58. Gwen
Gwen
My dad barely slows the SUV before I have the door open.
He shouts out my name, but it’s too late. My shoes hit the ground while the vehicle is still rolling. Gravel slides under my soles as I run toward the smoke and the silhouettes emerging through it.
The headlights illuminate my view, and Easton’s the first one I make out. He’s upright and sprinting, and I meet him halfway.
He tosses his rifle aside and folds me into his arms, crushing me against him. “Hey you.”
I can’t get any words out around the tears of relief. Emotion presses into my throat, making it impossible to talk without blubbering.
“Gwen?” My name is a rough sound on Julian’s lips.
Easton lets me go as Gideon and Tristan approach, supporting Julian’s weight between them. He settles his hand on the small of my back over my coat while dropping his mouth over my ear. “Go, it’s okay.”
I look up at him, my heart rate pedal-to-the-floor fast.
“Go,” he repeats, and gently pats my back twice.
Guilt carries me each step over to Julian.
Gideon and Tristan stop walking, but keep Julian’s arms slung over their shoulders, propping him up.
We only have the SUV’s headlights out here, and it’s almost more blinding than helpful. I have to rely on sound to pick up on Julian’s pain, because I can’t see what kind of shape he’s in. Can’t be good if his brothers are holding him up.
“You found my signal,” Julian says, voice ragged. “I didn’t have time to tell you I finished before Zoey stole my rig.”
Zoey, ugh. I know she’s somewhere out here, but I can’t think about her. There will be time to deal with her later.
“Are you okay?” I ask Julian through tears.
“He was badly beaten by Jezebel, but they’re all superficial wounds,” Gideon shares when Julian remains quiet.
“And Jezebel? What happened to her? Molly?” Easton asks, coming up beside me, his hand returning to my back. I lean into the contact, comforted by his touch.
“I killed Jezebel,” Tristan says flatly. “She gave us no choice, and I don’t feel an ounce of remorse over putting her down. Got two in her cold, dead heart.”
“It was her or us,” Gideon adds casually, like he’s not talking about life and death here. “And as for Molly, she wasn’t with them. From what we forced out of Jezebel before putting her out of her misery, she was never down there.”
The ground may as well have caved in under me. This is supposed to be over. “So she’s still out there somewhere.” I look from Tristan to Gideon before my gaze settles on Easton. “What do we do now?”
“We’ll head to the safe house I already arranged before the police arrive,” Gideon speaks up. “My brother needs medical attention. There’s already a surgeon on standby there.”
Julian pulls his arms free from his brothers and holds his hands out, letting them know he can stand on his own. He limps closer, attention directed toward Easton. “Do you mind?”
“Asking the wrong person,” Easton says dryly as his hand falls from my back.
I meet Julian halfway, and he pulls me into a hug. I’m careful of his back, unsure if he has lashes there, and press my face into his shoulder as he buries his fingers into my coat. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. Better me than you,” he says hoarsely before letting go. “Glad you and the others made it out alive. Thank you for coming for me.”
“It’s what you would have done.” Easton offers his hand, and it feels like an olive branch I’m relieved to see exchanged between the two.
Carter strides over to join us a few seconds later. “Tell me about Camila. What the hell happened?”
I think back to that last-minute call from her, still shocked by it all.
“She ignored your request—or demand, as she called it—from a few days ago, and stopped taking her pills then. She knew it would take forty-eight hours to get the drugs out of her system before she might get a vision. But she took a dose the second I let her know you were all out safely. She’s hopeful there won’t be any adverse side effects like last time since it was only a few days.
” I shrug, because that’s such a Camila thing for her to do. “She said she’ll know by tomorrow.”
“Damn woman, I swear.” Carter shakes his head. “Giving me one more thing to worry about.”
“Yeah, well, you all could have died if she didn’t do it,” I point out, and I refuse to let that thought marinate. “So, how about you thank her before you yell at her?”
Carter gives me a curt nod, then turns back to Gideon. “Tell me what you know about Zoey. I already heard you had to take out Jezebel.” Something in Carter’s voice hints that he has the same question I did about the “had to” part but isn’t overly upset about that result either.
“Zoey was tortured in another room, so I don’t know what was said,” Julian offers. “She was unconscious when she was brought in and strung up next to me. Jezebel began laying into me, demanding my password, too impatient to break through my firewalls to clone my rig.”
Carter curses, his mood foul despite the win we had. And I get it. After all that, it’s still an unfinished win.
“Zoey knew my rig could be tracked, and she took it anyway,” Julian adds, like he’s unsure what to make of that.
Same. “I guess there’s only one way to find out the truth.” I sigh dramatically, more in frustration than anything else. “Ask the source herself.”