Page 138 of What Remains

Gwen tucks her hair behind her ears, trying to pull off casual when she’s gotta be far from it. “As to be expected. Losing his bloody mind.”

“Sounds about right,” my sister muses, rocking Illiana in her arms. “Even my son’s nervous, which isn’t like him.”

“For us to do this?” I ask, sliding my hands into my pockets as I turn toward her.

“He doesn’t like you two going out there without him. What can I say? Like father, like son.” She hip-checks me. “You all make a pair. Or, well, one big circle?” She smirks. “Ignore me, I’m tired. Illiana’s been waking up three times a night lately. I think she feels the tension.”

“Shit, I’m sorry,” I say in a hurry, guilt tripping me up.

“No, no, not your fault, either.” Juliette angles her head toward the living room. “Just go say your goodbyes and get back here within a day or two. My worry-battery depletes by hour forty-ish.”

“We’ll make it back in under thirty-six.” And I sure as hell hope I can keep that promise.

I leave my bag behind for now, and we head out of my room and down the hall to find the others. Everyone’s gathered in Carter’s suite like we’re at one big family reunion. Too bad this isn’t the after-party instead of the before-shit-hits-the-fan one.

I make my rounds, ending with Oliver and Mya since they’re both staying behind.

“I hate this.” Mya frowns. “We should be with you.”

Like I said, stubborn women on this floor.

“Sure, sure, you should absolutely go into battle while pregnant.” Oliver rolls his eyes at her.

Mya rolls her eyes right back, then pulls me in for a quick hug. “Keep my girl safe, will you?” She whispers, “Sorry, your girl.”

I swallow, then catch sight of Gwen over her shoulder, mid-hug with Jack’s wife, Charlotte. My breath catches when we lock eyes.

“Does everyone know she’s my girl?” I rasp, barely able to get the words out.

“They do,” Mya murmurs. “Congratulations on being the last ones to find that out.”

CHAPTER 48

Easton

BERN, SWITZERLAND

“Julian’s not happy with the plan.” Not sure if Gwen’s talking to herself or sharing that with us. She’s sitting next to me in the middle row of the rental Suburban with Natasha buckled into the back, and Carter and Wyatt up front.

“None of us are happy with the plan,” Wyatt gripes.

Gwen drags her gaze from the phone she’s white-knuckling and looks at her dad, who’s now turned and watching her.

“Does he have news? Or is he just texting because he has a thing for you and is worried?” He scowls as if he tasted something bad, then shoots me an apologetic expression.

Glad the idea of him liking Gwen makes you feel the same way it does me.

“Dad.” She manages to admonish him without saying more than his name.

He scoffs. “So, you’re going to lie to my face and tell me a billionaire who faked his own death to protect you, and is having a nervous breakdown about you being out in the open, doesn’t, in fact, love you?”

Love.

Fuck that hurt to hear.

“Wyatt,” Natasha yells at him.

“I’m on edge,” he bites out. “Can you blame me?”