Bridge of Lies Read online

  Bridge of Lies

  Nana Malone

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Bridge

  Chapter 2

  Emma

  Chapter 3

  Bridge

  Chapter 4

  Emma

  Chapter 5

  Bridge

  Chapter 6

  Bridge

  Chapter 7

  Emma

  Chapter 8

  Emma

  Chapter 9

  Emma

  Chapter 10

  Bridge

  Chapter 11

  Emma

  Chapter 12

  Emma

  Chapter 13

  Bridge

  Chapter 14

  Emma

  Chapter 15

  Bridge

  Chapter 16

  Emma

  Chapter 17

  Bridge

  Chapter 18

  Bridge

  Chapter 19

  Emma

  Chapter 20

  Bridge

  Chapter 21

  Emma

  Chapter 22

  Emma

  Chapter 23

  Bridge

  Chapter 24

  Bridge

  Chapter 25

  Bridge

  Chapter 26

  Bridge

  Chapter 27

  Bridge

  Chapter 28

  Emma

  Chapter 29

  Emma

  Chapter 30

  Emma

  Chapter 31

  Bridge

  Chapter 32

  Bridge

  Chapter 33

  Emma

  Chapter 34

  Bridge

  Chapter 35

  Bridge

  Chapter 36

  Emma

  Chapter 37

  Emma

  Chapter 38

  Bridge

  Chapter 39

  Emma

  Chapter 40

  Bridge

  Chapter 41

  Bridge

  Chapter 42

  Emma

  Chapter 43

  Bridge

  Chapter 44

  Emma

  Chapter 45

  Emma

  Chapter 46

  Bridge

  Also from Nana Malone

  Nana Malone Reading List

  One

  Bridge

  When I was a child, my mother always told me that guilt was a useless emotion. Maybe that contributed to my complete numbness even as I knew what was happening to Emma in that moment while I sat there with the lads.

  I should be angry with myself, maybe remorseful even, but that dark cavern that resided where my heart should have been was shuttered and surrounded in concrete now.

  And that was her doing. Because of her fucking choices. Not mine. What was happening to her now was merely the consequence of her actions.

  Even as I forced my brain to process that, to compute it, to compartmentalize, I knew it was bullshit. Because even knowing she'd betrayed me, it was difficult to cause her harm or pain. It was tearing me apart knowing that she would be scared. Knowing the terror that would be ripping through her body.

  Shut it off. She's working with your father.

  That was betrayal, not love.

  Still, I was fidgety. Jumpy. I couldn't sit still. And the fact that I had to sit through this bloody meeting was not ideal.

  Not ideal? Are you kidding? You kidnapped Emma, and you’re pretending everything is fine.

  To be fair, I hadn't kidnapped her exactly. It was more like putting her in protective custody.

  Uh-huh. She won’t see it like protective custody. It sure feels like kidnapping to her.

  Bollocks! Bloody fine. I'd crossed the line. And the problem was, as much as I wanted to muster a feeling of guilt or remorse about kidnapping her, I really couldn't find a fuck to give. At least she was safe, and I intended to punish her for what she'd done to me.

  My man, you're going a little off the rails.

  East, the more perceptive of my mates, leaned over. "Mate, what the fuck is wrong with you? Are you on something?"

  The fuck? "No, I'm not. I'm just eager to get back to Emma."

  He smirked at me. "Man, the two of you, in love, I don't want to know about it. But you look happy. In fact, you've been almost smiling for ages now."

  I lifted a brow. "Almost smiling?"

  He nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, slight tilt. Just there." He pointed to the corner of my lip, and I scowled at him.

  "If you don't get out of my face…"

  With a chuckle, he sat back. "For someone who's so blissfully in love with his new wife, what's going on? Almost smile or not, you’re bloody tense."

  "Nothing."

  He lifted a brow. "You're going to have to tell us eventually."

  "In that case, I guess we'll wait until eventually. We have fucking work to do."

  Middleton chose that moment to stroll in the side entrance. We'd gone to a restaurant on the edge of Mayfair. Some random fusion place. It was great food though. It had a waiting list a mile long and a crowd outside always trying to get lucky, hungry to see who was there. We were in the private room at the back. Lots of people used it for meetings.

  A few of the younger Elite members had started to frequent the place, and it had become like a clubhouse now. I didn't care for it much. It was trying too hard. Too pretentious. It was elegantly done but almost as if it was completely catering to a very specific niche that had no soul.

  "Gentlemen." Middleton strolled over with a plastic smile on his face that I wanted to beat off. Instead, we all stood and shook hands.

  "Not all of us.” I gripped his hand a little too hard. “But you wanted to meet, so here we are.”

  Ben slid me a glance that said, Shut the fuck up. What is wrong with you?

  He knew what was wrong with me. Why was he acting like he didn't?

  Francis had a wider grin for Ben. "You know, I'm glad we could do this in an informal manner. Obviously, I know the Zicks merger went through. Congratulations on that."

