Chapter 113

Nora POV

The gunshot cracks through the night like a whip, and for one frozen second everything stops. Vincent's arm jerks upward as the bullet slams into his shoulder, spinning him halfway around. The gun flies from his hand and clatters across the concrete. He staggers, clutching the wound, blood already soaking through his coat.

Marcus steps out of the shadows near the loading dock entrance with his pistol still raised and aimed at Vincent.

Vincent drops to one knee, gasping. "You... bastard..."

I don't hear the rest. My legs are already moving.

David is on his back with both hands pressed limply to his stomach. Dark blood is pooling beneath him, and spreading fast across the cracked pavement. His eyes are half-open but unfocused, chest rising in shallow, uneven breaths.