Page 1 of What Remains

CHAPTER 1

Easton

GERMANY-SWITZERLAND BORDER

Only ten steps inside The Sapphire, and I’m already stopping short. I prepared myself for a few familiar faces, sure. But I never expected a man who shares half my redacted history to be here and heading straight toward me.

Gage “Nash” Calder stops in front of me, and I drop my bag in surprise to clasp his outstretched hand. He pulls me into a one-arm hug, then slaps my back twice. “Sight for sore eyes, brother.”

When he steps away, I stare at him like he’s a ghost. He left this life years ago. To have a sense of normalcy where bullets weren’t part of his job description. I drag my thumb along the underside of my lip, trying to process his presence.

“You still think you can outfly physics?” he jokes.

“Physics just needs to learn to keep up with me.” My old one-liner falls out of me clumsily.

His brows pinch, registering my unease, then his eyes flick left and right, subtly reading the lobby the way only someone who’s deployed too many times knows how.

I follow his line of sight. The guy checking in at the front desk? Former CIA, no doubt. The one by the fireplace charming the concierge? SEAL, guaranteed. The third man who’s standing by the wall of glass overlooking the Alps is a question mark. I can’t get a read on him.

“So . . .” he begins after clearing his throat, “what are you doing here?”

That’s supposed to be my question.

A dull thump starts behind my ribs, and I rub my chest as it finally clicks. “Wait.” I swallow hard. “Are you my replacement? Is that why you’re here?”

“For Gwen’s protection?” He makes a tsk sound. “Hell no. I flew some of Wyatt’s SEAL Team runs back in the day. No chance I’m signing up for his daughter.” A shit-eating grin spreads across his face. “No clue how you survived it.”

To be fair, neither do I.

What started out as a request to “keep an eye” on Gwen turned into an unexpected friendship with her, one that hadn’t been easy to walk away from in August. Well, to be fair, I’d limped away with the assistance of crutches.

“But fly for Carter?” Nash gives a one-shoulder shrug. “My wife and I decided to separate.” His mouth tightens around that last word, their breakup still a sore subject. “So, uh, you could say I’m itching to . . . well, get away for a bit. When Carter called, I took him up on his offer.”

I’m off my game. Of course that’s why Nash has been summoned to the hotel. To replace me as a pilot, not as Gwen’s personal shadow. “Sorry to hear.”

He doesn’t offer any details about what happened, so I don’t press.

“Don’t mind, do ya?”

“I’m the one who quit.” Not really an answer, but it’s better than a lie. Because I do, in fact, mind. I mind the fuck out of anyone taking over for me. As lead pilot. And as Gwen’s the one. Like her “the one” who removes her headphones after she passes out while working and carries her to bed. Typical friend-protector duties, nothing more than that.

The idea that someone will eventually replace me makes not only my eye twitch, but my trigger finger, too. I’m not just a hell of a pilot, I’m an excellent shot.

“You’re one of the best pilots on the planet,” I force out, that reminder meant for me. He already knows he’s slick. “You’re also one of three who could’ve landed that bird after—” I cut myself off, no need to finish that thought. The accident is why I’m no longer living here. It’s why I removed myself from Gwen’s life.

“Yeah, well, you’re one of the others. No one died in the crash.”

My hands curl at my sides as I close my eyes.

For a second, I’m in a cockpit instead of a lobby. Instrument lights before me, a steady vibration beneath my boots, and turbines I swear I can hear even now.

Never mattered whether I was going Mach 2 in an F-16 wearing a G-suit or coasting over Kansas farmland in my grandfather’s Air Tractor, airborne has always been home. At least until three and a half months ago. Until my bird went down on that op.

“You can’t blame yourself, man.” Nash’s words slice through the fog of guilt. “But I get it. Taking an RPG to the tail rotor with a woman you’re supposed to protect sitting beside you? That’ll change a man.”

Thankfully, I am one of the few who can pull off the whole not-dying thing. Arrogant? Probably. But that confidence is hard-earned. I’m trained to take off and land anything in the worst conditions imaginable.

Still . . . Gwen knocked on death’s door because of me. Banged damn hard trying to escape this life.