by Nana Malone
I snorted. "You're impossible."
"Not impossible. It’s just that the woman I love is being superhot with her strapped-up bulletproof vest thing. It’s so irresistible.”
I shook my head. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do with you."
At that point, Amelia burst into our makeshift surveillance van. "Oh my God, you two, seriously?"
East grinned, not taking his eyes off me. "Don't be jealous. I do have several friends. This could be you, Amelia, getting groped up in a surveillance van."
And then Amelia burst out in a fit of laughter. The kind of carefree laughter I hadn’t seen from her for a long time. All because of East. They were becoming fast friends now, and it made my heart full. Thanks to both of them, I’d found a family.
Once we were all set, Amelia slid me a gaze. "Ready to be the bait?"
"Yep. Point me in the right direction."
Once we were done, East had me scuttling out of the van then heading into the museum. I knew what I was doing was important. I didn't even argue when East suggested it, because at the end of the day, he was right. Krista would expect me to be guarding the painting. She would expect me to be in the thick of it all. But Krista wasn't going to get what she was coming for tonight. For weeks she'd pretended to be my friend. She’d duped me and made me feel foolish. A little payback was in order.
I nodded at the two security guys at the door and then headed right into the main gallery. Denning was waiting there, pacing. "Well, it's so nice of you to turn up. You know, considering we're in the middle of a surveillance sting."
"For fuck's sake, Denning, I get it. Your whole world has gone upside down. I understand. It sucks. But again, how is this my fault?"
"God, you must be so mad at her."
"That's just it, Denning, I'm not feeling anything. I just don't think about you, actually. I'm sorry if that hurts your feelings, but it's true. Let's just do our jobs, and then we don't have to talk anymore. Besides, I'm pretty sure you have bigger fish to fry."
"Jesus, you really are mad about her, aren't you?"
"I don't know what you want me to say. Look, I never actually wanted you to be in pain. I know you probably don't believe that, but it's true. It's not something I relish, if I'm being honest. Am I glad that I'm not the only one who sees what you're like? Absolutely. I spent a good deal of my relationship with you feeling like I was insane. No one else was seeing how you treated me. And you know what? Some of that was my fault because I stuck around. Even when I knew it wasn't right, I stuck around. Because I wanted it to be right, so I accepted my share of the responsibility. But now… Now what you’ve got going on has nothing to do with me. At all. And I, for one, am thrilled about that."
All he did was stare at me, and then as if after some thought he said, "You look happy with Hale."
"I am, but again, not really any of your business."
He sighed. "Looks like he makes you happy."
"He does."
He nodded. "Yeah, and I guess I fucked up with Hazel. Jesus, Krista. I'm an idiot. Prime wanker. She really had me. I one hundred percent believed her.”
"I'm sorry. For what it's worth, no one deserves that."
"I—"
A voice in our comms interrupted what he was about to say. "Target has reached the residence. I repeat, target has reached the residence."
Denning's eyes went wide. He stared at the painting. "How the fuck did she know?"
I was already running. "I don't know, but we’ve got to go."
Denning was right, Krista played us. She'd known that there was no way in hell we were going to put the original painting on display, knowing that she was coming for it. She was able to do this because she knew us. She knew me. I'd talked to her about AJ. Told her about Margaux. I had done this. I had put the people that I cared about at risk. Fucking hell. God, I was so dumb. But maybe I could fix it. Maybe there was time to fix this still.
Or you're too late.
I couldn't be too late. I wasn't allowed to be too late. I ran quickly through the museum with the security guys following me.
Denning was at the rear, still unable to believe what was happening.
That was the problem with Denning. He was never able to shift quickly. Never able to turn on a dime. Everything had to be so perfectly planned and staged. If it didn't go according to plan, he didn't know how to adjust.
I did.
We reached the main part of the residence, and I could see the door was open.
