11. Easton #2
“He should know. I created programs the DOD uses that are potentially compromised.” Gwen’s warning cuts right through me. That sense of urgency in her words edges deep down through a couple layers, nudging me in the ribs. She’s going to need her own line delivered back to her: not your fault.
“He knows,” Natasha confirms, her voice soft, but she has to be worried about the potential damage that can be done with any one of Gwen’s genius programs now in the hands of the enemy.
“I just hope none of this hurts his chances to win the primary. I’ll never forgive myself if Grandpa loses because of me, and then all the teams are disbanded.”
“He won’t, and this is not your fault,” Natasha says, emphasizing what I was about to say as well.
“There’s, um, more,” Gwen continues a few seconds later, and that steady-as-a-rock edge in her tone is gone.
“The woman who took me already knew who you all were before I got there. Not sure if she also knew about my charm tracker somehow, or if they were being cautious since they stripped me down to nothing, but . . .”
Wyatt’s going to snap again. I’m right there with him.
“I got your bracelet back,” Natasha speaks up, and I doubt Wyatt can talk.
“It’s not just that. She listed everyone’s names from Falcon Falls, including Mason Matthews.” She hiccups. “E—Easton, of course.”
I wasn’t the only “late-add” to Falcon, and the fact Jezebel also knows about Mason when he only aids us here and there is—
“But she also listed off your—your kids’ names, too.” Those words effectively gut my thoughts.
It’s one thing to come after us. But our families? Oh fuck that.
“She said my son’s name?” Carter’s question is a thunderous roar, and Gwen flinches on my lap.
“She did. You—you need to protect everyone.” Her words sound as if they’ve been dragged over hot coals, and God help me, I hate I can’t do more to help her. “My mum and brothers need to be kept safe, too. Just, um, don’t let them know they’re being surveilled and guarded.”
Carter curses and begins to bark out orders to initiate even more lockdown protocols, ones meant to protect flesh and blood, not the digital world.
“I’m just . . . well, I don’t know what to say,” Wyatt begins as Carter continues to issue commands in the background.
“Thank you for getting to Gwen in time. That’d, uh, be a good start.
Got sidetracked with the hotel and everything else.
” Easy to do, but also, he owes us nothing. “Thank you for saving her.”
“It was Easton, not me. If he listened to me and waited a minute longer, Gwen would’ve . . .” Zoey closes her eyes, probably realizing what she almost revealed.
Too late now. Wyatt will understand. He’ll put the pieces together and lose his shit all over again.
“What would have happened?” Wyatt grits out.
I haven’t had time to replay what I saw in that room, but I’ll never forget it. It’ll haunt me forever. Burn itself into the back of my skull. Because the bastard who hit my sister planned to rape Gwen.
My jaw locks tight as I bite down on my gum hard enough to taste both mint and my anger. “You don’t want to know,” I say when Gwen remains silent. “But we got to her in time.”
An eerie quiet fills the line before Wyatt asks in a low, gravelly voice, “Is he dead?”
Thank the Lord. “He is.”
“How dead?” he hisses.
“I only had five seconds.” I swallow. “I made them count.”
“I, um, know what you’re—you’re thinking, Dad,” she whispers, her voice still breaking. “But we were safe at the hotel. Supposed to be. I don’t know how they pulled it off, but it’s not your fault.”
There she goes again, trying to save everyone from the very thing she’s doing to herself. Blame. Guilt. Things I know all too well.
I slide my hand into her hair as her warm cheek presses against mine.
“Like I said,” she goes on but in a muffled voice, “they know us. I don’t think on a personal level, but they know of us.”
“What do you mean?” I drag my hands down to her shoulders and pull back to find her eyes.
Her trembling lip is all I need to see to understand. I should’ve gotten there sooner.
She catches a tear with her tongue, shaking her head. “You don’t want to know,” she repeats the line I just used.
“Tell me.” Wyatt’s definitely going to snap.
She squeezes her eyes closed and buries her face into the side of my neck again, forcing my hands to shift around from her shoulders to her back.
“The one g—guy said he planned to kill you, Dad. Same one who hurt Juliette.” She turns her face outward, away from my body, presumably so Wyatt will be able to better hear her. “But it didn’t sound like he wanted revenge, more like he wanted to stick it to you kind of thing.”
My blood heats. Every part of me aches. For her. And for a father having to experience this.
“What do you mean?” Wyatt asks slowly.
