His Bullet Bound Me

Chapter 10 - The Shadow That Never Misses

“And what if I don’t want you?” she asked, pushing, needing to know where his edges were. “What if I tell my father to send you back and hire someone…friendlier. Less terrifying. Less—” she waved a hand. “You.”

A small, dangerous smile tugged at his mouth.

“Then,” Marcus said, “I’ll still be there. You just won’t see me.”

She stared. “That’s supposed to make me feel better?”

“It’s not about how you feel,” he said, and there was no softness in it now. “It’s about you staying alive long enough to feel anything.”

Her pulse picked up again. “So that’s it? I have no say?”

He leaned in then, close enough that she could count the flecks in his irises, the faint scar slicing through his left eyebrow.

“You have a say in many things,” he said quietly. “Who you vote for. What you study. What causes you support. Who you fall in love with.”

Her breath hitched on that last one.

“But this,” he finished, “is not one of them.”

She swallowed.

“Why not?” she whispered, hating that her voice came out small.

His answer was immediate.

“Because from the moment that red dot touched your chest,” Marcus said, “you stopped being just Aurora Lane and became my responsibility.”

Her heart stuttered.

“Your…what?”

“My responsibility,” he repeated. “My principal. My charge.”

“That’s a lot of ‘my,’” she said, trying for flippant and missing.

He didn’t smile.

“You’re not a job that ends at five,” he went on. “You’re not a file I close when you go to sleep. Until this threat is neutralized, your life is tied to mine. Every route you take, every room you walk into, every crowd you stand in— I will be there. In front of you. Behind you. Between you and anyone who wants you dead.”

Her chest was too tight now.

“That sounds…suffocating,” she whispered.

“It’s supposed to,” he said. “Fear keeps people careful.”

“I don’t want to live afraid.”

He searched her face, something like understanding flickering there. “Then don’t,” he said. “Let me be afraid for you.”

The words knocked the air out of her lungs.

She stared at him, stunned.

He exhaled once, like he’d finally decided to stop circling and just land.

“You asked who I am,” Marcus said, voice low. “You asked what this is.”

She nodded, unable to look away.

His gaze locked on hers, steady and unblinking.

“My name is Marcus Cross,” he said. “TITAN Shield. Protective detail lead.”

His hand moved, not quite touching her, hovering over the seat between them like a promise that hadn’t been made yet.

“And from now on,” he said, every syllable clear and devastating, “I’m your shadow.”

The words sank into her skin, her bones, her pulse.

Your shadow.

Something in her responded too fast, too much.

“Shadows disappear,” Aurora managed, though her voice was barely there. “When the light changes. When the person moves.”

His mouth curved, but there was nothing amused in it.

“I don’t,” he said. “Not when I’m assigned. Not when there’s a threat.”

“And after?” she asked. “When the threat is gone?”

He held her gaze for a long, long moment.

“Then,” Marcus said slowly, “we’ll have a different conversation.”

Her heart did a wild, traitorous leap.

“That sounds ominous,” she said softly.

“It’s a warning.”

“Of what?”

He looked at her like she was the most complicated puzzle he’d ever been handed and also the only one that had ever mattered.

“Of what happens,” he said, “when a shadow forgets it’s not supposed to want the light.”

Silence crashed down between them, thick and electric.

Her fingers curled into the leather seat.

“Marcus…” she breathed.

He blinked once, breaking whatever that was, and leaned back, shutters slamming down behind his eyes.

“We’re five minutes out,” he said, voice professional again. “When we arrive, you stay behind me until the sweep is complete. You don’t talk to the press. You don’t talk to anyone I haven’t cleared. You go where I tell you, when I tell you.”

She swallowed, trying to steady herself.

“And if I don’t?” she asked, more out of reflex than intent.

His gaze cut to her, all the softness gone now, replaced by cold, lethal focus.

“Then,” Marcus said softly, “I stop being polite about the way I put you where you need to be.”

The image that conjured—his hand on her waist, dragging her out of danger, the hard wall of his chest slamming into her back as bullets flew—should not have made her shiver the way it did.

She lifted her chin. “You really think you can control me?”

He didn’t hesitate. “I know I can control the environment.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only one you’re getting.”

She huffed out a breath, somewhere between exasperation and reluctant awe. “You’re infuriating.”

“You’re alive,” he said again.

“And you’re bleeding,” she shot back.

He glanced down at his shoulder, as if just remembering. “I’ll live.”

“You’re very sure of that.”

His eyes met hers once more.

“I have to be,” he said quietly. “Your shadow doesn’t get to fall.”

Her throat tightened.

Outside, the city began to change—the streets widening, the lampposts turning ornate, the security presence doubling. The Lane estate was close. She could feel it like a weight, dragging at her ribs.

Inside the SUV, something else weighed on her now too.

His words.

His vow.

The way “my responsibility” had sounded suspiciously like something else.

Aurora drew in a breath that didn’t feel nearly deep enough.

“Fine,” she said, forcing steel into her voice. “You want to be my shadow? Then you’d better keep up.”

For a heartbeat, his mouth curved—just a little.

“Princess,” Marcus murmured, eyes dark and certain, “you have no idea how close I already am.”