Page 115 of Undone

As I looked at Gracie, my stomach twisted. She was still starstruck, her eyes wide, completely unaware of the threat just a few feet away.

And then it happened.

John’s eyes flicked to mine, a sharp recognition flashing across his face. In that moment, I knew. I wasn’t imagining things.

He was here.

And this was the endgame.

I went to push past the guard, but he stood in front of me.

“Wait. Here,” he said. “Or I’ll have to escort you out.”

Something dangerous passed through his expression as John ignored the security guard and took a step forward. I knew we were past the point of no return. He was here for something, someone.

And I had an idea who.Noah.

“We need to go.” My heart hammered as I moved closer to Gracie and Noah, my protective instinct kicking into overdrive.

“What? No, not yet!” Gracie protested, her disappointment palpable.

But then his posture shifted, his body tensing as his eyes narrowed, locking onto Gracie. A cold, predatory gleam entered his gaze.

No. Not my daughter. My chest constricted. He wasn’t after Noah. He was after Gracie.

“Now Gracie!”

I knew Gracie was just a kid to him—a weapon, an easy target. A way to punish Noah. To prove he still held the strings, even now.

His gaze lingered on Gracie, his movements calculated.

“Hey!” the guard shouted as Johns stepped forward. “I said you need to wait your turn.”

I had to stop him. I couldn’t let him hurt her. Not now. Not ever. John’s hand shot into his jacket, and I saw the flash of metal.

Before I could even process it, a guard shouted, “Gun!”

The room erupted into chaos. Two guards pulled out guns, but most were unarmed. They moved quickly, one lunging for John’s arm, trying to wrest the weapon away, while the other pulled a baton, aiming for his wrist.

Gasps rippled through the room, followed by a shrill scream. Chairs scraped against the floor as people scrambled to get out of the way.

I didn’t know how he got a gun past security, but if anyone could do it, it was John. He was too smart, too determined.

And then a gunshot rang out.

The crowd ducked instinctively as the shot echoed through the room. One of the guards lunged toward John again, while the other shielded civilians, shouting for people to move.

“Get down!” the taller guard shouted.

People were moving, stumbling over each other in panic, while John moved closer to Gracie.

Someone tried to move in front of him, but John pointed the gun at them, an unsettling calm in his posture.

The command came. “Lockdown!” a guard shouted into their radio.

“Drop it!” someone commanded.

John’s attention snapped back to me, his lips curling into a cruel smile. “I don’t think so,” he sneered. “Everyone but blondie and the girl, stand over there. Now.”

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