Chapter 32 #2
I aim for his chest. The man’s head swivels at the sound of his comrade's shout. The bullet misses, piercing his shoulder instead. Dropping the gun, he shouts for the remaining shooter to take me out.
Instantly stepping behind the side of the house, I calculate that I have approximately two hundred feet where I’m completely exposed. I have to be faster than the other gunman, or I’m dead.
I take off running, aiming for the door to Owen’s bedroom that I left open.
Noah shouts in frustration.
They took the bait.
I will my legs to move faster as I close the distance. I only have seconds before I’m exposed.
As the gunshot sounds, I grab the doorframe, pulling myself into Owen’s bedroom and instantly drop to the ground. A bullet grazes the wood frame on the outside of the door, splintering it.
I kick the door closed with my foot, yanking the curtains closed so the shooter has no clear line of sight.
It works, but not well enough. A bullet passes through the glass, shattering it, and I duck as the pieces rain across the room. One catches me on the cheek. Blood drips down my face and neck.
Ignoring it, I will myself to move. I crawl through the bedroom door, kicking it shut behind me. Moving down the hall toward the kitchen and living room, I shout, “Parker!”
“I’m still here!” he answers back.
My relief is short-lived. I hear my assailant push open the broken French doors in the bedroom behind me.
“You need to get to Noah!” I yell as my brain scans the room for the best place to hide.
Another gunshot sounds outside, and I desperately hope it’s not Noah at the other end of it.
Parker appears from behind the couch, clutching the folder like his life depends on it. His eyes are wide, and he’s shaking.
“Get to the car, Parker. Tell Noah to take the papers somewhere secure. Now!”
Parker looks like he might not listen to me, but when the door to Owen’s bedroom opens, he beelines for the exit, slipping slightly as he grabs the handle and pulls himself through.
I throw myself behind the kitchen island, hoping the shooter will come into my line of sight so I can take him down. That’s the best-case scenario, though I know he’s probably smarter than that.
It’s an eternity waiting for the footsteps to draw closer. My heart hammers in my chest, the familiar sensation of adrenaline pumping through my veins. My body becomes completely still, my vision laser-focused. My arms hold the gun in front of me, not a tremble in them.
The footsteps stop short of the opening to the kitchen.
“It’s over, Miss Riley. Your evidence is in our hands, and your friends are caught.”
I roll my eyes at the clear lie. The obvious intention is to frighten me into submission.
Instead of answering, I move as silently as I can across the wood floor.
“I know exactly where you are, Miss Riley. There’s no escaping this.”
I back up against the wall. I know he’s in the hallway directly on the other side. I’m banking on the fact that he’ll think I’m still behind the island, trying to get the best angle to take him out.
I wait for him to make his move, knowing it’s only a matter of seconds.
As I predicted, he steps slightly past the kitchen wall, looking directly where I just was. Another careful step, and I press the trigger. The bullet goes straight through his thigh, and he screams, falling with a loud thud against the wood floor. The gun he is holding bounces out of his hand.
He reaches for it, but I get there first, scooping it up and aiming both weapons directly at his head. His eyes go wide as he stares up at me.
I shake my head. “You want to know why I’m so good at my job?”
When he doesn’t do anything but grab his bleeding leg and moan, I say, “Because men like you always underestimate women like me.”
The front door whips open, crashing against the wall.
“Nova!” Noah’s panicked voice shouts from the doorway.
I smile. He’s safe. We’re safe.
“In here!” I shout back.
When he rounds the corner and finds me standing over my target, his shoulders slump, and his lips turn up. “That’s my girl.”
Ella switches on the light in my bedroom, and I bolt upright, wiping the sleep from my eyes. Jax and Evan both groan simultaneously next to me. We’ve barely slept in the last forty-eight hours.
The look on Ella’s face has me bolting out of bed. Tears streak down her face, her eyes bloodshot from crying. I fear the worst, but I wait for her to speak.
“It’s not Dec, Nova.”
The fear and pain I’ve held tightly wound up in my chest finally release, and identical tears streak down my face.
“How do you know?” I ask with a shaky voice.
Ella raises a brow. “Besides the fact that the second you were brought up, he burst into tears?”
“Shit. I’ve never seen Dec cry.”
Ella lets out a shaky laugh and falls into the chair next to the bed. “Neither have I.”
I remain standing, swaying back and forth, full of nervous energy.
“He told me everything, even though it broke about a million rules. Everything he has on Owen’s case, on your case, on the black snake crime syndicate. He put most of it together himself with very little information.”
I huff, stopping my swaying body. “I’m an idiot. I should have trusted my gut. He could have helped us.”
Ella wisely doesn’t comment, because even though she suspected he might be the rat, in the beginning she encouraged me to talk to him about everything.
“I didn’t tell him the evidence we have because I was still afraid he might be our rat, but as the conversation went on, and the more he revealed…
” Ella trails off, more tears spilling from her eyes.
“He’s risking his career for you, Nova. He told me he’s going up against the board with the shitty evidence he has and will resign after. He is fighting for you.”
“Fuck.”
How could I have so badly underestimated him?
There’s a long silence where no one even moves, though their eyes are trained on me.
I take a deep breath, meeting their expectant faces. “I’m going to Dec with all of it. I’ll explain everything.”
It’s the answer they were all anticipating, but as I quickly exit the room, Ella’s voice trails after me. “If the rat isn’t Dec, then who is it?”
I stop in the doorway, turning enough to notice her face.
I’d already figured it out as she was speaking.
Perhaps I’d always known, and I’m angry at being so foolish and as blind as Peyton implied.
But my fragmented memories and dreams finally make sense.
There’s only one person with the tech skills.
There’s only one person who was in Italy with me when everything went to shit.
And there’s only one person who has a vested interest in my trial going well.
Not because they care about me, but because they care about being outed as a double agent.
“It’s Gray.”