32. Gwen
Gwen
“Nash is in his room,” Dad hisses under his breath. “Malachi’s monitoring the cameras in the hall. If he tries to leave before we go for him, we’ll know about it.”
Easton wastes no time and starts to bolt for the door. A man on a mission, while I’m still stuck in shock.
Uncle Gray catches Easton’s arm, and he hesitantly stops but doesn’t face the room. He simply slants his gaze toward Gray’s hand.
“We’re going to go over what my sister found one more time before we confront him,” Gray reveals. And based on that tight tone of his, he’s not a fan of having to do that himself.
“You want to wait?” Easton jerks his arm free and whips around toward my dad, fire in his eyes. The same kind of intensity I witnessed on that island when he came to my defense. “I’m surprised you didn’t go to his room before coming here. And that he’s not already in a body bag.”
Not gonna lie. I am, too. Dad doesn’t have a reputation for going easy on the men in my life, let alone anyone who’s a threat.
“Carter’s request,” Dad snaps out. “One I’m not a fan of following, trust me.”
I’m still trying to wrap my head around how Easton and I went from partially crossing that forbidden line together to this in a matter of minutes. I step forward, wringing my hands together.
Gray’s eyes briefly cut to me, zeroing in on the logo on my shirt, as if just now realizing I’m wearing Easton’s tee. My lip gloss is clear and hopefully not visible on Easton’s neck.
Gray’s attention flips to Easton, and he shoots him a what-the-hell look I know neither Dad nor Easton will notice. Because, you know, they’re both stuck in wrath mode.
“Nash is your friend. You two go way back.” I soften my tone when I speak to Easton, hoping to calm him down even a fraction, because my gut is saying something is off about this.
Easton would realize that, too, if he wasn’t always so blinded by his need to protect me.
Carter must have some questions, or he’d have already gone after Nash himself.
“Let’s talk to Natasha. Check the evidence again, okay? ”
I hold my hands out, placating, like I’m requesting him to lower his weapon. The only one he’s sporting is If looks could kill. Not aimed at me, of course, just his old pilot friend down the hall.
“He stopped being my friend the second he helped get you kidnapped,” Easton snarls. “You could’ve been . . .” He shakes his head, letting go of the ugly truth we all know.
“Easton’s right. We need to kill him.” And there goes Dad, losing control and heading for the door.
This isn’t like him. He’s a Tier One operator. A leader.
But right now, he’s a scared and hurting father.
My shoulders collapse as Gray grabs one of Dad’s arms, then asks Easton for help. Dad’s too strong to be stopped without an assist.
“Dad,” I whisper, as Easton, shockingly, gives in and blocks the door with his body. “You’ve got a lot of pent-up rage because of what happened to me.” I move closer, behind where Gray’s still struggling to hold on. “This isn’t you. You’re just upset and—”
“Of course I am,” he seethes, then spins free, turning toward me.
His nostrils flare, and his breathing is ragged.
“I could’ve lost you.” He stabs a finger toward the hallway.
“And he sent those men after you. It’s his fault.
” His voice breaks. “I read his messages he sent to a burner. I don’t care if he was coerced.
He should’ve come to us. Told us the truth. Instead, he—”
“Wait, what?” I stumble forward, confused.
Dad drops his head, hands shooting to his hips as he fights to calm down. “Tash, she . . .”
“Natasha what?” Easton steps in beside me.
Gray’s gaze volleys between us. “She told us privately that something seemed off about Nash ever since he came back today. She couldn’t put her finger on why, so she decided to look into him.”
“He wasn’t on my list to check. I never thought anyone Carter personally hired would be part of what happened,” I say softly, still rocked to my core he betrayed us. “What’d she find?”
“Footage that was buried deep. Someone didn’t want us to see it, but she uncovered it.” Dad slowly looks up at me, a war-torn expression crossing his face. “Someone abducted Nash’s wife the day after Christmas.”
“What are you saying exactly?” Easton asks as I cover my mouth in shock.
“They obviously knew Nash was here in place of Easton,” Gray begins, his tone hesitant, “and they went after his wife to force his hand in helping them. That’s where the burner phone fits in. Nash texted details about Dubai. That’s how they learned where you were going and when.”
“What?” I rasp, lowering my hand from my mouth, only to rest it on my queasy stomach.
“Based on the messages, Nash expected to be going to Dubai, but then he was pulled away on the op with Sebastian,” Gray continues. “That op was probably his alibi.”
“They took his wife?” I still can’t believe that.
“So, he had to save her. That’s why he had to do it.
” I think back to our interaction earlier when he hugged me.
The guilt in his tone, in his eyes. I thought it was because he felt bad about what happened to me, but maybe I misread him.
Maybe it was because of this, and his culpability in it all.
“He could’ve come to us. We could’ve saved his wife.” Dad’s words slam into me, hitting me like bullets, because he’s right. Nash would know that if anyone could help him, it’s our people.
“We assume they held up their end of the bargain and freed her after he gave the intel,” Gray adds. “My sister hacked their home security cameras, and Nash’s wife is there now. Alive and fine.”
“Nash has to be terrified to tell us the truth.” That’s all that makes sense to me. “Carter’s not buying it, though?”
“He’s having a hard time accepting he let the enemy in himself,” Dad says, his voice gruff. “Trusted the wrong person.”
“Nash was our friend, and that kind of betrayal is devastating.” Easton’s tone is more somber than angry this time.
“I’m sure Carter’s trying to ensure Nash really is guilty before we go accuse him of all of this. We know how deepfakes work. Let’s confirm it’s not planted evidence.” My stomach is so knotted up, I might be sick.
“Or maybe we should ask Nash point-blank?” Easton suggests. “Tell him why we think this and give him a chance to explain.”
“That’s what I wanted to do.” Dad spears Gray with a sharp look.
“No, what you wanted to do is kill first, ask questions later.” Gray glares right back at him.
Dad scowls, but I’m pretty sure Gray’s right. Dad’s not thinking clearly.
“Jezebel used the Australian mercenaries. Zoey. Me. Now it looks like Nash, too.” I face Easton this time. “Who else did they manipulate?” A chill races over my skin. “And what do they actually want from us?”
“Screw it. Forget waiting,” Dad begins, already starting for the door. “I’m going to talk to him now.”