We might still be legally married, but our marriage has always been more than a simple piece of paper. It started, and ended, with the Christmas he proposed. Now, whatever we’ve turned into, the way we twisted ourselves in order to be together after that fateful holiday…it’s come to its final conclusion, and I’m the one that pulled the trigger.
“You’re stronger than he’s ever allowed you to believe,” Marcus says. “You are an amazing Boss, a wonderful father and grandfather, and someone I am proud to call family. No matter what, you’re not alone, but even if you were, you can stand on your own two feet. You’ve more than shown that.”
I give his hand a squeeze. “Thank you.”
I don’t believe a damn word, and the look on his face says he knows it, but before more can be said, the world explodes in a shower of breaking glass, metal crunching, and gunfire.
Marcus is quick to release my hand, undo his seatbelt, and pull out his gun. He gives me a quick once over, making sureI’m fine, before throwing open his door. “Stay there,” he orders, before leaving the vehicle.
Fuck that. I might be a mess emotionally, but at my heart, I am still a bodyguard, and Boss or not, I will never stay behind unless I have to.
It’s clear we’re outgunned. Thanks to Tennant’s careful planning, he managed to separate us, not only into three cars, but he gave us three different routes to take. Considering we still don’t know who is after us, it was a sensible plan, and one that paid off for the other two cars, it seems—I refuse to think of a scenario in which they managed to find all three routes and ambush us all.
The secondary car with two more cars is quickly taken over, the men falling to the ground as they’re gunned down. My own weapon is heavy in my hands as I aim and fire, ignoring Marcus cursing at me as he moves back to cover me.
For the first time, I realize this is how Roman must feel, being put above those he cares about because his name and position holds more weight than anyone else. Even as Cristian’s husband, I was given more agency over my own safety, because of my background, than my son ever was. It’s a hard pill to swallow, knowing the man I’ve come to love will do everything to protect me.
“Fucking hell,” Marcus hisses. “You need to get to the other car and get out of here. Ours was hit, but aside from some bullets, that one seems to be intact.”
“I’m not leaving you.”
He spares me a glance, even as we both duck behind our car when another round is fired at us.
“I’ll cover you, but I’m quickly running out of ammunition, and backup is fuck knows how far out.”
“I can’t leave you.”
“And I can’t let you die!”
My heart clenches and a wave of nausea overtakes me at the thought of him dying in order to protect me. It’s wrong. All fucking wrong.Ido the protecting, not the other way around.
I shake my head. “Marcus…”
“Move now,” he orders when there’s a lull in the gunfire.
Grabbing me by the arm, angling us so he’s between me and our enemy, he herds me towards the bullet-riddled car that our men died in front of.
We almost make it.
Marcus and I are both firing shots at our adversaries, the still running car just feet away, when instinct has me shoving Marcus away from me. I angle my body to shield his, taking God knows how many bullets as I’m fired upon.
The gunshots close to my head suggests my friend has taken out the shooter, and most likely their friends as well. At least, that’s what my pain-addled brain and dimming vision tells me as I lay on my back on blood-soaked asphalt. Otherwise, he wouldn’t dare to kneel beside me, so exposed to the world.
“Fucking hell, Carter,” he whisper, pulling at my suit jacket, making my body jerk. Though I don’t feel any pain, my senses are hazy.
“I…”
“Don’t talk,” he orders.
I’m distantly aware of pressure being applied to my chest and abdomen, but all I can do is stare up at Marcus’s worried face, and wonder why dying takes so fucking long.
“I love you…” I manage to say, or I think I do. “K—Keegan, too. Roman… C—Cole… Tell…”
“Tell them yourself, you fucking asshole.”
An aching, wheezy laugh is the only sound I can make, as my eyelids finally get too heavy to keep open, and everything fades away…
Istare at my former best friend. He’s shattered. Finally. Yet, I can’t take any joy in it. Despite being broken, he’s so damn beautiful that it hurts. He was my first love…my tormenter…and now it’s come full circle to where I’m the one holding his life in my hands.
