Chapter 917
Uri's screams grew more desperate, but Jackson stood his ground.
Gemma, still worried about Uri, clenched her jaw and gave in.
"Alright, fine. But you gotta drop all your weapons before you come in! I'll be watching you! If I see anything fishy, I'll hurt your son right away!"
Gemma's sharp voice echoed, and Jackson felt a bit of relief. He immediately stretched out his arms and dropped his gun.
He took a step forward, and Harry quickly followed, tense. "Mr. Frane! You can't go in there, she's nuts!"
Jackson glanced back at Harry, and with a silent exchange of looks, they both understood the next step of their plan.
"Stand back!" Jackson ordered firmly.
Harry reluctantly stepped back, and Jackson walked towards the villa, taking off his suit jacket and raising his hands to show he had nothing hidden.
Seeing that he was indeed unarmed, Gemma allowed him to enter.
As soon as Jackson stepped inside, a cold gun barrel pressed against his temple.
It was the assassin.
Jackson's expression remained calm as he walked towards Gemma, as if he were taking a stroll, completely unfazed by the gun threatening his life.
He approached Gemma. "The helicopter will be here soon. Let me see my son."
He extended his hand towards Gemma, his gaze fixed on Taylor's small face.
Gemma lifted the gun from Taylor and aimed it at Jackson's chest, her voice cold.
"Don't try anything funny. Sit over there and behave!"
Jackson didn't move, raising an eyebrow.
"I'm already in your hands, with two guns pointed at me. What could I possibly do? I just want to make sure my son is okay. There's no need to be so nervous."
Jackson's words were met with a cold laugh from Gemma.
"Your son is fine, don't worry. As long as Mr. Frane lets us leave safely tonight, your child will be crying and playing tomorrow."
There was no way Gemma would hand Taylor over to Jackson. He was her guarantee. She knew there were likely snipers hidden all around. One wrong move, and her head would be blown off.
She signaled the assassin with a fierce look.
The assassin pressed the gun harder against Jackson's temple, the cold barrel digging into his skin.
Jackson had no choice but to look away from Taylor and walk towards the sofa as they wanted.
About ten minutes later, the loud sound of a helicopter landing could be heard outside.
Gemma immediately signaled the assassin, who used the gun to make Jackson stand and move towards the window.
Jackson complied, and soon, the voice of a police officer could be heard outside.
"The helicopter you requested is here, parked at the lakeside plaza."
"Have them carry Uri into the helicopter, then everyone else must leave the area!" Gemma peeked out from behind Jackson.
The helicopter was indeed at the plaza, not far away. Seeing it, Gemma breathed a sigh of relief.
She ordered Jackson, and he called out to the officers outside as she instructed.
Gemma watched as two officers carried Uri towards the helicopter.
The light soon obscured their figures as they loaded Uri into the helicopter and quickly retreated with everyone else.
The outside fell silent, and Gemma signaled Jackson to go out first. She held Taylor in the middle, with the assassin at the rear, gun ready.
They walked out of the villa and moved towards the helicopter.
Gemma was naturally wary of an ambush, but nothing happened as they approached the helicopter.
Seeing the helicopter up close, Gemma's eyes lit up. She had no intention of taking Jackson with them.
One hostage was enough, especially with Taylor from the Frane and Kelly families.
She coldly addressed Jackson's back. "Don't follow us. As agreed, put Ruby on the helicopter! Otherwise, don't blame me for what happens to your son!"
Jackson's voice was hoarse. "Don't do anything rash. If Taylor loses even a hair, I swear I'll hunt you down, no matter where you go."
Gemma sneered but was still wary. She didn't want to provoke the Frane and Kelly families any more than necessary.
She glanced inside the helicopter. It was clear, with only Uri lying in the back, covered in blood and seemingly unconscious.
Gemma, eager to leave, ordered Jackson.
"Turn around!"
She directed Jackson to take a few steps forward, holding Taylor and backing towards the helicopter.
"Mr. Frane, thank you for your cooperation."
Gemma mocked, signaling the assassin to take the pilot's seat, ready to board with Taylor.
A triumphant smile spread across Gemma's face, but then a barely audible sound rang out.
At the same time, Gemma's body stiffened, and she fell forward, releasing Taylor.
As Taylor fell, Jackson moved like lightning, diving to catch him safely.
Gemma lay on the ground, a bullet hole in her forehead, blood oozing out. Her eyes were wide open, a rigid smile on her lips, looking eerily strange.
Even in death, she didn't know how she had died.
The assassin reacted quickly, realizing the problem lay with Uri in the helicopter.
It wasn't Uri, but someone similar in build, wearing his clothes.
The assassin dodged the bullets from the helicopter, then turned and fired at Jackson.
Jackson, holding Taylor, rolled to avoid the shots, but felt a sharp pain in his shoulder.
More gunshots followed, and the assassin fell heavily to the ground, lifeless.
"Quick, get a doctor!"
"Mr. Frane! Hurry, Mr. Frane is hurt."
Shouts erupted as people rushed in from all directions, filling the area with chaos.
Jackson, however, focused solely on Taylor in his arms.
Despite the commotion, Taylor seemed unaware, breathing normally, as if just asleep.
Three hours later.
Airport.
Lillian hurriedly ran out of the arrival gate, her eyes immediately catching the tall figure standing at the front of the crowd.
Jackson's familiar, handsome face broke into a smile as their eyes met, and he stepped forward to greet her.
