Page 7 of Marked By His Touch
I hate that I can’t defend myself and always rely on Alexander for protection. I long to be strong and capable, but I feel like a porcelain doll, fragile and easily shattered.
As we enter Port Haven, the cityscape unfolds before us, a familiar yet somehow alien landscape. The familiar landmarks, the bustling streets, and the towering buildings all feel different, darker somehow. The city’s usual vibrant energy feels muted and strange. The air is thick with the scent of rain, and the streets are slick with moisture.
Rain Haven, I’ve missed you.
We pass a beat-up sedan, its paint faded and scratched, parked haphazardly at the curb.
My stomach twists as I recognize the man entering the car. It’s Tyler. He’s joined by a woman—his girlfriend, I guess? She slides into the passenger seat; it looks like she’s laughing. I feel a strange tingling under my skin. This doesn’t feel right.
“That was weird,” I mutter, my brow furrowing.
Alexander glances at me, his expression unreadable. “What?”
“I thought I saw Tyler,” I say, my voice tight. “He’s changed his car—to a used car.”
He shrugs, his gaze fixed back on the road. “So?”
His nonchalance is unnerving. I know Tyler. He’s not the kind of guy who willingly drives a beat-up clunker. He’s always been about status, about projecting an image of wealth and power. Why would he suddenly drive a car that screams ‘cheap’ and ‘disposable’?
A chill runs through me. Is Tyler in trouble?
“What did Isaac say? Did you talk to him?” I ask, shaking my mind from the image of Tyler.
Alexander nods, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. “Not much. He lost control of EverBlue, and he couldn’t run it with me gone. Cole Cohan is running it now.”
Of course, the Raven has taken over EverBlue Group shipping company.
The words are a punch to the gut, a reminder of the power The Raven holds. This must be a bitter pill for Alexander to swallow - losing his empire, built brick by brutal brick, to The Raven.
I see the pain reflected in his eyes as he gazes at the city skyline. It’s a deep, raw pain, the kind that comes from a loss that is too deep ever thoroughly to heal. It’s the pain of a man losing his empire, the pain of a brother who couldn’t protect his sister. He’s a warrior, a protector, but even he can’t shield himself and the people he loves from the darkness.
I want to take away his pain, to heal his wounds, but I don’t know how. My love for him burns bright, a fierce, consuming flame.And still, it’s not enough.
“I’m sorry,” I say, the words coming out in a rush, angry tears threaten to spill over. “Screw Cole.”
“I’m trying to—” Alexander begins, his voice filled with a raw emotion that tugs at my heart. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re alive.”
I nod, a single, silent tear tracing a path down my cheek.But Sarah might not be alive.
As if he has read my mind, he says, “Don’t worry. Sarah is still alive. It’s a message. He’s trying to make a point. Call us back to Port Haven.”
“And here we come running,” I say.
He grabs my hand. “We don’t have a choice. We have to be smart about it.”
I nod and glance out the window. The city feels different, darker, and rainier, even more so than usual. It’s a place ofshadows and secrets, where danger lurks in every corner. But it’s also our home, and we’re back.
“Let’s stop at your place,” Alexander says and drives on, the water splashing around the rental car.
“Yeah,” I nod, not knowing what to expect there. I dig my fingernails into my palm as I think of painful ways to kill Cole Cohan.
Chapter 3
The Ransacked Apartment
The scentof my mom’s lavender and cinnamon candles used to be the first thing that greeted me when I walked through the door. Now, it’s a faint whisper, drowned out by the acrid smell of dust and something burnt. I feel a chill, not from the temperature, but from the hollow emptiness that’s replaced the warmth of home.It doesn’t feel like my apartment anymore.
The place is a battlefield of destruction. Overturned furniture, shards of broken glass, and scattered belongings create a chaotic scene. My heart sinks. This isn’t just a robbery—this is a message.
