“How do you not get it?” he rasps. “How the fuck do you not get it by now, Ayla? You didn’t just save Marcus’s life the night you took those bullets for him. You saved mine. You saved Theo’s.” I blink up at him, completely thrown off balance. “What do you mean? The gun was aimed at Marcus. The bullets—” “I’m not talking about the gun.” He shakes his head, his gaze never leaving mine. “I’m not talking about the bullets.”
