40. Gwen
Gwen
“Don’t tell anyone this is my plan, though,” I rush out before Dad can fully comprehend what I said. “Especially Easton. He won’t understand.”
“I don’t understand,” Dad barks out, on the verge of snapping the vein at the side of his neck. “What the hell are you thinking? There’s no way I’ll let you plead guilty for crimes you didn’t commit.”
“It’s only an emergency backup plan, but these people are several steps ahead of us, and I hate to admit that, but—”
“We’ve dealt with much worse. We’ve never admitted defeat. We will find a way out of this. We always do. You are not to be a sacrificial lamb.” His nostrils flare as his face gets a little red. “Don’t let them get in your head to make you think we’ll lose. That’s not you. That’s not who you are.”
“It’s not like I’ll go to prison prison.
Grandpa and the president won’t let that happen.
But if we have no choice, and I do get arrested, I won’t tell them anything about you or the others just to save myself.
Absolutely not.” I open my palms face up, and my charm bracelet jingles, drawing my eye.
For a heartbeat, I’m back in that lift when I had to toss it before I was taken.
“We can, um . . .” I blink my way up and to the safety of the hall.
“. . . flip the tables on them and do something they’d never expect. ”
“Because we would never let you take the fall. Not ever.” Dad’s fuming. Understandably so. “That’s one thing they’re right about. Not on my life would I let you. If we have to expose Echo Team and the others to absolve you, then so be it.”
I shake my head. How is he not understanding this is the best option if shit hits the fan? I think back to what Carter said about his mother-in-law. “We’ll martyr me. That no-one-is-above-the-law thing can come from Grandpa. Let it help his chances of winning instead of hurting him.”
“Are you out of your bloody mind?” Dad’s eyes bulge.
“Like I said, I won’t actually go to jail. I could fake my death or something—like Julian did—until you get to the bottom of all this and take out the real bad guys, which I have total faith you’ll do.”
“This is not up for discussion.” Dad swipes his hand between us in one wild motion, like he’s clearing a desk of bad ideas. “This isn’t a backup plan, it’s a no-chance-in-hell one.” He shifts to the side and claws at his hair.
Shit. I didn’t mean to make him spin out.
“And if you don’t want me talking to Easton about this, that’s exactly what I should do. That means you’ll listen to him since you don’t seem to hear the word no coming from my mouth.”
“I can’t let you all go down because of me.
” My voice catches as my emotions start to take a toll, threatening to produce tears I have no desire to shed.
“If one of us has to, then let it be me.” I slap a hand over my heart.
“I’m the daft idiot who took her rig on vacation and put us in this mess to begin with, so if push comes to shove, it’s my mess to clean up. ”
His hands go to his hips, and he tips his chin, eyes on the ceiling. “I could use a little help here.”
Who are you talking to?
At the sound of a door opening and shutting behind us, I force myself to turn away from the sad sight of my dad unraveling to Mya on approach.
“Everything okay?” I blink back tears and pull myself together before she gets to us.
“Sorry to interrupt.” Mya holds out my new mobile. “But Julian’s on the phone and needs to talk to you.”
I shift to the side to check on Dad. He doesn’t meet my eyes, but he lifts his hand and nods, letting me know it’s okay to take the call.
I accept my mobile, and we follow Mya back to her suite.
Once inside, I place the call on speaker. “Hey, it’s me. Tell me you have something.”
“No usable CCTV footage where the signal pinged,” Julian cuts straight to it, “but they used the CCTV nuke.”
Shit. That’s both good and bad news. “Well, that narrows down the list of who could be behind this quite considerably. I didn’t exactly leave an instruction manual on my rig, which means he or she has elite skills.”
“Exactly.”
I drop down in the desk chair and Dad remains standing by me, his face still fraught with so many mixed emotions that it hurts me to even look at him. “Just tell me you’ve already used the antidote to uncover what they nuked.”
“I did,” he shares. “Two figures were caught on screen in the location of where your rig pinged. But it was before sunrise, so the lighting there was shit. I can’t even tell if we’re dealing with men or women. They had hoodies on and kept their faces down.”