On the radio, I called my team. "East, Amelia, she's in the house. I repeat, she's in the house." There was no response. Maybe they were already there? Had they heard me? "I repeat, Wilson is in the house."
It was all I could do. Then I ran my ass off.
I scurried through the courtyard, then through the kitchen, and then came to a screeching halt as I turned the corner into the great room. Krista Wilson was there, and she looked like she meant business. She had a gun pointed at AJ and Margaux.
"Krista," I said cautiously as I eased forward. My father was there already, and he had his gun raised at her.
"Agent Kincade, put the gun down please."
He frowned then. "No, she's a suspect."
I ignored my father. "Krista, hey. Look, you and I, we are friends, right?"
"I'm not your friend. You're a mark. But oddly, you were the harder mark. It was so easy to get Denning to talk about work. You, on the other hand, clammed right up. I was convinced you had other secrets, but no, you were just so tight lipped. How boring is your life that this is all you have? Your boyfriend is literally a billionaire. A billionaire. You don't have to work. You could be dripping in jewels every damn day of your life. But still, you go to this paper-pushing desk job and do God knows what all damn day to people like me? I'm just trying to get what you have. God, what I would do to be in your position. You have all this access, and you are choosing not to use it. That's just dumb. You're dumb."
"Krista, easy does it. You and I, we're not at odds."
"Yes, we are, because I will do whatever is required to get what you have. I'm not even doing this for the art. You know, first, it was about that. But then I realized I was the only one being noble. Everyone else was in it for the money. Gallery owners. Collectors. They all wanted a piece of me for money."
I eased forward behind my father. "Listen, Krista, why don't you let me take Margaux out of here? She's pregnant. She's no threat to you."
"Nobody moves. Oh, where's your sidekick? That beautiful man of yours? Where is he?"
"He's busy. Listen, I know you don't want to do this."
"You don't know anything. You’re always whining about your life. Your attempted do-gooder ways, which are really more about jealousy than anything. You were just jealous that he preferred me."
I winced. "Denning? No. I could see what you were. You were the exact opposite of me, someone uncomplicated."
"Except I'm fucking plenty complicated now, aren't I?"
"Yeah, you are. Absolutely. You fooled everyone. You win. Just let me get Margaux out of here. She’s carrying a baby.”
"You don't know me. Stop acting like you know anything about me."
"I don't know you. You showed me a facsimile of a person. I chose to believe that person existed. That was on me. So why don't you show me who you really are?"
Her gaze darted around, and she could tell that I had moved nearer to her. "I said, don't come any closer."
Margaux cried in AJ's arms.
AJ did what she could to calm her wife. "You can have the painting. It's insured. Take the painting. Just leave Margaux alone. Leave us alone."
"AJ, no one is going to die here. I need you to calm Margaux down, okay? Margaux, you need to stay calm for that baby. Do you understand?"
Another inch forward.
In the dark periphery across the hall near the bedrooms, I saw East's shadow.
And the look on his face was pure venom. Jesus Christ, he had a gun.
I knew wha
t was going to happen, and if I allowed it, what was going to happen would destroy him.
"Hey, focus on me. Focus on me, okay? Krista, you are safe. You’re in control here, because we will choose to save Margaux’s life before we choose to stop you."
Denning's voice was tight behind me. "I don't know. I might not make that choice."
"He's lying. He will make that choice. It's our directive. So come on, give me the gun."
She shook her head. "No. Not going to happen."
And then she fired.
It was like everything happened in slow motion. She turned, ready to fire directly at Margaux.
AJ wrapped her body around her wife. And my father… My father jumped in front of both of them.
It was like something in a superhero film. Like he could use his body to catch the bullet.
Except a steaming darkness of blood surged at the center of his chest.
I stared at him even as Denning shouted at two security officers and Amelia took Krista Wilson into custody.
All I could do was stagger over to my father on wobbly legs. "Dad. Dad?" The blood kept spreading, and I knelt next to him then took his hand. "Why aren't you wearing a vest? You're supposed to be wearing a vest. That is protocol."
