Chapter Thirty-Eight
Uh oh. Emily’s announcement for Nash to join her on the stage meant more eyes would be searching for him. Crawley and Stein combed through the crowds, getting closer by the second. Odds were that once they found him, he wouldn’t be enjoying any final moments with her, as much as he wished to taste those sweet lips one last time.
His insides twisted with regret and longing for what could’ve been.
Emily was fantastic up there. He couldn’t be more proud. She’d pulled it off! Ironically, Lynch had done for Emily’s career what Nash hadn’t—Lynch had made her a superstar in exactly five minutes.
Nash pressed stop on his camera and sent the recording to Eva. She’d blast that performance out into the world on one of her fake TalkieTalk accounts as soon as she got it.
Damage control was on its way!
Emily’s performance was officially a success. It felt good to stick it to Lynch, even if Nash was out of tricks. Unfortunately, the internet was slow. His phone showed him that the video hadn’t gone through yet.
He couldn’t allow himself to get caught until the message reached Eva. West’s warning that the corruption went higher up than anyone could imagine made it so that he hadn’t bothered going to the authorities for help. Nash had known that he’d need to face this on his own, and he was reluctant to drag anyone else down with him—he wasn’t about to pull what his brother had done to him on anyone.
And still his memories of these last few days with Emily played above him on that stage, bracing him for what he had to do. Emily sang all about their adventures on the water, and how his kisses warmed her right up.
He broke into a dark smirk. That wasn’t how he remembered it—she’d been shivering all the way home, and he’d taken advantage of every excuse to hold her tight. Even so, her every song so far had made him smile with nostalgia. This must be how Liv felt when River dedicated songs to her—minus running from Lynch’s cutthroats, of course.
Keeping one eye on Emily and the other on his pursuers, he backed further away into the alley of vendor tents, seeing his text still hadn’t gone through to Eva. It was close though. The platform with Emily’s production team was directly behind him, and Nash felt some grim satisfaction when he remembered that he’d left one final present for Emily to remember him by.
She would know how he felt about her in the end.
Nash glanced behind him to get his bearings and jumped back when he saw Lynch. The man’s hand was firmly clamped over the one person who had run Nash’s thoughts ragged with worry over her since they’d crossed paths. This was the woman outside of Lynch’s office on that fateful day. The pregnant woman. He stared at the two of them, stunned. She looked far from excited to be with Lynch. In fact, Nash had the sense that she was horribly distraught. Her eyes lifted and their gazes met.
Her chin snapped up in surprise. Lynch caught sight of Nash too, and he roughly jerked her back, heading away from Nash, into the crowds like the devil was on his tail.
It was definitely not the reaction Nash had expected from a vengeful Lynch.
And still, he had the sense that the woman was in trouble. Forgetting his own self-preservation in his concern, he shot after them. He’d put a fist into Lynch’s nose if that was the last thing that he did.
The moment he stepped in the alley behind the two vendor tents in front of the platform, he was surrounded by Crawley and Stein. Stein shoved him with his shoulder further into the shadows. Crawley’s breath stank as he leaned into him. Just as he’d suspected, they carried guns. Nash steadied himself, his eyes going from one man to the other. “So how’s this going to go?” he asked.
Now that he was sure that Porter was out of the way, Nash planned to go down fighting.
Stein gave a dark chuckle. “You think you’re pretty smart, don’t you?”
“I can’t say that’s my problem,” Nash said. If he had an ounce of brain, he’d have gone along with Lynch’s plan. He smirked anyway.
“At least we agree on that,” Crawley said.
“Lynch appreciates your well wishes on his new arrival,” Stein growled.
Probably not. If things had gone according to plan, Lynch would’ve gotten a nice little confetti explosion in pink and blue all over his desk to go along with the paperwork that Nash had dropped off.
A slow grin somehow made the harsh lines of Stein’s face turn harder. “Real cute—the guys at the office got a good laugh out of that. It’s a real shame it came to this.” His fist went into Nash’s gut.
The man knew exactly where to hit him to make it count, right in the solar plexus. Pain shot through his stomach, stinging through the muscles of his stomach and into his chest. He didn’t have time to fight back before he was stumbling forward.
Crawley grabbed him next and shook him. That was his first mistake. Nash rammed his elbow into his neck, taking Crawley down with him. All the fights that he’d ever gotten into at the rodeos and country dances ran thick through his raging blood, and as soon as he toppled to the grass, he caught Crawley in the face with a mean right hook.
“Oh, no you don’t.” Stein grabbed Nash around the neck while Crawley pummeled him. Emily’s love song echoed through his ears. It seemed an ironic way to die. Nash swung, catching Stein’s jaw and Crawley’s stomach. He wrestled Crawley back from him. Stein rammed a foot into Nash’s side.
Nash grunted out.
“Lucky you’re related to West Slade or you’d be dead.” Stein kicked him again.
“What are you doing?”