The Fall of East: Book 3 in the Hear No Evil Trilogy by Malone, Nana (ebook reader with internet browser .txt) 📗

In cases like this, we called for backup because we had no guns. And to just jump and join in the chaos was stupid. Somehow, in the heat of the moment, Garreth managed to grab an arm around Emma, and Bridge launched for him.

Garreth shook his head. "No, no. You come for me, and I’ll shoot her."

Bridge scowled at him. "If you fucking put your hands on her, I will kill you."

"You're welcome to try. Your mate, East, has been trying for years. Haven't you, lad?"

"Fuck you, Jameson."

"Uh, I thought you already knew. My name is not Jameson. It’s Warlow. Oddly, it’s as spectacular as Jameson though, right?"

I tried to keep him talking so that Nyla could come up behind him. She and Amelia were armed and were coming from the opposite direction, so Garreth’s back was facing them. They could put an end to this.

"Okay, so you hate me. I understand. How long have you known the truth about your father? If you're going to escape and kill us all anyway, tell me, how long?"

"Since I became Elite. In case you haven't noticed, there's no love lost between me and the old man. He ruined my life. He forced me to keep this secret too. He thought he could train me to be a thief like him. Little did he know that I was one of the world's best forgers. I went to art school like he wanted. Not just to learn about the masters, but to create my own. And of course, he didn't support that. He had a whole other plan in mind. Old geezer never even had a clue that I replaced the Wilson Collins painting outside of his office. God, it was such a fucking rush every day, knowing that he had no idea I’d painted it."

Emma struggled in his arms. Telly, seeing where I was going, also tried to help calm him. "That must suck. I feel sorry for you. Your father is the worst, but why? Why not just take your money and run? You would have made an excellent living as a forger."

"Yeah, but forgers aren't billionaires, are they? The old man ruined my life by trying to manipulate my very existence, so I needed to stick it to him. Besides, I wanted to inherit the title when he dies."

I saw a shadow, and I sensed it was Nyla before she stepped into the light. Gun raised she said, "Easy does it, Jameson. Hands up. No one needs to get shot today."

His eyes flared. I could tell he hadn't been expecting that. And then Amelia flanked Nyla and said, “Nyla, I have to say, billionaires, they’re really the worst.”

Nyla laughed, even as Amelia trained her gun on him.

He inclined his head as he turned slowly.

Emma used that opportunity to try and deliver an elbow, but she miscalculated because Jameson wasn't giving up. Bridge knew what was happening before I did, and he launched for her and yelled, "Emma."

And then there was a gunshot.

I cursed, as Emma fell on the ground howling in pain. And then Jameson aimed at Amelia. Nyla jumped over her friend to push her to the ground. And Jameson once again made a run for it while Bridge tended to Emma.

I didn’t even care about what he was doing. All I saw was Nyla on the ground, covering her friend, and I lost it. "Fuck." I reached down for Nyla. "Are you okay?"

She brushed me off. "Yes. Don't let him get away.”

I ran to catch up with Telly, who was already giving chase, calling for security the whole way.

As we hit the main thoroughfare, I saw the taillights of one of the gardener’s trucks pulling down the lane at rocket speed. To catch up, we'd have to run back to the house to get a car. Jameson was gone. Fuck. He had escaped yet again.

There was panting behind me, heavy breathing. When I turned, it was Nyla. "He's gone?"

I coughed. "Yeah, he's gone. But we'll find him later. Right now, we need to deal with Emma."

She murmured something inaudible and ran back with me to where Emma was.

Bridge was leaning over her, looking haunted, his hands pressed on her side. "It’s through and through, but she's losing a lot of blood."

Telly, who was a bit shaken from the gunshot, regained her wits and suggested, “Let's go and put her in the van. Get her to the hospital."

Ben, who’d arrived with Drew from the other side of the property, clapped Bridge on the shoulder. "Let me see it. Shouldn’t we just take her to the house and have a doctor come in?"

Bridge glowered at him. "She's fucking shot, Ben. I'm not going to let you be the judge on this matter. It’s fucking Emma.”

Ben held up his hands. “All right, mate. I suppose it’s your call. Let’s go to the hospital then. I’m sorry.”

Bridge relaxed. "I—I’m sorry."

Ben nodded. "No, I understand. You're looking out for her."

Bridge was shaking as he reached down and picked her up, and then he cradled her against his body. "Let's get her to Evanston."

It was a big mess to clean up, and we'd almost lost one of ours.

Nyla's face was shuttered. Completely devoid of emotion. I knew she was thinking about her father and the bullet he'd taken for someone else.

My heart broke for her. I reached for her, and she came into my arms easily. "I want Jameson’s head on a spike.”

"I promise you we'll find him. In the meantime, let's take care of Ems. And then the lads and I will take care of what's going on in there." I nodded toward the house where the rest of our members were still waiting.

Her gaze lifted to mine. "Is it almost over?"

"Yeah. It's almost over."

Chapter Twenty-One Nyla

This was our last shot.

But instead of Amelia and I bringing in Garreth Jameson, we’d lost him.

And he had shot Emma.

I tried to shut down the flashes of memory of sticky red blood as Telly