  Ben shrugged. “We worked hard for it. Fredericka is a great business partner. I'm not surprised she handed over the reins and went off to enjoy her later years in life."

  He lifted a brow. "Right. Well, anyway, let’s talk. I don't want to waste anyone's time."

  "Wouldn't that be a change?" I muttered.

  Again, Francis lifted a brow, and Ben looked like he had murder on the brain.

  "Right. So Zicks…” Francis continued. “They notoriously have had a difficult time retaining a communications expert. Their branding is disjointed. They’ve had a few customer crises over the years. All in all, they have maintained, but I think they need to be updated and modernized. The brand has partnered with you, and I know you have your own team. But I would be honored if you would let me handle the Zicks account. I know how to bring them and their hotel brand out of the Middle Ages. They stand for luxury, but it feels antiquated, and we have to update that. We have to bring it into the future while keeping the things that we love about the past. Middleton Communications is the firm to do that. We are brothers. It helps us all to keep business within the family, so to speak."

  Every time he opened his mouth, I wanted to pop him. "So you wanted to speak to us outside of the normal selection process?"

  Middleton grinned at me and sat back, steepling his fingers. "Yes, I did. There are ways things are done for the everyday people, and there are ways things are done between the Elite. You know I have the goods to deliver. My client list speaks for itself. Several Elite companies all use Middleton Communications. It's actually shocking that London Lords does not."

&
nbsp; Ben smiled. A lesser man would see that an as off-table agreement. "We've always liked to stay independent."

  Middleton shook his head. "As dangerous as the Elite are, we are a unit for a reason. We provide protection for each other. I know you’ve taken care of your communications in-house. And I understand that. But just think what I can provide for you."

  He was really laying it on thick. Making his pitch. Once he saw me scowling at him, he turned his pitch mostly to East and Ben. I wasn't sure why he thought they were the easier targets, but it was probably because it didn't look like they might actually know murderers.

  On the surface, I looked like them. Polished. Poised. But he must have sensed something else under my skin. Maybe exactly how many fucks I did not have left to give? Because he stopped pitching to me. He probably saw the danger in that and focused on my mates. But what he didn't realize was that Ben and East were just as ruthless as I was. The lengths we each would go to in order to protect our family. The things we were willing to do to burn down the house of everyone who had hurt anyone we loved. I just wore my thirst for vengeance on my face. Them, not so much.

  "This is just a formality, really."

  Ben leaned forward, wide grin in place. "Well, it’s a little more than a formality. Brother or no brother, you're going to have to submit your proposal like everybody else. You recognize Labor has been up our ass, right? Everything needs to appear fair and neutral."

  His brows dropped. "Are you fucking serious?"

  Ben nodded. "While we are brothers, and sure, Elite men stick together, I just happen to be familiar with what Fredericka Zicks expects. She asked us to send out requests for proposals to make sure we're keeping this equitable, and that was just one of her many requests."

  I couldn't help it then. A smirk tugged at my upper lip. He was seeing now that we weren't going to roll over and just give it to him. We were going to make him do the work, and there was an off chance we might say no. And he had never in his life had anybody tell him no. I watched with contempt as Middleton walked out.

  When he was gone, it was Drew, not Ben, who spoke first. “Are you out of your goddamn mind, Bridge?”

  “I don’t know what you’re on about.” Which was bullshit, and we all knew it. I’d been deliberately antagonizing Middleton and had nearly tipped our hands.

  My gaze went to Ben's. He just lifted his brow. East was scowling. Drew… Well, Drew was uncharacteristically sober. “You hate him. We’ve got it.”

  “It’s not him, or rather, it’s what I had to do because of him.”

  Ben's brows lifted. "Mate, what happened?"

  East was hot on his heels. "Who do we kill? I prepped my gear, just in case."

  He, in fact, did have a duffel with him. And while it would have amused me to no end if he had murdering gear for real, I knew full well it was just his laptop and a portable modem in case we needed to hack something. That was how East murdered… With hacking. Sometimes I really wanted to hug my best mates. "Unfortunately, you would have to kill Emma."

  All three of them stared at me. "What?"

  "I just caught her having a clandestine meeting with my father this afternoon."

  Drew chuffed a laugh. "You're not serious."

  Ben's response was more measured. "Why? That doesn't make any sense."

  And East… Well, he just had a string of curses to offer. The fucks and the bleeps and the twats and the cunts. It was a very long sailor's passage.

  "I saw her myself. The good news is, she didn't look happy about it. The bad news is, she was meeting with him. So yeah, now I have to punish my own wife."

  All three of them exchanged glances as if even talking about punishing Emma wasn't on the approved list of things to do.

  "Stop looking at each other like that. That's a full-on betrayal."

  East tried to reason with me first. "Mate, I get it, but maybe you should talk to her and find out what's going on before you jump to conclusions."

  "Oh yeah, like I talked to Mina? Remember her? Planted by my father?"