"Ny-Nyla," he coughed, and I tried to stop him from speaking.
"Stop, conserve your strength."
I was applying pressure. I knew it wasn't so bad. If I kept pressing right here, it would stop bleeding. I could do this. Focus. "Dad, Dad, come on."
He shook his head, coughing as blood covered his bottom lip. "Nyla, I'm so sorry."
"Dad, please, come on. You and me. We have a plan to catch Theroux, right?"
He laughed. "Sweetheart, I don't actually ever want to catch Theroux. Who would I be then?"
I frowned. "Your whole life, you've chased him."
He coughed. "Ny, the woman in the photo, she's your mother."
My brows drew down. "What are you talking about, Dad?"
"Leah Braddock, my informant, that was your mother's name before I changed it."
I blinked down at him. My active brain tried to concentrate on stopping the pool of blood, but he was saying these things, and I couldn't focus.
"Stop. Stop talking. Conserve your energy. We'll deal with this later."
He shook his head. "No. Ny, the woman in the photo, she's your mother. I changed her name."
I shook my head. "She was the informant?"
He nodded. "Yeah. She'd been involved with Francois Theroux, and well, you know, a man called Henry Warlow. She gave us evidence, and I chased him for years. But in the end, I couldn't catch him."
I shook my head. "No. Dad, no. This is not how it goes."
"Nyla. I—I am not your father."
I stared at my hand, holding compression on his chest. All around me, there was shouting and yelling. Police and paramedics were coming. I could hear that. I could hear the sirens. "Help is coming. You just need to hang on and stop talking, Dad. Stop telling me these lies."
"It's true. We got together. After I got her sorted with paperwork, I needed to make it look like Leah Braddock had gotten on a plane to America. But when they refueled in Spain, she got off. She stayed there for three months then came back with a new passport and a new face. Nothing drastic, but enough so she didn’t look like herself. She wanted to hide so badly from her old life."
I stared at him. "Dad. Shhhh, conserve your strength."
He coughed. "For a year, we were happy. But then, I was working all the time, and it wasn't the kind of life she wanted. Not the kind of life she would have chosen for herself. And she left me for a brief time. Then she came back, and she was pregnant with you."
I could not do this. Everywhere around us, people were listening, watching, witnessing my private pain.
I felt strong arms around me, trying to pull me away, but I wouldn't leave. Not while he was talking.
"Nyla, I— She came back, and the timing could have been right, so I chose to believe you were mine. All the while, I suspected, but I loved you like my own. And then when she died, you needed to have your appendix taken out. They asked me your blood type, and I got it wrong. It proved that you were absolutely not mine biologically. But Nyla, you were always mine in my heart. And I’m ashamed of the things I've said, of the man that I was who couldn't love my daughter enough. I'm so sorry."
"Dad, if you're not my father, who is?"
He coughed more. "I— I never wanted to tell you."
"Dad, now is the time to tell me the truth."
He went still. He stopped moving.
All I heard was the high-pitched beeping of the equipment they’d attached to him to monitor his vitals.
And then East’s arms were around me, holding me tight. "Hey, I have you."
"H-h-he's not my father. Who's— Who's— Who am I?" Oh God. He was going to die and leave me.
"You're okay. You're Nyla Kincade, the woman I love. Badass Interpol agent. That's who you are. Right now, you don't have to be anyone else. Now step back and let them work."
I could hear his words, but I didn't believe them. My father wasn't going to make it. He was gone. The man I had tried to impress, to make proud for all of my life, the man I knew as my father, he was gone.
East
I'd had one bloody job, which was to protect Nyla, to keep her safe. One job, and I failed.
And now, she was in more pain than she had ever experienced in her life, and I was powerless to do a bloody thing about it.
Some protector you are.
Just like AJ, I couldn't do anything.
You couldn't even protect the people you need to keep safe. What use are you?
