Chapter 3 - The Bloody Cart
Marcus stared at the drop of blood for a long, agonizing second.
He slowly raised his suppressed handgun and pointed it directly at the center of Norah's forehead.
"Step aside, Norah," he commanded with a lethal calmness.
Norah's mind raced, knowing that moving would seal Declan's fate, and staying would seal her own.
"I cut my finger on the broken glass," she blurted out, holding up her hand to show a tiny, old papercut.
Marcus let out a dry, humorless laugh that echoed down the empty corridor.
"Do you really think I am stupid enough to believe that?" he asked.
He reached out with his free hand and grabbed her roughly by the throat.
He slammed her against the heavy oak door, knocking the breath completely out of her lungs.
"I know he is in there bleeding like a stuck pig," Marcus hissed into her ear.
He pressed the cold barrel of the gun against her temple.
"Open the door and drag him out, or I will paint this hallway with your brains," he threatened.
Norah choked, her hands desperately clawing at his iron grip.
She closed her eyes, realizing she had finally run out of options.
Suddenly, a deafening roar erupted from the other side of the heavy wood.
Three massive bullet holes splintered through the thick oak door in rapid succession.
Marcus's eyes went wide with shock as the third bullet tore directly through his chest.
His grip on Norah's throat instantly vanished.
He collapsed backward onto the carpet, a dark stain rapidly spreading across his expensive suit.
Norah dropped to her knees, gasping for air as she stared at the dead underboss.
The heavy door slowly creaked open on its black iron hinges.
Declan was leaning against the doorframe, gripping his pistol with both hands, his face pale and covered in sweat.
"I told you he was coming to finish the job," Declan rasped before his legs gave out completely.
He crashed to the floor, the gun clattering away from him.
Norah scrambled to her feet and grabbed him under his arms, desperately trying to drag him back into the trauma room.
As she pulled him across the threshold, a buzzing sound echoed from the hallway floor.
A cell phone had fallen out of Marcus's pocket when he collapsed.
The bright screen illuminated the dark carpet, displaying an incoming call.
May you like
Norah froze entirely as she read the name flashing across the caller ID.
It was Arthur Vale, her missing ex-husband.
