23. Gwen
Gwen
The cursor blinks at me impatiently. Like even my computer is judging me for not having my life together.
Jerry is now locked and loaded with all my old programs and tools .
. . but none of my memories. Those stayed backed up and untouched.
I couldn’t bring myself to restore them yet.
Not the photos. Nor the “dear diary” notes I left myself.
Anything personal that woman has her hands on feels contaminated.
So here I am, trying to start from scratch. Build new memories on this stranger of a machine. I’ve got a blank document open in a new font, pretending a fresh typeface will magically make me functional.
But all I can do is stare at the screen like the words might offer themselves up.
My jaw aches from clenching, and I flex my fingers, trying to wring out the tension.
Dear older me, this is your younger self.
“Nope.”
Backspace. That’s not right. Neither are the next four versions I try, each one worse than the last.
Dear Easton,
My stomach does a little somersault at the sight of those two words.
Before I can delete them, my mobile pings with a notification. I haven’t had a chance to sync all my old contacts, but I recognize the number, so I go ahead and program it in before I read the message.
Liam: Your dad told me you got a new phone & number. Just wanted to let you know Elaina is fine. I know you’re going to worry about her, but everything WILL be okay. We’ll figure out what’s going on and put an end to this WITHOUT her or Camila giving up their medicine to try and help.
I actually appreciate his caps. They’re needed. He really is a great dad, too.
I agree on the last part, and I know you, Emily, and your teammates will protect her. I’m just so sorry she’s being dragged into this because of me. Well, because someone wanted something I have.
Had, I suppose. I don’t have my rig anymore. That damn woman does.
Try and distract her from texting/calling me too much, though. I don’t like lying to her. It hurts.
Liam: I get it, and we will. We’re all just so damn glad to hear you’re okay and safe. Thank God Easton was there. And it’s good to know he’s moving back into the hotel where he belongs.
Why do I feel like he wanted to write “with you” after “belongs” but left off that part?
Maybe I just want to hear it.
Thank you.
I sigh and set my mobile aside before staring at the Dear Easton on my screen.
Confused, I shut the lid, slap both palms on the desk, and slowly lower my forehead to the matte-black top.
Maybe I can Jedi what’s in my head straight into the machine and one of my programs can unscramble and make sense of my thoughts? Because I currently feel like I’m operating on software without an encryption key.
“You okay?” Natasha creeps up on me to ask.
“No,” I mutter, turning my cheek to locate her.
She’s by the wall of windows glowing with mountain light.
“Just trying to get comfortable with my new rig,” I admit, finally peeling my face off the lid. “It hums differently. Wrong, you know?”
“You’ll get there,” she reassures me. “Why don’t you come hang out with the rest of us, though. Either in Easton’s room or Griffin’s. We’ve got two teams dividing and conquering, and we really don’t want you alone in here.”
“No other guests can even access this level. I’m surrounded by our team on this floor. I’m safe.”
“It’s not your safety I’m worried about.”
Fair. I stand and sidestep the chair. “Please don’t worry about me. I have enough people doing that.” I toss a hand in the air. “Even Liam just worry-texted me telling me not to do the very thing he’s doing. Worry.”
“Can you blame us?” She combs her fingers through her blonde hair. “I just . . .” Her hands drop to her sides. “This whole thing is my fault.”
Here we go again. No, no, no.
“I suggested the trip. I should have known this would happen.”
“Sure, because you could have predicted I’d be abducted by some psychopath with too much information and untraceable resources?” Guilt doesn’t belong to her, and I won’t let her try and own it. “And if anything, you should know that you actually helped me out on that island.”
She jerks her head back. “Me? How?”
“I channeled your strength to face off with that bitch.” I hate that word, but it’s more appropriate for Jezebel than a female dog. Dogs are nice, and as far as I’m concerned, it’s an insult to use that name for them. Nope, people are nine-tenths of all problems.
She folds her arms, not buying what I’m selling. “What do you mean?”
I don’t want to go back to that island and into the hangar with Jezebel, but I’ll do it if it helps alleviate any unnecessary guilt my stepmum has.
“You’re tough and smart. A total badass.
” I tack on, “CIA,” in a whisper. As if that’s a secret between us.
She’s probably one of the only officers at the Agency Carter will associate with.
He hates that three-letter group, even if he once worked for them.
“I pretended to be you for a minute. And I was able to hold my head up and confront Jezebel and not totally snap.”
