Page 151 of What Remains

CHAPTER 54

Easton

The plane drops hard enough to make it shudder, effectively putting an end to this conversation until we’re on the ground.

“Seat belts. Now,” the captain’s voice barks over the cabin’s speaker. “We’re coming in hot. Fuel margin’s low, and we’ve got rough weather to break through.”

Carter snakes a hand around my arm and leans in. “Get up there with him and help him land.”

This is either payback for my sins or some wild chance at redemption. I don’t know which yet, but when Carter lets me go, I whirl around to look at the woman who gives life meaning one more time. She’s on her feet trying to get to me.

“Sit your arse down,” Wyatt orders, but the stubborn woman ducks under his outstretched arm.

The floor rattles beneath my boots as I meet her halfway, ignoring the danger and everyone on board. If she’s risking her life to reach me, I’m not letting her stand alone.

I hook my arm around her back and draw her close to keep her grounded. Sheer grit and a quick prayer upward will be needed to keep us both on our feet if we stay like this much longer.

“What are you doing?” With my free hand, I smooth the pad of my thumb over the little dimple in her chin.

We’re surrounded by voices and demands, and I ignore every last one of them as Gwen slaps a hand over my shoulder and pushes up on the balls of her feet to get closer.

“I have to tell you something.” Her voice is fragile. Soft and tender and all the things that always do a number on me.

Waiting, I draw in a lungful of air, and with it, I inhale her scent. She always smells like the beach and sunshine.

I asked her why once, and her response was: “When you grow up in a place where it’s always raining, you have to carry the sun with you.”

My fingers curl into her waist as she finally murmurs, “My heart. I don’t need to give it to you.”

What?

“You already have it.

And I can breathe again.

“I need you to know that. I don’t want to die without you knowing the truth.”

Or maybe not. Because what? She’s not dying. No one is dying.

“You’re not dying,” I bite out.

And at this point, fuck it. I kiss her, deep and soulful. Eyes closed. Lips soft but determined. A touch of tongue. In front of her father. Friends. The angels outside this jet, hopefully keeping us in the sky until I can get my ass in that cockpit.

“You gotta get up there,” Carter snaps out as we punch through a storm wall, and the entire cabin rocks.

I break away from her and stand tall, and she’s still staring at me in a daze. “Okay.” She nods. “You can go save us now.”

“Why, thank you.” I smirk. What is wrong with me? Life and death here, and I’m grinning. Only Gwen could do this to me.

I finally twist around, finding her father’s impatient open palm waiting to pull Gwen back to her seat. His eyes dart to mine as he tosses out a quick, “I told you.”

I don’t have time to reflect on his words. Those twenty seconds I stole with Gwen were already too many.

“Anytime now would be great,” Carter mutters, still standing in the aisle, one hand braced on the back of a seat, the other against the ceiling. The man won’t sit until the rest of us are strapped in and safe.

“Yeah, okay.” I wait until Gwen is buckled between her dad and Natasha, then head up front. I swing open the cockpit door, shoot one last look at Gwen, then head inside.

The door seals shut behind me, muting the cabin noise to a dull roar, as the crosswind slams us sideways.