Zoey p.o.v
I wake up to a not so silent movement, footsteps slamming heavily against the floor. I flickered my eyes open, the familiar ceiling of our bedroom coming into view.
I slowly and carefully sat up.
“Marco?”
He was moving around picking some documents from the drawer of his mini office in the room, and keeping neatly in the suitcase on the desk.
“You're up.” He came over and place a kiss on my forehead.
He reached for the two guns in the nightstand, he kept them there for emergency purposes. He stuffed one in his waistline and the other in the same suitcase.
“Where are you going to.” I asked him.
It's still early in the morning, a few minutes past five precisely. Which means he's going out on a mission.
“Mexico.” He answered briefly.
“Need my assistance?” I was referring