Natasha steps around my big-leaf potted houseplant to get closer to me. She reaches for my wrists and squeezes her eyebrows together. “You are strong. Tougher than tough. All those things. You didn’t need to channel me.”
“Tough because I’m Dad’s daughter?”
“No, because you’re you.” She doesn’t hesitate and pulls me in for a hug. “You’re your own person, Gwen.” We’re both quiet for a bit before she asks, “Do you want to talk about what happened?”
“Nope.” That’s an easy answer. “Suppression is healthy. Scientifically proven by absolutely no one.”
She untangles our arms and gives me her best tight-eyed concerned-mum look.
“When I’m ready to relive that nightmare, you’ll be the first to know,” I add before she does another mum move and presses the issue.
Her mobile buzzes, and my shoulders sag in shameless relief for the distraction.
“It’s Ella.” She turns the screen, showing a picture of all the kids together.
“School” is already in session. Of course it is.
“She said she’s going to ask Diana to close down the indoor pool this afternoon, and have it secured so all the kids can swim.” She tucks her mobile into her back pocket. “I think she’s itching to pull Jesse away from the case to have a break, too.”
My shoulders tense up. “This triggered him, huh?”
“From what Ella’s told me, a little. But who can blame him? You even mention a chess piece and your father loses his cool.”
I shouldn’t smile, but I do.
“I did see Easton pull Jesse aside earlier, though. They had a heart-to-heart.” She sighs. “He’s a good man.”
“I know,” I say softly.
“Well . . .” She angles her head toward the door. “I’m going to check in on Ella and the kids before I get back to work in Griffin’s suite. Why don’t you join me?”
“Maybe later?”
“Don’t take too long. Your dad will send someone to check on you if you don’t make an appearance soon.”
“I know, I know.” I smirk, then wait for her to leave before grabbing my mobile from my desk.
I haven’t seen Easton since this morning, and it’s almost lunchtime.
After our shopping spree, Dad had him jump in with the others to hunt for leads while I tried to Frankenstein my Jerry.
Part of me has a ridiculous fear that if he’s out of my sight for too long, the universe will decide it likes him better gone and take him from me again.
I curl up on the couch and text him.
How’s it going? Any leads?
Bubbles appear. Disappear. Reappear.
Easton: Nothing yet How’s Jerry?
You know Tom is the cat, right? And Jerry is not Jerry’ing yet. I mean, he’s ready to operate, but he doesn’t feel like mine.
I glance at my rig. My stomach aches at the mere sight—or maybe it’s because I only ate two bites of bagel this morning.
Natasha said you talked to Jesse. Go okay?
Easton: He’ll be fine. He’s just walking down memory lane, and that can be a shitty place to be.
Don’t I know that.
Are you alone?
Easton: No. I’m with your dad, your new best friend, his brother, Zoey, and Carter. Oliver and Mya are joining soon.
New best friend, huh? I’m faithful, mister. Only one guy best friend allowed. You’re it.
I send a screenshot.
Easton: You texted yourself that from my phone. I would never use the word bestie.
Easton: And I’m not your guy best friend. Girls only have guy best friends they’re not attracted to. My nephew told me that’s a thing.
Attracted, hmm? Ego much?
Easton: Of course. I’m a pilot. You can’t fly for a living without one.
I laugh out loud.
As a kid, I considered all pilots like Superman but without the tights. Sooo I get it.
Easton: One thing you’ll never get me in. Don’t even think about it. The speedo attempt was bad enough.
Oh come on.
Unfortunately, no speedo emoji.
But back to your point, I guess that means we really aren’t besties, because according to Elaina, guys are only BFFs with girls they DO find hot and wish they could be with.
Bubbles start, stop, and start again. Then vanish.
A knock sounds at the door, and I head over to answer it. I don’t bother checking the hall. The floor is basically a vault. No one without clearance is getting up here by way of lift, and the emergency stairways are only accessible to leave, not enter.
I swing the door open and step back at the sight of Easton.
He has one palm propped on the frame, body angled toward me.
He’s wearing the white tee I picked out for him, jeans, and the new trainers.
(He must’ve snuck in a load of laundry between this morning and now.) His hat is on backward, hair long enough now to flip up a little at the back.
A few unruly strands at the front try to escape, and honestly, it should be illegal to look that good with bed-head energy.
When he lifts his head, his eyes meet mine. Deep, dark, and burning.