“I assume you saw them holding my rig?”
“I was able to zoom in to confirm it was yours based on the stickers.”
“The only reason they’d go to the trouble of nuking that footage is to conceal the fact I wasn’t actually there. They’re most definitely looking to nail me for this.” I discreetly glance at Dad, and his mouth draws tight. Poor word choice on my part. I need to do a better job at watching my mouth.
“Looking that way,” Julian agrees. “As for some good news,” he begins, “I know of three, maybe four, people who are capable of understanding our program and also pulling off the deepfakes.”
“Would these hackers you know of have social media profiles? Photos you can send us to look at?” Dad breaks his silence, and I forgot to warn Julian he’s on speaker.
Julian clears his throat and rasps a respectful, “Sir,” to acknowledge him.
“No, they’d never be on social media, but I’ll put together that list as soon as I’m at the hotel and send it over.
” He pauses for a beat, then continues in a semi-somber tone, “Most of these people are like me, and they don’t exactly leave a trail that can be followed. ”
“Yeah, okay, thanks,” Dad replies, voice still thick with emotion. “What about the list of names from the 2011 op Carter texted Zoey before all hell broke loose?”
“Nothing resonated with her. And since I used to freelance for MI6 and Interpol back in the day, I had a look. No one is familiar to me, either.”
Dad nods, not that Julian can see him. “I need to fill in the others. Excuse me.”
I reach out for his wrist and squeeze my plea into him. “Don’t,” I beg, knowing he’s planning to talk to Easton about my backup plan.
He quietly shakes his head like he’s upset with me. Not disappointed, just devastated I would do exactly what he would in my position—sacrifice myself for the team. He pulls his hand away, and my chest tightens as I watch him leave.
“Maybe you all should come back here?” I focus back on the call. “I don’t want them accidentally spotting any of you in London. Especially you.”
“I’m being careful, you know that. I’ve covered our tracks here. I blacked out the footage of us visiting Hyde Park to check where they used your rig, assuming they were watching for us to take the bait.”
“And they don’t have our antidote to undo the nuked footage.” Thank God for that. “Still, I would rather you all come back here so we’re not split up.”
“Zoey’s being a stubborn pain in the ass. No chance she’ll come with us if we go, and we don’t want to leave her alone. I’m still picking up on some strong she-hates-me vibes.”
“She’s just like that.” I smile, forgetting we’re not on FaceTime.
“We off speaker?” he asks a beat later.
I spin my chair to face the screen. “We are.”
He softens his tone and asks, “How are you doing?”
“Well, I’m relieved no planes actually crashed, but I’m terrified of what these people are planning to blame me for next.”
“I’m so damn sorry,” he rasps. “I can’t imagine someone getting their hands on my box.”
“You’d never let that happen.” And that’s the truth.
“If only I’d actually stopped working for five minutes and left my damn rig at The Sapphire before going to Dubai, maybe we wouldn’t be in this situation,” I admit to him what I just shared with Dad in the hall.
“Those bastards wouldn’t have your program you entrusted me with, either. ”
“Not your fault. These people are persistent fuckers. They’d have found another way to get what they wanted. Something tells me their backup plan would’ve involved more people getting hurt. And I know you. You wouldn’t be able to deal with that happening.”
Speaking of backup plans. Do I tell him about mine? Maybe keep that to myself for now.
“I should’ve been there for you, though,” he says in a low voice, and the background is muffled. He’s probably stepped away from his family and Zoey to talk to me privately.
“How could you have—”
“Not in Dubai. I mean before. We haven’t worked together since the accident in August. I was trying to give you space to recover.”
What is he talking about? “You sent flowers. Called and texted. You checked on me. We even danced at your sister’s wedding reception just last month.” I add with a laugh, “Loved your alias, too.” Kinda hard to attend an event when you’re “dead,” so he came in partial disguise with a fake name.
