Page 28 of What Remains

Easton’s hands find me next. They’re warm, shaking, and real.

You’re here. You saved me.

He frees my wrists, and the blood rushes back so sharply I nearly black out.

He’s saying something. I think I respond? I don’t know.

I’m okay. I’m okay. The words circle like a panicked bird.

Once my cuffs are removed from my ankles, I forget my nakedness and straddle him, needing to be as close to him as possible. I give in to a sob as he holds me, shielding and protecting me with a hand in my hair and one at my back.

Zoey’s here, too. She says something about . . . time? Probably that we don’t have much. And at some point, Easton mentions the fact we need to leave, and I should cover up first.

“You can look. I really don’t care.” Nothing matters at this point but getting away from here. Certainly not my nudity.

Zoey winds up trading places with him, because despite the urgent nature of the situation, he refuses to look at me naked. She helps me into the jumpsuit, then into the sandals those assholes gave me to wear on the plane.

Before I know it, Zoey’s guiding me to the doorway where Easton waits for us. He gives her the rifle and promises me, “I won’t let you down ever again.”

I’m blinking my way through everything, still in shock and now also confused, as he lets me go and picks up a firearm from the table.

“You never let me down before,” I say in a daze.

His brows knit, and he looks like he wants to argue—or maybe hug me—but there’s no time. “Stay here for a second. Don’t move.” He plants himself between me and the hall as he and Zoey open fire in opposite directions. He takes the left, Zoey the right.

I glance over at the bloody knife on the floor, and it takes all my restraint not to go castrate the animal who attacked me. Not that he can die twice, but murderous rage fills me as I remember everything that’s happened.

When Easton turns and holds out his hand, I catch sight of Blue-Eyes’s blood on his cargo pants. There’s even some on the palm that’s extended toward me now. I bet there’s blood on me since he touched me right after slitting his throat. “Gwen?”

I continue to stare at his open hand, stuck in place. Startled and stunned.

“I’m carrying you. Okay?”

He doesn’t wait for me to answer. He throws me over his shoulder and anchors me in place like we’re one body as we go out in the hall. My ass is parked next to his head, my hands hanging limp near his butt, arms flapping around as he runs.

And everything fractures into pieces after that.

From the muzzle bursts and lunging shadows to the way Zoey moves behind us, like she’s truly been engineered for war—low, fast, and lethal.

Even though the shots are suppressed, the sounds detonate in the enclosed space, punching the air from my lungs, sending knives of sound into my ears I try to ignore.

Zoey’s M4 barely rests before she takes out a guard who pops around a corner. The deep, violent thump-crack hits clean in his head, and he drops instantly.

We continue on. Another corridor. Another surgical shot. This time, by Easton’s handgun.

They’re both like death on autopilot, cutting us a path with terrifying efficiency.

When we hit a branching hallway, the lights sputter and die. Darkness folds over us as Easton whispers, “We’re almost out. If we can’t see them, they can’t see us.” His arm somehow remains wrapped snugly around me as we move. “Hang on tight and don’t let go.”

Don’t let go. Those three words become my world. I cling to them, refusing to sink back into that room and what almost happened. Not to mention what did happen at the hotel.

I have no clue how they do it, but between the two of them, Zoey and Easton manage to get us outside unscathed. The rain is just a drizzle now as they keep moving until we’re at the jungle’s edge. Only then does Easton lower me to the ground.

The three of us crouch low in the foliage. “Time to split up,” Zoey advises. “I’ll create a distraction. Meet me at the rendezvous. If I’m not there in five, go to the safe house without me.”

She’s fearless. Maybe a little crazy, too.

“Hell no,” Easton objects, grabbing her arm. “Not a chance we’re leaving without you.”