I swear I’m having an out-of-body experience as I wind up in that room. My spirit hovers over that man’s body as I take the knife to his throat. No regret about what I did aside from not having more time to handle him.
“He wanted to personally tell you he—you know—me just before he killed you. But it felt impersonally personal, if, um, that makes sense?”
I have no idea how she’s capable of sharing this and not stumbling over her words even more than she already is. It’s killing me to hear her relive it.
The line goes silent again.
Wyatt’s coming undone.
How can he not be? I am.
“He didn’t succeed,” she hurries out to remind him as her hands land on my chest. She fists my shirt like she needs something to hang on to.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Wyatt’s voice catches on that last word.
She shakes her hair away from her face, then sweeps her gaze from Zoey to me. “I had two guardian angels, so yeah, I am.”
That’s the last thing I am. Angels don’t get blood on their hands. And tonight, I was nothing but a blade aimed at death.
“You feel safe holing up there until we can get to you?” Carter takes over, and I assume that’s because Wyatt’s probably spinning out. Thankfully, his wife is there for him.
“I think we are,” I finally answer.
“Good.” Carter pauses. “But what I don’t understand is why Jezebel let you work for her if she already knew who you two are.”
“Still processing that myself,” I say. “I’m sure word has already gotten out to Jezebel’s boss about what happened, though.”
“They’ll send someone to clean up the mess before you all can get here. We’ll lose our leads.” Is Zoey trying to suggest she goes back?
“Getting to you all is our priority. Don’t do any lone-wolf shit and head back there. Am I clear?” Carter orders, catching on to her motives fast.
“The only people who can identify that woman”—Zoey looks at the two of us—“are in this safe house. We have no images of her. No video. If I don’t go back there and try and find something, we can’t even—”
“No.” Carter has no choice in shutting her down, but I get where Zoey’s coming from.
We were never allowed to have phones or cameras at the compound.
Jezebel had us thoroughly checked multiple times a day when on-site.
Hell, I had to sneak into town and use a landline to leave messages with my sister.
We have nothing on Jezebel outside what we saw and heard with our own eyes and ears.
“Zoey’s right, though. How’s Julian supposed to run her face through our software to find her location without an actual face?” Is Gwen seriously joining Zoey’s side? So help me if she suggests we all go back there. I’ll fucking lose it.
“I don’t want you worrying about this,” Wyatt speaks up again, his voice still rough. “You hear me?”
Hopefully she’ll listen to her father, because I doubt she’ll listen to me. And after what those monsters did to her, I can’t exactly tie her down to keep her safe. I’d have to be more creative in ensuring she stays put.
“Who else is on the flight with you?” I need to divert this conversation in a new direction when it comes to these two stubborn women.
“Julian and his brother were wrapping up an op in Cairo when I reached out for help, so Gideon’s with us as well,” Carter answers.
“Jesse was in Dubai with me at the time Gwen was taken, but I asked him to stay at my skyrise with our wives and kids. And my security team is helping protect everyone there. We had to move fast on the lead. No time to pull in anyone else.”
“Juliette was a little out of it after getting hit, but she thinks she overheard the men say they were only after Gwen,” Constantine adds, and he must be off the call with my sister now. “She’s relieved to hear you’re both okay. I promised her I’d get you back here soon.”
I nod as if he can see me. I’m clearly out of it.
“I, uh, need to make some calls. I’ll be in touch again before we land.” Carter pauses, then issues the directive, “And, Zoey, don’t piss me off and go back there.”
Zoey quietly hands me the phone and stands. “If you’ll excuse me, I need a minute.”
“Dad,” Gwen whispers, “are you still there?”
“Of course.”
“I love you.” The words hang heavy, almost sacred. Too bad they’ll never be meant for me. “I’m so glad I have a chance to tell you that again.”
He’s sniffling, the poor guy. “I—I love you, too,” he finally gets out, his voice hoarse. “And, Easton?”
“Yeah?”
“Saying thank you isn’t close to being enough, but—”
“I did what any of us would’ve done,” I cut him off before I start shedding liquid emotion from my eyes, too. “No thanks needed.”
“Please just”—Wyatt pauses, another static-filled breath reaching through the phone—“don’t take your eyes off her until I’m there.”
Gwen lifts her chin and looks at me. Her glossy blue-grays wreck me again.
Keeping my eyes on her won’t be the problem.
It’s how the hell will I ever take them off her?