Chapter 4 Trapped

The black sedan blocked the road completely, leaving nowhere for us to go. My heart pounded so hard that I could hear it in my ears as the four men stepped out one after another. They were dressed in black from head to toe, and the man walking in front held a gun so casually that it sent a chill through my entire body.

"What is happening?" I whispered.

Alexander didn't answer immediately. His eyes stayed fixed on the men outside while his expression became colder than I had ever seen it.

The driver gripped the steering wheel tightly. "Mr. Kingston, should I reverse?"

"No."

The answer came quickly.

"There isn't enough space. Stay calm."

Stay calm? How was I supposed to stay calm when armed men were walking toward us in broad daylight?

The bodyguard sitting in the front passenger seat reached inside his jacket and quietly pulled out a handgun.

My stomach twisted. This wasn't a movie, this was real. Alexander finally looked at me. "Keep your head down."

"What?"

"Do exactly what I say."

Before I could respond, one of the men outside slammed his hand against the hood of the SUV.

Bang! The sound made me jump. Another man walked toward my side of the vehicle and knocked on the window.

He smiled. It wasn't a friendly smile, it was the kind that made my blood run cold.

"Open the door," he shouted. Nobody moved. The man hit the glass harder this time. "I said open the door!"

Alexander leaned slightly toward the driver.

"Drive."

"The road is blocked."

"I know."

"Sir"

"Drive."

The SUV shot forward. The impact came instantly. Metal crashed against metal as our vehicle slammed into the black sedan blocking the road. I screamed as my body jerked forward against the seat belt. The force pushed the other car aside just enough to create a narrow opening.

"We're through!" the driver shouted.

For one second, I thought we had escaped. Then a loud bang echoed behind us. The rear window shattered. Glass exploded across the seats. I covered my head instinctively.

"They're shooting!" the driver yelled.

My breathing became uneven. Someone was actually shooting at us.

Alexander pulled me down until my head rested against the seat.

"Stay down."

Another shot rang out, then another. Cars around us began swerving in every direction while people ran toward the sidewalks, screaming.

The driver turned sharply onto another street. The gunfire finally stopped. Nobody spoke for several seconds. The only sound inside the SUV was our breathing.

My hands were shaking so badly I couldn't stop them. Alexander looked at me.

"Are you hurt?"

I slowly shook my head.

"No."

He carefully brushed a few pieces of broken glass from my shoulder. His fingers barely touched me, yet the unexpected gesture caught me off guard.

"You have a cut."

I frowned.

"What?"

He pointed toward my forehead. I touched it carefully. When I looked at my fingertips, there was blood.

"It isn't deep," he said.

"I'll survive."

His eyes remained on the small cut for another second before he leaned back.

The driver finally spoke.

"We lost them."

Alexander nodded.

"Take us to the hospital."

The rest of the journey passed in silence. I stared out the window, trying to understand what had just happened.

None of it made sense. A few hours ago, I had been unemployed. Now people with guns were chasing me. Nothing about today felt real.

Twenty minutes later, the SUV pulled into the underground parking garage of Saint Mary's Medical Center.

Several security guards rushed toward us the moment we stepped out. Alexander spoke quietly with one of them before turning back to me.

"Stay close."

"I'm capable of walking by myself."

"I don't doubt that."

"Then stop treating me like I'm helpless."

"I'm treating you like someone people just tried to kill."

His words stole every argument I had prepared. I followed him into a private elevator.

Neither of us spoke during the ride. When the doors opened, two armed guards were already waiting outside Ethan's hospital room.

The sight made me uneasy. Alexander nodded toward them.

"Open it."

One guard stepped aside and pushed the door open. I walked inside.

The room was quiet except for the steady beeping of medical machines. Ethan sat against the pillows with his left arm in a sling and a bandage wrapped around his forehead. He looked pale, but the moment he saw me, relief flooded his face.

"You came."

His voice sounded weak. I walked closer. "You asked for me."

He nodded. "I wasn't sure he'd bring you."

His eyes briefly shifted toward Alexander before returning to me.

"I don't understand any of this," I admitted. "Why did you write that I was in danger?"

Ethan looked toward the door, the guards, Alexander, then back at me. His face became serious.

"Because your father didn't steal anything."

My heart skipped a beat.

"I knew it."

"He died trying to protect something."

Before I could ask another question, the heart monitor beside his bed suddenly began beeping faster.

Ethan's eyes widened.

"No..."

He reached for my wrist with surprising strength.

"You have to leave."

"What?"

"They found you."

Confused, I looked around the room. Everything seemed normal. Then I noticed it.

A nurse was standing just outside the glass window in the hallway. She wasn't moving, she wasn't looking at the patients, she was staring directly at me. The moment our eyes met, she smiled; slowly, coldly. Then she lifted her hand and traced one finger across her throat.

My blood turned to ice.