Noah's Adventure - 19. The Aftermath

The blast was deafening—violent, disorienting.

Before I could even process the sound, Grandma grabbed my hand.

The world folded in on itself.

Suddenly, we were back in the hotel room.

Grayson and Grace appeared seconds later, both pale but steady. Then another figure materialized near the door.

“Everyone here okay?” the stranger asked.

“I think so,” Grandma replied, her grip still tight around my hand.

“Any idea what happened?” I asked, even though I already knew.

“Tristan,” Grandma and the stranger said in unison.

Uncles Matt and Brody appeared next—Uncle Matt gripping Little B by the collar, his face thunderous.

“You have some explaining to do,” Grandma said sharply.

“I—I—” Little B stammered.

Then he vanished.

“Fuck,” Uncle Matt hissed.

“Miles,” Grandma said, turning to the stranger, “do you know where he went?”

Miles ran a hand through his hair. “Given Tristan’s involvement? Anywhere. Or nowhere. Either way, this is about to dominate the news cycle.”

“That it is,” Grandma said grimly. “I’ll call Nate. Let him know we’re safe.”

She stepped away, already mid-call. Miles vanished moments later—no doubt searching for Tristan and Little B.

Uncle Matt turned on the television.

The image made my stomach drop.

The courthouse was gone.

A smoking crater replaced it, emergency crews swarming the wreckage.

“The blast appears catastrophic,” the reporter said, voice tight. “Authorities are confirming only seven casualties at this time.”

Only seven.

“The identities of the victims have not yet been released,” she continued. “The courthouse had a full docket, and officials are still accounting for everyone.”

“I bet I know who they are,” I muttered.

Uncle Matt sat beside me and pulled me into a sideways hug. “You’re going to be okay.”

I wanted to believe him. But there was still a bounty on my head—and now a panicked senator with something to hide.

Grandma returned with Shiloh.

He ran straight to me, wrapping his arms around me like he’d never let go.

“I saw the news,” he said, his voice breaking. “I thought you were gone.”

“It’ll take more than a blast to kill me,” I said lightly, forcing a laugh.

Uncle Matt shifted so Shiloh could sit beside me—well, mostly on me.

Grandma paced the room, muttering to herself.

Grace crossed over and sat. “Judge Hopkins wasn’t harmed.”

That stopped Grandma cold. “He wasn’t there?”

“That’s what my contacts are saying. Apparently, he was home.”

Grandma’s eyes narrowed. “Are you certain?”

“Yes.”

Before anyone could respond, Uncle Ted appeared.

“Sis,” he said, grim, “the Senator is gone.”

“Dead?” I asked. At this point, it wouldn’t have shocked me.

“No. His Chief of Staff said he fled early this morning after receiving a text.”

“The bastard ran,” I muttered.

“Paul must have warned him,” Grandma said. “So no—this isn’t ending anytime soon.”

“I’m afraid not,” Ted replied. “The Bakers were trying to make a name for themselves. They aligned with the wrong people.”

Grandma sighed. “Let me guess. Cartels.”

“And several other well-known crime rings.”

“Have our contacts at the DEA been informed of Noah’s connection?” Grandma asked.

“Yes. The appropriate people have been notified. Ron’s been alerted as well—he’ll stay vigilant.”

“Good,” Grandma said tightly. “Because this is becoming a mess.”

Suddenly, Miles reappeared.

“Megan,” he said, tense, “we have a problem.”

Grandma turned slowly. “What problem would that be?”

“The family has gone into protective mode. They’re hiding Little B. And Tristan has vanished.”

“Of course he has,” Grandma said bitterly. “He’s dead.”

“I’m doing everything I can,” Miles said, “but I’m hitting resistance.”

Grandma’s face drained of color.

“That means only one thing,” she said quietly. “Tristan still has sway.”

“Not over everyone,” a voice said.

Another figure appeared.