Ava.
Brooke’s voice comes again, quieter this time.
“And behind her.”
I shift my focus slightly.
There.
Half hidden near the hallway entrance, someone leans against the wall with their head down like they are scrolling through their phone.
But they're not.
Ezra.
I go still.
They're spread out across the club, watching and waiting.
This is not a party.
This is a setup.
Elliot leans forward again, resting his elbows on his knees, that same pleased, mocking expression settling into place.
Then he picks up a microphone.
“Well,” he says, his voice smooth and unhurried, like he has all night to enjoy this. “I was starting to think you wouldn’t show.”
The room doesn't react. Most people don't even notice.
But I do. Because now I can feel it.
Too many eyes. Too many angles. Too many ways this can go wrong.
Elliot leans back again and lifts one finger, not a signal anyone else will catch, just enough.
Brooke doesn't move. She stands beside me, steady, locked on him.
Then I see it.
A faint red beam cuts through the low light.
It doesn't sweep or search.
It lands directly on Brooke’s chest.
Chapter 48
Seth
Imove before my brain catches up.
I slam into Brooke and drive her sideways just as the shot cracks through the club.
Pain tears across my shoulder as the round grazes through it, but not enough to slow me down. I push through it and keep moving.
The room erupts.