  "No. I hear you, but Ems is different. She's one of us. Toby died."

  The anger I normally kept a tight leash on lashed beyond my reach as I exploded. "You think I don't fucking know that? You think I didn't love Toby like he was my brother? You think it’s easy to see my fucking wife in cahoots with my father?" I was screaming so loud I was vibrating.

  Drew’s brows furrowed. "Mate, this is Ems. She wouldn’t do that to us. Besides, so she met with him. What’s the big deal?"

  Ben just lifted his brows and his eyes widened as he stared at Drew. "Mate, how are you so fucking oblivious? He's in love with her."

  Drew blinked in surprise and stared at me. "I know. What’s the problem? This is Emma. We know her, so there has to be a good reason for this. She loves the git."

  Hearing him say the words sliced through me. It clearly wasn’t true. "No, mate. She doesn’t love me. I love her. Or at least I did until I found out she’s a plant for my old man."

  He shook his head. "You’re wrong about this. But let’s fix the problem then we can work on your fucked-up relationship. What are we going to do?"

  East shook his head. "We can't hurt her. It's not what we do. And it's fucking Emma."

  "Oh, you can stop worrying. She's my wife, and because I love her, my one directive is to keep her safe. But since she keeps putting herself in harm's way and apparently doesn't love me back, I am released from any guilt I felt about trying to control her. So now, it's plan B."

  Ben and East exchanged a look before East asked, "What the fuck is plan B?"

  "Plan B is no more Mr. Nice Guy. She's lucky I love her. She's also unfortunate because I won't be fucked with, so I'm going to make her pay."

  Ben's voice was harsh. "You can't hurt her, Bridge."

  "Oh, I'm not going to hurt her. I'm just going to show her what happens to people who lie to me and betray me. I won't harm her. She's just going to find her circumstances extremely unpleasant."

  Two

  Emma

  Don't panic. Don't panic. Don't panic. Don't panic.

  I repeated the words to myself over and over again as I struggled against the restraints. I was zip-tied, not too tightly but with my arms behind my back. My legs were tied together as well, so mobility was a problem and there was no breaking out. All I knew was that I’d been placed in a vehicle of some sort and we’d driven for a while, at least an hour. And then finally, I’d been carried out.

  When I felt hands on me again, I tried to kick against my restraints even as panic spiked in my blood and adrenaline surged through me. But the more I kicked and panicked, the more depleted I became. And as I struggled, I couldn't scream from behind the tape on my mouth. All I could do was moan and mumble and arch my back. But that didn't seem to faze whoever had me.

  Fuck.

  This had to be Middleton. I’d fucked up. I should have just listened to Bridge and gotten the hell out of London when I could. What the hell was wrong with me?

  But it wasn't just Middleton. He had help. There was another set of hands trying to hold me still. They weren’t hurting me. In fact, the hands were gentle. But I knew to keep fighting, and I planned to fight until I had no breath. I arched and flailed, shoving my head backward, turning it side to side, and trying to make some painful, impactful contact. I wasn't going to do much damage, but at least I was going to go out fighting.

  Are you sure about that?

  When exhaustion started to hit, I paused for breath, and I realized that I was being carried. Brisk, chilly wind hit the exposed skin at my throat and belly. I shuddered as I tried to listen. I could hear lapping water. We were near a river?

  Why are you even bothering? It's not as if anyone is ever going to find you. You should have listened to Bridge.

  Even as I admonished myself, the gruff voices, both British, spoke in low, hushed tones, one telling the other to hurry up and load me. Load me where? God, another vehicle? Were they covering their tracks? We
re they worried cameras had caught them in the other van? Car? SUV? I didn't know.

  How the hell would Bridge ever find me?

  For a moment, I felt like I was weightless. And there were a few seconds of quiet before the terror rushed back.

  Something was shoved over my ears. What the hell? The silence was back, but it felt hollow in a way. I cried out behind the tape on my mouth, knowing it would do no good. But I couldn't help myself. Even as darkness threatened to take me over, I continued to fight.

  Fighting was all I knew.

  Oh yeah, that's our Emma. Fighting where she has no chance.

  We were on a chopper. A helicopter. Which likely meant we were staying in the country. Unless they were taking me to France or somewhere else close enough for a helicopter.

  Jesus. I did not want to die. Not today. Okay, fair enough, not ever. I had not penciled death on my to-do list.

  Why did you ever leave Bridge's side? Why didn't you just listen?

  I could ask myself all the questions, admonish myself all I wanted, but at the end of the day, my problem was how to get away right now. I could figure out all the rest of it when I was free. If I got free.

  When we started to descend a short twenty minutes later, something told me we were still in the UK. Okay, so where? Could I lift a phone off one of my attackers? Maybe if I flailed enough and forced them to put me down, I could reach my hands around and find something, a weapon maybe.

  No. My hands were behind my back. I had to get them in front of me first, which required some flexibility, and I didn't have the room for that.