. Marcus!
Bullets bounce around the room, some hitting a short distance away from me. I whimper, curling into a ball as a quivering hand flies over my mouth. If Marcus dies because of me—
The explosions suddenly stop, and I hear a choking sound. Panic threatens to cut off my breathing as I slowly raise up and peer over the machine, almost collapsing with relief when I see Marcus alive and well, his thick arm wrapped around the thug’s neck, the other hand gripping his head.
“Down, you fucking bastard,” he rasps, squeezing tighter.
The thug’s body soon goes limp, but Marcus keeps him in that headlock for about another minute before letting go. I move from around the machine and dash to Marcus, throwing my arms around his wet body. “Oh, my God. I heard the bullets and thought—”
“That was me trying to disarm him,” he explains, gently easing me off. I start searching his body for injuries, anyway.
“Lauren, I’m fine,” he mutters when I feel around his stomach. “Call Gabriel. ”
“Shouldn’t we be calling the cops?” I point out, dipping into his jacket pocket.
“No,” he replies sharply. “We can’t get the cops involved until we’re certain.”
“Certain about what?”
Marcus kicks the gun, and it slides away from the thug’s unconscious body. “Make the call, Lauren.”
I dial Gabriel’s number and put it on speaker. The line opens after the first ring and Zyon answers, her sarcastic greeting immediately cut by Marcus’ urgent request for Gabriel. Within seconds, his voice comes on the line.
“Do you think this is about my dad?” Gabriel asks when Marcus is done relaying what just happened.
“I’m not sure, which is why I wanted to talk to you before calling the cops,” he replies.
Gabriel hums. “It makes no sense, though. Why would his enemy show up to my apartment, guns blazing? Especially after all this time?”
“I don’t know…” Marcus stares at the ceiling, chewing on his lower lip like he always does whenever he’s contemplating. He suddenly stops and sucks in a loud gasp. For some reason, a chill runs up my spine.
“Gabriel.” I don’t like how he’s looking at me, like I have a terminal illness or something.
“What is it?”
“You’re not going to like this, but I think they came for Lauren.”
My heart drops to the bottom of my stomach.
“Which means they saw her, dude.”
“Jesus Christ,” Gabriel breathes.
Fear locks my throat as I stare at the gunman lying on the floor. If Marcus hadn’t come to the house today—
“Oh, my God,” I gasp, hugging myself. “Someone’s trying to kill me. ”
“That’s it. I’m coming home,” Gabriel announces.
“Yeah, I think you should.” Marcus’ voice is laced with concern. “Call your dad, Gabriel. I’ll call mine.”
“Someone’s trying to kill me,” I whisper again, sinking to my knees.
“And they won’t succeed,” Marcus says firmly, pulling me up. “Gabriel, I’m getting her out of here. There’s no telling if there are others on the way. I’ll have Dad pull a few strings so we can file a report remotely. I’m taking her to you-know-where—”
My loud scream echoes as a dark figure appears in the doorway. Marcus dips into the waist of his pants then pauses.
Joe staggers inside, his complexion slightly pale, his hand clutching his hip. “Thank fuck,” he mutters, glaring down at the gunman.
“Thank fuck indeed. I swore he took you out,” Marcus says.
“It’s going to take more than stomach bullets, trust me.” As he comes closer, he gently pats his middle, and I hear a hollow sound. “Especially when I’m wearing a vest. Although I did get a run-through on the hip.”
“I’m so sorry,” I reply, looking from him to Marcus. “Both of you. I don’t know what I’d do if any of you died because of me.”
“We’re doing our jobs, Lauren.”
While I fight to hold back the tears—and lose miserably—the three men discuss next steps. Joe will wait for the cops then get medical attention. Marcus will take me to his cabin in the mountains while having his dad arrange for them to take our statements. Gabriel has the hardest job of all: to tell our family the terrible news.
There are criminals after me.