Sweet Retribution (Rydeville High Elite #3)(103)

Father throws back his head, laughing hysterically at the anger and panic surfacing on Christian’s face. “Abigail, you little bitch,” the bastard says, turning to look at me. “I hate your conniving cunt, but I’ve never been prouder than I am in this moment.” He cocks an unfocused eye at Christian. “I knew you couldn’t be trusted, and I’ve spent years compiling evidence of your corruption. I told you before if I go down, you go down.”

The next few seconds happen as if in slow motion. Christian whips a gun out of the back of his dress pants, aiming it at my father while Trent yanks me back, pressing a gun to my temple.

A shot rings out at the same time a massive explosion rattles the walls. The podium floor shakes and my limbs tremble as I sway on my feet. Dust plumes rain down on us, and I scream as my ears splinter, a pounding, piercing pain ripping through both eardrums. Blood splatters my white blouse, and all hell breaks loose in the aftermath of the bomb and the shooting.

Father’s head rolls back, and his blank eyes stare at me, as his limp body slumps in the chair. Christian grins manically as he pumps another bullet into Father’s chest.

Fury crests the surface because I didn’t want the bastard to die.

I wanted him to rot in a jail cell, and Christian fucking Montgomery has just robbed me of that justice.

I scream in frustration, or at least I think I do, because I can’t hear things properly. Sounds are muffled, but I hear faint screams as people dash from the auditorium, tripping over one another in their haste to get away.

The air is thick with dust, visibility is hazy, like fog, and I cough profusely.

On the stage, everyone is clutching their ears, and Trent’s hold on me has loosened. Using it to my advantage, I reach around, grabbing hold of his dick and digging my nails in as I squeeze it hard. He screams out in pain, releasing me and dropping his gun as he cups his junk, moaning in agony. Ignoring the dull ache in my skull, I reach for the gun strapped to my thigh.

“Abby!” Kai shouts, but his voice is like a whisper in my ear. “Behind you.”

Jackson emits a loud roar as he launches himself across the stage toward Christian. Christian’s arm is elevated, and his gun is pointed.

At me.

Does he hate me that much he wants to kill me too? Because I’ve foiled his plans for elite domination, or he’s pissed on his son’s behalf? Or he’s just a crazy psycho who loves shooting people?

A shot goes off, whizzing over my head, only missing me because Kai tugs on my ankle, pulling me to the ground in time. Jackson lands on top of Christian, and they wrestle for the gun. Trent grunts, struggling to his feet and reaching for his gun. Jackson is oblivious, still fighting with Christian, so he doesn’t see Trent lift his gun in his direction.

“No!” I scream, turning on my side and raising my gun as Kai climbs to his feet, running toward his friend.

But my scream alerts Trent, and he spins around, pointing his weapon at me now and firing.

Drew’s panicked shout tickles my sensitive eardrums, and I glance at my twin. His eyes are wide as he stares at me from the other side of the stage. Denton Mathers, whom he’s fighting, seizes the opportunity, ramming his fist into Drew’s face.

Time stands still as I turn back around, facing a smug-looking Trent.

Kai roars, turning around the same time Charlie barrels past him, knocking him to the ground.

I squeeze the trigger of my gun and pray it hits its target before the breath leaves my body.

But Trent’s shot never reaches me.

Because Charlie jumps in front of me first, taking the bullet intended for me.

I crash to the floor on my back, Charlie’s weight pressing down on me as warm liquid oozes all over my blouse. Kai shouts, crawling toward us as the doors to the auditorium burst open, and swarms of cops and FBI agents enter the room. In the same second Jackson grabs the gun from Christian’s hand, Trent swings around, pointing his weapon at Jackson’s back. My aim was clearly off, and my shot missed him, or he dodged it in time.

“Trent has a gun on you, Jackson!” I screech, hoping he can hear me through the earpiece.

Jackson whips around and shoots without hesitation.

Christian pales, staring wide-eyed at his son, looking indecisive for a split second before he slides out from behind Jackson and races toward the side door.

Trent’s gun drops to the floor, and blood oozes out of a wound in his chest. His fingers splay over the blood leaking down his white shirt, while more blood spurts from his mouth.

Jackson looks over his shoulder, cursing as he spots Christian slipping into the back corridor. Raw pain is etched across Jackson’s face, and I can almost see the wheels churning in his mind as he calculates whether it’s worth giving chase.

Trent turns his head in my direction, and our eyes lock. A multitude of differing emotions splays across his face. Shock. Fear. Disbelief. Anger. He opens his mouth, attempting to say something to me, pointing his arm as blood pours like a river from his lips. His powerful body sways, and I watch as he falls to the floor with a resounding thud, seeing the exact moment the light vanishes from his eyes.

“Abby, fuck!” Kai’s voice sounds distant even though he’s right beside me. His fingers touch my cheek. “Are you hurt?”

“No.” I shake my head even as my lungs constrict. Charlie is heavy on top of me, bleeding all over me.

Drew sinks to his knees. Blood drips down his face from a cut over his eye, and his nose is all busted up. “Abby. Are you injured?”