Page 76 of What Remains

Those men are dead. They can’t hurt me.

So why does it feel like they could reach through Zoey’s screen like the girl from The Ring and grab me anyway?

“Gossip,” I suggest fast. “Got any good girl talk?” I twist away from the glass and peek into the kitchen as Mason heads over and starts up Easton’s Nespresso machine. “Anything new with him?” I ask, and she follows my line of sight. “He ever ask your sister out?” I blink back to her.

She sighs, resting her hands on her barely showing bump. “I think they’d make a cute couple. But you know him. He thinks it’s too weird that he’s . . . um . . .”

“Been with you both?” I keep my voice low. “He didn’t know you were sisters back then,” I say as if she doesn’t already know that. “Not his fault.”

“Try telling him that.” She exhales, rubbing her belly. “I didn’t even know I had a sister, so.” Her gaze shifts back toward the table, and I follow it to Easton, then to Julian hunched over his rig. “I just want them to be happy. Goes for you too, missy.” Her eyes linger on Easton again. “Do you . . .”

“Do I what?” I ask louder than I meant to, drawing Easton’s gaze.

He removes his cap, rakes a hand through his hair, then swivels it back on, brim forward—his shield against me getting a good read on him.

Mya steps away from the glass door so her back is to the kitchen, blocking my view of the man I know she’s about to ask me about. But then she throws me for a loop. “Are you caught in the same kind of situation I once was?”

Like how you were with Mason? Mason was Mya’s on-and-off-again friend with benefits awhile back—before she met Oliver—but from what I understand, Mason caught feelings she didn’t return. A solid reminder to keep friends firmly out of the sex zone.

If Easton and I ever hooked up and it didn’t work out, my heart would shatter into a million freaking pieces. I couldn’t handle him leaving a second time, especially knowing that time it would be for good.

“What kind of situation would that be?” I ask, fully aware I’m faking ignorance.

She rolls her eyes.

Well deserved.

“I don’t think he’ll ever—” Wait! How’d the gossip talk manage to circle back to me? “As for the other one,” I add quietly despite the shoutiness happening in my head, “I don’t feel that way about him.”

She lifts both brows. “You never said how you feel about the first guy.”

Before I can think of how to answer, I turn to see Carter letting Diana into the suite.

I whisper to Mya, “We’ll talk about this another time. When both men in question aren’t around.” Maybe.

I do my best to pull myself together and become mission-focused again before we rejoin the group that’s hovering around our makeshift command center.

“How are things going?” Diana asks.

Carter slings his arm around her. “Not great.”

“Did you already check whether there’s a possible military tie to the . . .?” Mya doesn’t finish her sentence, and I don’t blame her. Who wants to mention those assholes from my nightmare? She shoots me an apologetic look while placing her hands on Oliver’s shoulders. He reaches back, covering her fingers with his own.

“We did while you were in the living room, and there’s not,” Easton shares, shaking his head as I sit. “The men”—his voice catches on that word, as if he’s having trouble labeling them as anything other than monsters—“have no family in the military. No connections to any of us that we’ve found. Not yet, anyway.”

“But there has to be one. Why else would anyone want to hurt Gwen? To hurt me.” Dad turns his back to me and hangs his head. His hands settle on his hips as his back muscles pinch tight beneath his black tee.

He needs Natasha or one of his best friends from Echo Team here to help walk him back from the cliff he’s staring down. Anger, guilt, blame, and all the things that come with being both a father and a good human being are hitting him hard. I would try and calm him down myself, but I’ll make it worse, I just know it.

Easton knocks the brim of his hat up, giving me a better view of his eyes. He tips his head toward my dad, a quiet ask if he should talk to him.

“Please,” I mouth, and he stands and goes over to him, and Dad follows him into the hall without protest.

“He just needs time,” Carter says once they’re out of earshot.

“Yeah, I know.” I wish so much I could code my way out of this whole feelings thing. Just make it stop. Make all the bad shit go away with the stroke of a few keys.

“I’m just so sorry.” Zoey’s soft tone has me looking at her. “This is all my fault.” She grips hold of the chair’s armrests.