I stood there frozen. Incapable of moving. Incapable of bringing the woman I loved any peace. Too numb from what I'd just witnessed.
But then something low and deep started to happen. It was like a reminder of how much I loved her. A reminder of her smile, her attitude when she didn't get her way, the frenzied wild pull of her. And then I moved. All I had to do was love her. It was like that thing that she kept trying to tell me all along. That to protect her was to love her. If I'd love her, that was protection enough from anything that she would ever have to face. For someone with supposedly such an intellect, it had taken me too damn long to figure that out.
When my muscles unlocked, I ran to her. I passed my sister as she held on to Margaux, clinging. Amelia was moving too as I moved. She was going for the suspect, and successfully tackled her, giving Krista no leeway for movement.
I was tempted to stop at first and help, but no. Nyla was my priority. In the end, she was all that I cared about. All that mattered to me was her. That smile that I would slay a thousand dragons to see. That mouth that I longed kiss. Whatever it took, I would fix this for her.
You aren't God.
Fucking watch me.
I reached her and wrapped my arms around her. "Okay, Nyla, time to get up."
She shook her head. "No, I'm not leaving here."
The rest of the security team had finally arrived. It seemed Amelia had found the systems, unlocked the exterior doors into this part of the building and let them in. I urged Nyla to get up again. "Come on, sweetheart, time to go."
"No, I said I'm not leaving him."
She held on to her father, grasping tight.
"I know, love. I know. But it’s time to go.”
She yanked her hand away from my grasp and then clamped them on her father’s chest. I knew her heart was breaking, but she needed to get out of the way.
"Ny, listen to me sweetheart, you need to move."
She shook her head stubbornly then kept trying to stop the blood from leaking out of her father.
Eventually, she gave me no choice. I reached down, wrapped an arm around her waist and scooped her up easily.
She was dumbstruck for a moment, but then she started to fight.
"Let me go. Just let me go. My father, he needs me. My father."
"I'm sorry, l
ove. I'm so sorry."
She kept fighting. "I hate you. Let me go. I've got to get to him. Let me go."
"Ny, listen to me. I know it hurts, but this has to be done."
Once the paramedics started working, I eased her down slowly, letting her body have contact with mine. Something to help bring her mind back online.
But it didn't help. She tried to circumvent me. Tried to roll around me.
"Hush. I have you." I tried to tuck her face into my chest so that she didn't have to see, but Nyla, my beautiful, strong love, she had to see. She had to watch. She had to be sure.
But I wasn't going to let her get in the way, because if there was a chance of saving her father, I was going to give the paramedics room to make that happen. There wasn't much she would let me do for her. But this, I could do this. Against my shoulder, she wept. Just sobbing and crying. It had been my job to protect her. My job to keep her safe from all of this. And I had failed in my job, and now she was in the kind of pain I never wanted her to know.
As she wept, I held her. I had no other choice, because... I loved her. So, I held her tight and let her weep. "Hush now. Let's get you out of here, okay? They need to process the scene. And I know you don't want anyone else to see you like this."
She sobbed against my shoulder. "East."
I leaned down and gently cupped her cheeks, my gaze meeting hers. "Yeah, love?"
"He said… He said he wasn't my father."
I blinked. "What?"
"And the informant in that picture. She was my mother. But he said someone else was my father."
I blinked down at her. "Ny, are you sure that's what you heard? Because sometimes in the heat of the moment—"
Her brows snapped down. "He said it. He said it. Even when he was dying, he said it."
"Love, I'm not sure what this means, but we’ll figure it all out. "
"East... East, who am I?"
"You're the woman I love. That's all I know, and that's all that matters right now. Now, let them do their jobs. I'm taking you out of here."
If I hadn't been poised for it, watching for it, waiting for it, I wouldn't have noticed her imperceptible nod. But when she finally did, I breathed a sigh of relief because I could do this one small thing to bring her some peace. It was the least I could do after bringing her into my hell.