Page 61 of What Remains

I close my eyes, inhale, then force myself to go into the room.

Mya closes the door behind us and gestures to the guest bed. I walk over and have a seat, my restless hands toying with the charms on my bracelet.

“I just want you to know I’m here for you. If it’s too soon to talk, I understand. But I have your back.” She sits by me, setting a hand over her slight baby bump.

How do I explain to her that I’m okay without making her feel bad at the fact she wasn’t after what she went through? We all respond to trauma differently, I know that, but . . .

“I just want to focus on finding this woman before she can do damage with my rig.” That’s the only truth I know. “Diving into work is all I want to do.”

“Of course.” She rests her free hand on my forearm, and I let go of the bracelet. “And we’ll find her. We’ll put an end to this fast. It’s what we do.”

I nod, doing my best to keep it together so I don’t contradict what I just said and expose the storm of confusion swirling around inside me. “I’ll be okay, though, I promise. And Easton, well, he’s back where he belongs, so I have to believe he’ll be just fine, too.”

Only time will tell.

That evil woman’s timer on her mobile flashes through my mind, an unwelcome reminder. And why does it feel like I have a timer over my head?

Counting down until something bad happens.

For real this time.

CHAPTER 20

Gwen

Teeth brushed and dressed in my workout clothes, my keycard and new mobile tucked into my legging side pocket, I’m as ready as I’ll ever be to sneak out.

Opening my bedroom door as quietly as possible, I slip into the living room, tiptoeing past Dad asleep on the couch.

It’s only four in the morning, but I need coffee more than I need the extra rest. And since turning on my Nespresso machine would wake Dad, my only option is the café on the first level. They’re not open for another two hours, but I’ve been known to pop in and make myself a latte a time or six.

I miraculously manage not to disturb Dad or spend too much time fixating on my main box sitting lonely on my desk, and ease into the hallway. The service lift deposits me into the lobby, where it’s calm and dim at this hour. I suppose I’m safe to roam around even though someone staying here could be in on what happened.

Chills slip across my skin at that thought, but the nerves evaporate as soon as I spot the head of security. Malachi has become part guardian, part great-uncle since he joined us. When Elaina was here for Christmas and they met for the first time, she rested her hand on his and just quietly stared at him before whispering, “Your name means messenger or angel of the Lord.” Apparently, she doesn’t need prophetic visions to get a read on people, or to know random things about them.

Guilt about lying to her, and the fact she needs security now, is about to smack me in the face again, but Malachi—who, heck, maybe is an angel—strides over, distracting me.

He pulls me in for a hug, one that could double as a chiropractic adjustment. He may be in his sixties, but the man is as strong as most guys half his age. “How are you holding up?”

I step back and shrug. He doesn’t need a verbal answer. He can easily read me. He was one of Carter’s commanding officers from his Army days. Carter talked him into heading our security team after he retired spring of last year, and I’m pretty sure Malachi’s been assessing me with his military-grade truth radar ever since—especially after the helo crash, always ensuring I’m eating healthy and keeping up with physical therapy.

He checks his watch, quickly realizing what I’m up to. “Little early for coffee, isn’t it?”

“There’s never a bad hour for caffeine.”

He grins. “Unless you want sleep.”

“Bah.” I wave my hand. “Who needs that?” Me, actually, my inner voice yells. But that bloody voice kept me from getting more than barely any in the last thirty-ish hours since we left the island, so screw her. “I might as well caffeinate my brain if my body refuses to shut down.”

“Fair enough. Just take it easy for me, will ya?” He pats my shoulder before I take off. “Glad to see Easton came home.”

Pausing mid-step, I glance back, giving him a small smile. He knows how much I missed him. I really hope Easton is back for good, though. I can’t survive losing him again.

When Malachi returns to the desk, I set off on my caffeine mission.

I unlock the café and head inside. It’s mostly dark except for the faint glow of equipment in standby mode. The night crew’s prep left the air smelling of fresh ground beans. The scent alone is enough to jar my brain awake.

I navigate by memory, staying in stealth mode as I power up the espresso machine. A sliced bagel goes into the toaster, and I start gathering what I need for my breakfast.