Page 50 of Under His Protection

Cole stares at me, his eyes burning with a fury that's far more terrifying than his earlier amusement. "You bitch," he snarls. "You'll pay for this."

Distracted by the chaos, his men turn towards us, their guns raised. I look back at them, then to Cole again. But it's too late. A new sound cuts through the air, sharp and final: the crack of a gunshot.

Chapter 18

The Gunshot

The gunshot rips through the warehouse, a feral growl echoing off the steel ribs of the place. My breath hitches, a jagged shard of ice lodging itself in my chest.

Who had dared to pull a trigger?

My head snaps around, a frantic searchlight sweeping the scene. Cole’s men, a pack of snarling wolves, stand frozen, their faces masks of startled confusion. Some of the girls huddle together, their eyes wide open. My gaze lands on Alexander. He’s a statue, a marble figure. The crowbar, his weapon, clatters to the floor, a metallic groan amidst the silence that follows the gunshot.

A bloody blossom bursts on his hip, a crimson bloom spreading like wildfire across his white shirt.

“No!” Michelle’s scream tears through the air, a raw, primal cry that scrapes against my sanity. She’s a whirlwind of terror, a frantic blur of limbs as she throws herself towards Alexander, her eyes locked on his collapsing form.

My scream dies in my throat like a strangled gasp. They've shot him. They've shot him. Time shatters, the warehouse dissolving into a swirling vortex of noise and motion. I spot Cole, his face twisted in a triumphant smirk, another small black gun still smoking in his hand. He's a predator, savoring his kill, the scent of blood a sweet victory in his nostrils. He had another gun hidden on him, and I missed it.

Michelle’s face is a mask of agony as she reaches Alexander, her broken wrist forgotten. I look at Any and Zara standing near me, their expressions shifting from hope to terror, their hard-won freedom slipping away like sand through their fingers.

My eyes then lock on Alexander. His body crashes to the floor, a deep red stain spreading on the concrete.

"Alexander!" I finally scream, a raw howl of pain tearing from my lungs. The shock of the gunshot, the realization of what has happened, crashes over me.

I throw the gun at Zara, "Don't let him out of your sight."

She nods, her eyes blazing with a deep fire. She quickly aims the gun at Cole, the movement fluid, practiced. It's not her first time with a weapon. But I can't linger on that now. The world is spinning, my mind racing, trying to make sense of the situation.

I push through the stunned faces of Cole’s men, ignoring the guns pointed at me. Nothing matters except reaching him, holding him, trying to stem the tide of blood that’s draining the life from his eyes. The need to reach Alexander fuels every muscle in my body.

I kneel beside him, my hands trembling as I press them against his chest. His blood, warm and sticky, coats my fingers.

“Alexander,” I whisper, my voice choked with tears. “Hey, I’m here? Stay with me. Please, stay with me.”

His eyes flutter open, meeting mine, a flicker of life in the dying embers. “Ava,” he breathes, his voice a ragged whisper. “You—”

“Ssshhh—don’t talk.” My tears are falling onto his face, leaving wet trails. “Just—just stay with me.”

He coughs, a weak, rattling sound. Blood trickles from the corner of his mouth. “It’s—- it’s okay, Ava,” he whispers.

“No,” I sob, my heart shattering. “Don’t—don’t leave me. Please.”

He reaches for my hand, his touch weak, but his grip surprisingly strong. “I love you, Ava.” His voice is fading. “Always.”

And then, his eyes lose their focus, his hand goes limp—

I stare at his lifeless face, a scream building in my chest, but it never comes out. The warehouse fades around me, the sounds of chaos muted and distant. All I feel is the crushing weight the size of a boulder where my heart is, an unbearable emptiness.

Blindly, I scramble to my feet, picking up a gun from the floor, and point it at Cole.

“I’ll fucking kill you!” I scream. “Get Katerina! Or I’ll blow your brains out.”

Cole, still reeling from the shock of Alexander’s limp body, stares at me. He glances at the gun, then at the second gun, Zara is pointing at him. His eyes widen as he registers the deadly intent in my gaze.

“You—- you wouldn’t,” he stammers from the floor.

“Don’t test me, Cole!” I snarl, my finger tightening on the trigger. “Get her! Now!”

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