Read Online The Tomorrow Heist by Jack Soren - Free Book Online

place in Tufnell Park, the cool night air helping to sober him up as he ran toward her place. Though it was more of a stagger as he simultaneously ran and dialed Emily’s number over and over.
    This can’t be. It just can’t. She’s too smart for that prick to find—­
    Lew rounded the corner, and Emily’s flat came into view—­or what was left of it. She lived on the third floor. Sometimes Lew would walk by just to see her pass in front of the windows—­windows that were now just boards decorated with yellow police tape. His breath was coming in pants, and he was having trouble making his legs move toward the building. His eyes fogged, and he had to blink the moisture away to see what he didn’t want to see. Then it started building in him, quietly at first, but rising.
    â€œ . . . no, no, no, No, No, NO, NO!” And then he was running, his powerful legs slamming the ground with a thwack they could hear all the way back at The Stag’s Horn. Wind buffeted his long duster coat out behind him as he practically flew through the night’s light rain. He pulled out the key Emily had given him and raced up the stairs. He shot down the hallway and didn’t bother with a key when he saw the door was similarly covered in plywood and police tape.
    Lew raised one leg and smashed his boot into the plywood. The flimsy material splintered under his force, and he was inside. The smell of gunfire and blood was still heavy in the air.
    â€œEmily! EMILY!” Lew called as he searched every room, but he was the only one there. Back in the living room, he flipped on the lights, and his anxiety doubled. Blood was everywhere—­on the walls, the floor, even the broken bookshelf. Lew walked over to it—­the shelf he’d made for her—­and saw a tuft of hair snagged in the wood grain. With a shaking hand, he pulled it free and twirled it between his thumb and forefinger. It was Emily’s. He’d know her hair anywhere. The last time he’d seen it was hanging in his face as she straddled him, smiling and telling him that she hated how much she loved him.
    And that broke the spell.
    Lew howled and started smashing things. First what remained of the bookshelf, then the plywood over the windows. He slammed his meaty fists into the wood over and over, until blood splashed from his knuckles, mixing with Emily’s blood on the floor. Exhausted, he fell down on the ground, his breath coming in hitches. When he’d calmed slightly, he managed to pull out his phone and dial, fighting for control.
    â€œHello?” Jonathan’s sleepy voice said. “What time is—­”
    â€œJ-­Jonny. She’s gone, man. It was George. That fucker took her. I . . .” Lew fought for control, pressing the index finger and thumb of his free hand against his eyes, forcing the tears out so he could see. “I think she’s dead.”
    Jonathan managed to get most of the story out of Lew as he calmed him down. Lew knew that part of his state was from the drink, but that didn’t help.
    â€œNatalie?” Jonathan said when Lew told him about the phone call. “What the hell was she . . .” And then Jonathan abruptly stopped talking.
    â€œJonny?” Lew said, getting up and shaking his head to try and clear it.
    â€œWhere are you, Lew? Please tell me you’re not in Emily’s apartment.”
    â€œUh, well I can tell you that, but—­”
    â€œJesus, Lew, get out of there!”
    â€œRelax,” Lew said. “There’s no way the cops would be—­”
    Ding.
    With the door destroyed, Lew heard the elevator clearly from where he was. And then he realized what Jonathan was getting at. If Canton George’s men had found Emily here, it stood to reason Lew or Jonathan would be somewhere nearby. And if they sat on the place, they might just . . .
    Lew heard footsteps coming