Page 78 of The San Marco Heist

“Say the word, Eloise.” Rev appeared next to me, suppressed pistol pointed directly at Malcolm’s assailant’s head. He was supposed to be in the car, but he was never very good at listening when we were in danger. He stepped in front of me. “And I’ll take him out.”

Malcolm’s eyes widened. “Let’s not get too crazy here.”

“Stay back, Frenchman, or I’ll put a bullet through his head.”

“He’s a contractor.” Rav’s words were cold, and I knew he wouldn’t hesitate. He was trained, too, but by a military who’d deployed him into far more dangerous situations than we went into.

I wasn’t ready for bloodshed.

“Give me the ring and your brother lives.”

I launched from the tree, prepared to pull Rav’s gun away from the man, but my right leg gave out underneath me and I landed on the ground at Rav’s feet. Through a strangled sob—part pain, part desperation, part fear—I said, “You’re lying. This isn’t the pickup point. Who are you?”

A tiny spark flickered by the man’s head, and he collapsed, entire body convulsing. The spark followed him to the ground.

Everyone moved so fast, while my head spun. Malcolm dodged away from the man, Rav disarmed him, and Declan slid his stun gun back into his belt holster.

Thank all the powers that be. I blew out a shuddering breath and let my head fall into my hands.Reynolds women don’t cry. Reynolds women don’t cry. But still, the stinging hit the back of my eyes, and I saw Noah’s car fly over the edge of the bridge one more time. Communications failure. Dead. Malcolm had lost his earpiece. And could have died.

This was why you didn’t get involved with people in the business, let alone on your team.

People died.

Someone was putting zip ties on him and unrolling duct tape, probably for his mouth. I couldn’t look up. I couldn’t move. My leg was on fire, and my stomach wanted to throw up everything I’d eaten all day.

Calm down, Scarlett.People died, but nobody had died tonight.Reynolds women don’t cry.

Strong arms tucked under me, and I opened my eyes to see Malcolm’s beautiful blues.

“I’ve got you. Let’s get you to the—”

Rav was in front of us. “Give her to me.”

Malcolm didn’t puff his chest or argue. Didn’t eye him with the same disdain he’d given Thomas Maguire. He simply shook his head. “I’ve got her. You make sure everyone else is safe and that we all get to the car.”

“Let me get a photo,” said Declan.

Rav said, “That doesn’t matter. We need to hurry.”

Malcolm was already carrying me toward the car.

There was a flash of light behind us, and Declan said, “What if he really was the pickup guy? Or what if someone was double-crossing the clowns? Or he’s from another crew? This face could be leverage.”

Chapter 30

Malcolm

Bytwointhemorning London time, we were all on the jet, on our way to Venice. Everyone had their turn in the heads to clean up and change. Declan, Jayce, and I sat in the forward cabin’s oversized leather chairs, happy to be alive.

I tried not to stare at the door at the back and failed miserably. Rav had sequestered Scarlett in the VIP cabin, tending to her injuries. What was taking so long? Was he coming out at all?

Declan sank in his seat facing me, reaching his long leg across to nudge mine. That man had saved my life tonight. “How you holding up?”

“Youdidcheck to see if the guy’s finger was on the trigger first, right?”

Declan grinned. “Of course, I did.”

Why didn’t that inspire me with any confidence?

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