Page 100 of What Remains

“We assume they held up their end of the bargain and freed her after he gave the intel,” Gray adds. “My sister hacked their home security cameras, and Nash’s wife is there now. Alive and fine.”

“Nash has to be terrified to tell us the truth.” That’s all that makes sense to me. “Carter’s not buying it, though?”

“He’s having a hard time accepting he let the enemy in himself,” Dad says, his voice gruff. “Trusted the wrong person.”

“Nash was our friend, and that kind of betrayal is devastating.” Easton’s tone is more somber than angry this time.

“I’m sure Carter’s trying to ensure Nash really is guilty before we go accuse him of all of this. We know how deepfakes work. Let’s confirm it’s not planted evidence.” My stomach is so knotted up, I might be sick.

“Or maybe we should ask Nash point-blank?” Easton suggests. “Tell him why we think this and give him a chance to explain.”

“That’s what I wanted to do.” Dad spears Gray with a sharp look.

“No, what you wanted to do is kill first, ask questions later.” Gray glares right back at him.

Dad scowls, but I’m pretty sure Gray’s right. Dad’s not thinking clearly.

“Jezebel used the Australian mercenaries. Zoey. Me. Now it looks like Nash, too.” I face Easton this time. “Who else did they manipulate?” A chill races over my skin. “And what do they actually want from us?”

“Screw it. Forget waiting,” Dad begins, already starting for the door. “I’m going to talk to him now.”

CHAPTER 33

Gwen

Nash barely cracks the door before Dad barrels in and slams him against the wall. Nash doesn’t fight back, just stares at him and says, “It’s my fault, isn’t it?”

Gray shuts the door behind us as Dad’s hand closes around Nash’s throat.

Bloody hell.

I’m back in that room on the island. Eyes shut, my palms pressed to my face, my knees buckle as Bodhi’s hand flashes through my memory.

Strong arms catch me, pulling me into a familiar and comforting scent. “Stop choking him.” Easton snaps out the order, his voice is tight.

Dad swears, and from the sounds of a deep inhale and cough—Nash, I assume—releases him.

“I’ve got her,” Easton murmurs, resting his chin on top of my head, keeping me steady in his arms. “Just question him. No hands on his throat. Not up against a wall.”

Dad exhales, shaken up by the fact he shook me up. He has no idea what actually went down in that room. Not his fault at all. I had no idea seeing that would trigger me.

“Thank you,” Dad says, before asking Nash, “why would you do this?”

“I was starting to worry this is my fault.” Nash’s voice is hoarse. “I was going to tell you it might be, but since you’re here and ready to kill me, it looks like it is.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Dad lashes out.

I don’t hear any scuffling sounds, so he must be holding back from physically putting hands on him again. I have Easton to thank for that.

“I thought the phone was safe,” Nash says. “Disposable. Untraceable. I didn’t know it was being monitored.”

My chest tightens.

“I only used it when telling my wife anything Sapphire-related. I thought I was protecting everyone.”

“We know the truth. Don’t⁠—”

“I know you do,” Nash cuts in on Dad.