Page 12 of My Prince

“Is that so?” Fade began, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

Suddenly, loud gunshots rang out, shattering the moment. Glass exploded around us, and screams filled the air. My heart pounded in my chest as Fade dove across the table, dragging me to the ground with him.

A scream escaped my lips as a sharp pain stabbed my side. The shots continued, each one like a hammer blow to my senses, until finally, silence fell, broken only by the terrified cries of people around us.

“Stay down,” Fade grunted, his voice tense. He peered through the shattered window above us, and I saw his face turn to stone.

“What is it?” I asked, my voice trembling.

Fade didn’t answer. His jaw clenched, and his eyes burned with a fury I had never seen before.

Around us, the donut shop was in chaos. Tables and chairs were overturned, shards of glass littered the floor, and people were huddled together, crying and shouting. Despite the commotion, all I could focus on was the anger radiating from Fade.

Nearby, two women were talking frantically. “This has to be some random shooting,” one said, her voice shaking. “Or maybe a disgruntled employee.”

I didn’t know what it was all about, but one thing was clear: Fade knew a hell of a lot more than anyone else there.

“Fade,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady, “what’s going on?”

He finally looked at me, his eyes softening just a fraction. “Just stay here, Adalee. I’ll handle this.”

I wanted to protest, to demand answers, but the intensity in his gaze stopped me. Instead, I nodded, wincing at the pain in my side. “Okay, but be careful.”

Fade nodded and then moved swiftly, his movements purposeful and controlled. I watched as he made his way through the chaos, every step radiating determination.

As I lay there, trying to process what had just happened, my mind raced with questions. Who had done this? Why? And why did Fade seem to have an idea of what was going on?

I pressed my hand to my side, feeling the warm, sticky blood seeping through my fingers. The pain was sharp but manageable. I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself.

The sound of sirens in the distance grew louder, signaling the arrival of emergency services. Paramedics and police officers flooded into the shop, adding to the confusion.

“Are you alright, miss?” A paramedic knelt beside me, her eyes full of concern.

“I think I’ve been shot,” I said, my voice shaking. “Or something.”

“Let’s get you checked out,” she said gently, helping me to my feet.

As I was led to an ambulance, I glanced back at Fade. He was talking to a police officer, his expression grim. I knew that whatever was happening was far from over.

The paramedic helped me onto a stretcher and began to examine my wound. “You’re lucky,” she said, her voice soothing. “Looks like you were just hit with some flying glass. We’ll get you patched up in no time.”

I nodded, grateful for the reassurance, but my mind was still on Fade. I needed to know what was going on. As soon as the paramedic finished, I thanked her and carefully stood up, ignoring her protests.

“You really should go to the hospital and get checked out,” she advised.

“I’m fine,” I insisted. “I need to find someone.”

The paramedic looked skeptical but didn’t stop me. I returned to the donut shop, now a scene of controlled chaos. Police were interviewing witnesses, and paramedics were tending to the injured.

I spotted Fade near the back, still talking to the officer. His face was set in a hard line, and I could see the tension in his posture.

“Fade,” I called out, my voice cutting through the noise.

He turned, his expression softening when he saw me. “Adalee.” He moved toward me, and his eyes focused on the blood on my shirt. “You were shot?” he asked.

I shook my head. “No, just some glass cut me. I must have fallen on it when you pushed me to the ground.”

“You need to go to the hospital.”

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