I’ll never forget that dance we shared, either. Or the way Easton showed up while Julian was spinning me, then bolted at the sight.
“Still, I should have been more present,” he continues, voice grave, “and kept a better eye on you like I used to before you knew who I was. I might have seen this coming.”
“You mean when you used to spy on my team to give us a heads-up about who we should or shouldn’t trust?”
“I was only spying on you,” he murmurs, his voice dark.
Oh, shit.
Do you have a thing for me?
The line goes quiet before he rushes out, “On that note, I should go. Be in touch with that list soon.” He ends the call before I can wrap my head around any of that weirdness I’m not prepared to deal with.
“You okay?” Mya asks, and I toss my mobile on the desk and face the room.
I have no clue what to say. I don’t want to tell them about what Dad and I discussed, even though I know they’ll eventually find out. But I could use a break and a little girl time with one of my besties.
“Can we talk?” I ask her, and her brows stitch with worry.
“Of course.” She sets aside her iPad and gestures to her bedroom. Once we’re both inside, she closes the door behind us. “Are we talking about the case, the island, or—”
“Easton,” I blurt out, going with the first thought that comes to mind, because I’d much rather talk about him than the disaster we’re in. “We kissed,” I whisper.
“About time.” I look over to find her bright-eyed and smiling.
It feels good to say it out loud. After everything that’s happened between four in the morning and now, I was starting to wonder if I dreamed up the kiss.
“Soooo.” She sits on the bed and pats the spot next to her. “How was it?”
I have a seat and sigh. “Amazing.” Time to temporarily shelve the conversation with Dad, along with the case, and just be a girl without the weight of the world on her shoulders. Even if it’s just for five minutes.
“With your chemistry, I figured it’d be explosive.” She adds with a chuckle, “Glad you’ve both pulled your heads from your asses.”
I mean, she’s probably not wrong about that.
“He’s being such a gentleman when he doesn’t need to be.
” I smirk. “I get we’re on a case that has me at the center, but still, I want him to”—I curl my fingers into my palms and bring my fists to my chest—“have his way with me, you know? Throw caution to the wind.” I let go of an exasperated breath.
“Why does he have to be so respectful?” I lift my open hand in a placating gesture before she can give me a few reasons. “Kidding, I know that’s a green flag.”
She nudges me with her shoulder. “And you’re used to chasing red ones, missy.”
“I would love to blame Mum and Arthur for those issues, but at the end of the day, I make my own choices, so . . .”
“You’re wise well beyond your years.” She reaches for my hand and lowers it between us, resting her palm on top of my forearm.
“You’ll figure everything out.” She bumps her shoulder into mine again.
“And as for Easton, well, he’s got your feelings and your father’s to consider.
His, too, of course.” She side-eyes me. “But give him time. I bet that man will ravish you when the time is right.”
“Oh to be ravished by that man.” Chills slide up my spine at the thought. “I can only imagine.”
“Like you haven’t already?” she snorts.
“Just a few hundred times.” I bite the inside of my cheek as I remember our kiss. “Dad and Carter could’ve easily caught us making out earlier. Malachi saved us from that.”
“This story is really writing itself, huh?” she says softly. “Pilot falls for the off-limits genius daughter of his friend. The girl he’s assigned to protect.”
“Isn’t Savanna the romance author?” I joke.
“Yeahhh, I should probably leave the plotting to her. But the journalist in me sees a happily-ever-after in your real future, not just in the fictitious one I dreamed up.”
She brings both hands to her stomach. I bet her little bundle of joy is needling her in the ribs again. And why am I now wondering what it’d be like to be pregnant with Easton’s baby?
That’s fast. But wait, we’ve been friends for years. Like he said to me, we built a strong foundation. This isn’t insta-anything. More like a slow burn.
“Maybe I—” I abandon my words when someone knocks twice.
“Come in,” Mya calls out.
The door swings open, and Easton fills the frame, his dark gaze locked on me. His chest heaves with a deep breath, and . . . oh, shit.
I pop up to my feet. “Dad told you, didn’t he?”