Miss No One, Mark Ayre [romantic love story reading .TXT] 📗

from her mother's balcony into the sea, almost drowning after being dragged down by her boyfriend—all of this had changed Ana. She was not the same person as a month ago.

Aurora, her little sister, her sleeping beauty, would have been proud.

But today, she couldn't let emotion defeat her. Winston was bellowing. Ana could hear him all the way over at the tower.

She swung the rifle around. The smoke remained an annoying impediment, but it hadn't stopped her finding and aiming for Victor. It didn't stop her from finding Winston either. She got his head in her sights, took a deep breath, and fired.

He moved at the last second, but she still saw him spin and go down. There was plenty of blood, so she guessed she'd done enough even if she hadn't quite hit the bullseye.

Two murders. By now, Ana's hands were trembling so much the rifle rattled against the watchtower's metal railing. She forced herself to take three more calming breaths, then searched for Orion.

He was gone. After Winston dropped, he'd spun and hightailed it. With the rifle scope, Ana managed to find him again, but there was no way she could take a shot. This wasn't a long-range sniper. Every step Orion took, it became less and less likely a good marksman could hit him, let alone a novice. Besides, with the child at his side, there was no way Ana could risk it.

Spinning the rifle, she saw Abbie and Ndidi chasing down the slope after Orion. It was up to them now.

She stood straight, took another breath and looked across the field of battle. She saw the unconscious police detective, the flaming car wreck, the dead Victor.

Her eyes scanned the grass. It took her a couple of seconds to realise what she didn't see.

Darting forward, she put her eyes to the scope and scanned for the location where Winston had dropped.

Soon enough, she found it, but he wasn't there. All that remained was the blood in the grass from where she'd hit him.

And not well enough, by the looks.

Moving away from the rifle, she bit her lip—a nervous habit. Abbie thought Winston was out of the picture, but he had to be chasing down the slope after them even now.

That was what Ana thought.

Then she heard boots clanging on the watchtower's metal steps as someone ascended towards her level.

Forty-One

The plan had been months in the making.

Longer even than Abbie had imagined. When news of the police raid reached Orion and his mother, when they learned Quintus was dead and Rachel incarcerated, mother had taken a long calming breath and turned to Orion, her eldest child.

"We avenge your brother and free your sister. Nothing else matters until that's done."

The planning had started at once. Orion had taken charge of freeing Rachel, even before they knew to which prison she would be sent, even before she had been declared guilty by a jury of her peers. The Beckers could afford the best lawyers in the land, but the evidence against Rachel was insurmountable. She was always going to be found guilty and sentenced to decades in prison. It was unavoidable.

Orion might have considered getting to her at trial, but then everything had changed. His mother had been killed avenging Quintus' death, and the police, tasting blood, had redoubled their efforts to capture Orion. He was forced underground. It was far too hot to consider freeing Rachel for at least the next few months.

But he never stopped planning. He grieved for his mother and brother, but, if he was honest, this was the way he would have chosen the chips to fall if someone told him two of his family members had to die, with the other imprisoned. Abbie had been right to call out what a family unit the Beckers were, and Orion loved each of the three others deeply. But his mother could be strict and frightening. Quintus, six years younger than Orion, was impetuous and often immature. It had not surprised Orion to learn that while Rachel had sensed the futility of fighting and given herself up during the raid, Quintus had got himself killed trying to escape.

Rachel had been only eighteen months younger than Orion, and they had always been incredibly close. He would have given anything to save her. And he had put everything into freeing her.

It had all seemed to be running so smoothly. Orion had the owners of Lucky Draw on side. He had the corrupt police, including, notably, DCI Hammond. Everything was ready. Then Hammond died, and Orion had to find a plan B. Fine. He intended to blackmail Ndidi, but when that fell through, Orion was ready to pivot. The kidnapping had been easy, and with it, the eldest Becker child had achieved his aims.

Not to sound like a Scoobie Doo villain, but he would have succeeded, too, if not for that pesky Abbie King.

Now he ran, the cumbersome kid under his arm, fleeing Abbie and the girl's father. Abbie was right to claim he had nothing left to live for. Rachel was dead. It was over for him, but he couldn't stop. He had to get away, and if he couldn't get away, he had to kill Abbie.

He had his gun in his free hand. As he ran, he twisted and fired. Every second, he grew closer to the cars and to escape. If he got either vehicle started before Abbie put a bullet in him, Orion was sure he'd get away.

He fired again. Then reached the car. At the bonnet, he spun, fired thrice more.

There was a roar of pain, and Ndidi went down. Good.

Isabella screamed. For hours she had barely shown a hint of emotion, but at the cry from her father, she went crazy, lashing out, screaming, flailing her fists and arms.

Bb y chance, she caught Orion in the knee then the groin. Reflexively, Becker released the girl, and she hit the ground. He scooped to grab her, but Isabella was already sprinting towards her father.

There went his