Page 139 of What Remains

“Maybe a little bit,” Gwen retorts.

I lean back in the captain’s chair, settling my restless hands on my thighs while I chew down my gum to practically nothing.

She has to be feeling even worse for Julian than I do. I mean, I would like to kill him, but I won’t. Probably not. Losing a woman like Gwen is a much worse fate than dying. (You know, for real this time.)

“At least we managed to make it all the way here without a second cyberattack happening. And we’re only three minutes from the embassy, so it looks like my plan is working out so far,” Gwen says, doing her best to break some of the tension. “Let’s focus on that.”

She holds her phone out between us. Is she asking me to invade her privacy and read her texts?

Guess it’s not an invasion if it’s an invitation. I adjust my seat belt and lean over to have a look.

Julian: I HAVE A REALLY BAD FEELING ABOUT THIS.

Those shouty caps aren’t doing wonders for me, either. Don’t blame Gwen for being nervous.

I bring a fist to my heart. Now I get why Wyatt’s always massaging his chest when it comes to his daughter.

Julian: We’re missing something.

I know, man, but what?

Julian: The fact Natasha has yet to prove whether Elaina’s texts are being read or her phone was mirrored is NOT good.

Julian: You know what else isn’t good? We still haven’t found Jezebel on any CCTV footage. Not in the last three months. The woman’s acting deader than I’m supposed to be.

I take a second to compose myself (you know, by chewing harder), then read what she texted back.

You haven’t checked the whole globe for the she-devil yet, just the main points of interest. This is going to take time, but we WILL find her.

Worst case, they’ll find me, and the plan works. Not a bad worst-case situation if you ask me.

A new text pops up, and my stomach turns as I read it.

Julian: When Carter told me you were taken in Dubai, I almost died for real. I won’t survive anything happening to you again. I may have faked being “okay” around my family at the hospital after the helo crash, but I don’t have it in me to do it again. Because in truth, I was a mess. I only sent you 1/10th of the flowers I stress-bought.

Based on the angry, bouncing bubbles, the man is writing another paragraph.

He must be voice dictating, or he’s just that fast of a typer. When his next message pops up, Gwen doesn’t have time to pull it away before I read every last haunting word.

Julian: Before you ask why I didn’t tell you this, it’s because I saw what your accident did to Easton, and I already suspected he had feelings for you, so I backed off. Gave you space to recover and figure things out. But it took all my restraint not to track him down in KC and rip him a new one for leaving you. Then my sister’s wedding reception happened, and we danced, and I thought maybe we had a shot. But then Easton showed up, and you went after him. You made your choice. And I respect that. But so help me, he better keep you safe, or I’ll kill him myself.

Julian: And if you’re reading this, Easton, I mean that in the very literal fucking sense.

My hands flex on my lap as I look out the side window. All the intense gum chewing in the world won’t save me from myself—from my own vicious thoughts. I feel like I’m behind a yoke with the nose pointed down, and I’m about to crash and burn.

“E.” There’s that one letter from Gwen again, and it comes out breathy and apologetic.

She owes me zero sorrys. It’s not her fault I had to read the truth. Facts are facts.

Julian died for you. So you could live. He hated me for abandoning you. And he’s right, I did do that.

“You cooled down yet, or do you need to let off more steam?” Is Natasha’s question for Wyatt or me?

“I won’t be calm until this is over,” Wyatt grates out, offering the same answer I planned to.

Gwen catches me off guard by reaching out and resting her hand on my leg, palm up.

That traitorous organ in my chest is beating like I have a chance at redemption. And maybe I don’t deserve her touch, but I can’t refuse it. I’ve already made up my mind I won’t be running again, no matter how hard shit gets. So, I take her palm and gently squeeze.