Lillian's eyes reddened, and she sprinted towards Jackson. Seeing her slender figure rushing towards him, Jackson instinctively opened his arms.
"Mr. Frane, your shoulder..."
Terry, following behind Jackson, noticed the scene, and his gaze fell worriedly on Jackson's right shoulder, reminding him with concern.
Jackson ignored him, his lips pressing into a thin line of displeasure.
Terry fell silent and took a step back.
Lillian reached Jackson, not slowing down, and threw herself into his arms.
The impact made Jackson stagger back a step, his brows furrowing slightly, but he held Lillian tightly.
Responding to her overwhelming emotions, he spoke softly, his voice gentle.
"From now on, our family will never be apart, okay?"
Breathing in the familiar, comforting scent of Jackson, Lillian lifted her head from his embrace, her eyes red and glistening as she looked at him.
She nodded vigorously, needing reassurance.
"Is Taylor really safe? Is he really okay?"
She clutched Jackson's arm, even though she had received his call while still on the plane, informing her that he had successfully rescued Taylor.
Lillian had cried tears of joy then, but now she still felt anxious and unsettled.
Jackson understood her feelings, kissed her slightly reddened eyelids, and smiled.
"Of course, Taylor is fine. He's waiting for us at the hospital."
Hearing his confirmation again, Lillian's lips curved into a smile. She grabbed Jackson's hand and started pulling him.
"Then what are we waiting for? Let's go, I need to see Taylor right away."
Jackson wasn't prepared for her sudden tug, and his right arm was pulled sharply, causing him to grunt in pain.
Lillian immediately sensed something was wrong and stopped, turning to look at him.
"What's wrong?"
Seeing his pale face and strained expression, Lillian's expression changed.
"Are you hurt?"
Jackson smiled gently, trying to reassure her. "It's nothing, I..."
Terry, watching from the side, couldn't hold back. He thought Jackson should stop pretending everything was fine and use this moment to gain Lillian's sympathy.
Terry quickly interjected, "Mrs. Frane, Mr. Frane is injured, it's a gunshot wound. He just had the bullet removed, and the doctor didn't want him to leave the hospital bed. But Mr. Frane was worried about you and insisted on coming to pick you up!"
Lillian's heart clenched, and her face turned pale despite Jackson standing right in front of her.
She frantically scanned Jackson's body, her voice trembling.
"You were shot? Where? Why didn't you tell me? I didn't need you to come get me! What were you thinking?"
She was clearly scared and upset, tears instantly streaming down her face.
Jackson sighed, pulling her close again. "It's okay. I'm fine. I just wanted to be here for you. Let's go see Taylor, alright?"
Lillian sniffled, nodding as she wiped her tears. "Okay, but you're going back to the hospital right after."
Jackson chuckled softly. "Deal. Now, let's go see our boy."
Jackson, though he appreciated her concern, felt a pang of guilt seeing her cry.
He shot Terry a cold look before pulling Lillian into his arms, soothing her.
"I'm fine, it's just a small wound."
"Small wound? There's no such thing as a small gunshot wound. Where exactly are you hurt?"
Lillian started unbuttoning Jackson's shirt, pulling it out of his pants to check.
Jackson grabbed her wrist firmly, meeting her tearful eyes with his deep, helpless gaze.
"Lillian, not here."
He leaned down, whispering in her ear.
"I'll let you see and touch it all when we get home, but not now."
Lillian, flustered by his words, felt embarrassed and angry, especially noticing people around them watching.
But she couldn't care about that now. She glared at Jackson.
"I'm not playing around. Where are you hurt? It better not be..."
Seeing her gaze drift lower, Jackson's stomach tightened.
He couldn't let her continue guessing and checking, so he covered her eyes with his hand, speaking firmly.
"My right shoulder. It's nothing serious. Don't listen to Terry's dramatics."
Lillian, relieved it was his shoulder, but still worried, pulled his hand away, frustrated.
"If your shoulder is hurt, you shouldn't be moving around! Don't move, I'll help you."
She carefully supported Jackson's arm, guiding him to walk.
Jackson felt like he had aged thirty years, but seeing her worried expression, he couldn't help but feel touched.
He smiled, letting Lillian help him as they walked slowly outside.
In the car, Lillian knelt beside Jackson, leaning over to check his shoulder.
She wanted to see if it was bleeding.
Jackson knew she wouldn't be at ease until she saw for herself, so he leaned forward slightly, allowing her to look.
Lillian quickly found the thick bandages wrapped around Jackson's shoulder.
There was no visible blood, but she imagined the painful wound beneath the bandages.
It was a gunshot wound; it must hurt terribly.
Lillian silently adjusted his collar, then wrapped her arms around his neck, not saying a word.
Her breath on his neck made Jackson feel a mix of ticklish and soothing sensations.
His throat moved as he spoke, his voice resigned.
"Sweetheart, are you worried about me or trying to torture me?"
He couldn't tell anymore.
Lillian, feeling upset, was surprised Jackson could joke. She let go, punching his chest lightly, and spoke harshly.
"I told you not to get hurt, and you still did! You're so stubborn. Did you get hurt on purpose just to make me worry?"
Jackson's lips moved, but before he could speak, Lillian glared at him.
"Shut up! You definitely did it on purpose!"
Though she sounded angry, her concern and love were clear in her eyes and words.
Jackson's heart softened, his gaze deepening with affection.
Looking at her and thinking of Taylor sleeping in the hospital, he felt it was all worth it.
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