Page 34 of What Remains

If my sister wasn’t fine, Carter would’ve already broken the news to me, but I’ll be happy to hear the words.

“She’s good,” my brother-in-law takes over as Wyatt, no doubt, continues to unravel.

It makes sense Constantine would join the mission. Also, I’ll take hearing his voice over Julian’s any day. And damn, I really need to stop this shit. It’s not hate I have for the guy, it’s that green-eyed-asshole jealousy, isn’t it? What the hell is wrong with me?

“Any chance the masked guy who hit my wife is⁠—”

“He’s dead,” Gwen interrupts Constantine. “Easton, um, killed him.”

The same guy who almost . . . he’s the one who punched my sister?

“I’d, uh, have enjoyed doing that myself.” Constantine’s quiet for a beat, then clears his throat as if that’ll be enough to dial down his rage.

Holloway men may not cry, but Costa men? Well, from what I can tell, no one lays a hand on their wives without losing that hand, along with a couple other limbs. All of us seem to have that quality in common.

“Send Juliette my love. Tell her I’m sorry she was hurt.” I’m shocked I manage to get those words out.

I resume rubbing Gwen’s back, not sure if it’s to comfort her or myself. Maybe both. It’s as if I’ve touched her a hundred times before, and it’s the most natural thing in the world for her to be sitting on top of me. Of course, it’s not, and I have enough sense to know better, but I’ll do whatever she needs until her dad gets here to comfort her himself.

“Will do,” Constantine finally answers back.

“Did, um . . .” Gwen starts in a hesitant tone, “you all tell Grandpa about my rig being taken?”

Natasha’s dad may not be Gwen’s blood, but she told me she slipped and called him Grandfather a few years back, and after seeing the smile on that tough man’s face, she couldn’t help but refer to him as that going forward.

“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.