Page 105 of What Remains

“Won’t be an enemy of my past.”

“How can you be sure of that?” Dad bands an arm around Natasha’s waist, holding her to his side the way I wish Easton could for me.

“Because all of my enemies,” Carter starts, eyes sharp on my dad, “are either behind bars or dead.”

CHAPTER 35

Easton

“You should be sleeping. Nothing for you to do at the moment.”

Not a suggestion from Carter after he finds me in the first-floor café, but I plan on taking it as one.

I do my best to dodge a bullet the size of a semi and maneuver around the man to escape with my coffee and without a lecture, but his deep morning voice—on point with my own at 0400—stops me.

“Hold up. We might as well talk if we both can’t sleep.”

The muscles in my body lock tight, and I exhale a deep breath. Fak.

“Grab a table. Wait for me.” The man can’t help himself. Every other word from his mouth sounds like he’s attempting to dominate a boardroom, or⁠—

Nope, to hell with that thought. “Fine,” I mutter and head out from the back area to settle in at a high-top table.

I should have kept my ass in my suite and had my morning joe there, but my living room couch is identical to the one in Gwen’s, and anytime I glance at it, all I can think about is her on my lap, kissing my neck. So, yeah, I tucked tail and took off down here with plans to be alone.

While waiting for Carter, I swap my coffee for my phone and open to last night’s text messages.

Constantine: Sorry I didn’t give you a heads-up. Didn’t have a chance. Hope you weren’t in the middle of something when W&G showed up to Gwen’s room.

All good. No worries.

That was a partial lie. I’m not sure what would’ve happened between the two of us had we not been pulled away to work the case. Maybe it’s for the better? Divine intervention keeping us from kissing or doing a lot more than that.

I flip open to read Gwen’s messages.

Gwen: When you’re ready, I’d like to finish that interrupted conversation.

Maybe sleep first? I’m not thinking all that clearly.

Gwen: OK

There are three responses she never sends me: a thumbs up sign, K, or OK. Not unless I’m in trouble.

The millennial urge to run to her room at the sight of those two letters paired together had been strong, but then I would have been greeted by her exhausted father. In light of what happened, he changed his mind and decided to sleep on her couch.

I don’t blame him. If he hadn’t declared he was doing it, I might have asked to do it myself. Brilliant idea, I know.

I was seconds away from a lame-ass response to her when she unsent her “OK.”

Gwen: I know you already saw it, but I didn’t mean it.

The fact she understood those two letters could cut me deeper than ten pissed-off texts almost had me going to her room anyway.

Gwen: I should sleep like you said. Goodnight, E.

At the sight of Carter joining me with his mug, I set aside my phone and force last night’s memories to the backburner.

“So, what are you doing up so early anyway?” I deflect, sitting forward so my aching back doesn’t make contact with the chair. I should pop some ibuprofen, but I’m trying to save myself from an ulcer by avoiding taking that shit on an empty stomach like I used to back in the day.