Page 35 of Remnants
“That’s not what you fucking meant, and you know it,” Dane snarks.
I sit, and Jackson leans against the wall in the corner.
“Enough. We need to go over everything that happened and the next steps.” Aiden's dark brown gaze pauses on each of us to make sure he has our attention before he continues, “I’m not sure how much you watched from the cameras, but when Jack, Reid, and I arrived at the butcher shop, Gordon had freed Thorne from the cuffs by removing his thumbs.”
I grip my knees and concentrate on my lap. This is it. I’m going to find out what happened to him. Shit, am I shaking? I fist my hands, attempting to clamp down on whatever tremors are involuntarily taking control of my body.
“Wait,” Dane snaps. He lifts his chair and carries it around the table, dropping it next to mine and sitting down. He puts my hand in his, encouraging me to release my grip so he can slide his fingers between mine, then settles our hands back in my lap. “Okay.”
I can feel all their eyes on me, but I don’t look away from Aiden. He’s watching me carefully, waiting for me to tell him I’m ready, and I nod for him to continue.
I’m listening to what he says, and yet not. As if his voice is background noise, talking behind a veil where only key words jump out at me. Thorne attacked Gordon. Gordon admitted the president of GE was at the bunker. And then…and then…
“…moved his body to an ice chest temporarily, which we locked from the outside, here in the Tower.”
Dane squeezes my hand and leans in, whispering in my ear, “Are you okay?”
…his body…
Ice chest.
That means…
He’s dead…right?
The panic doesn’t ebb when that thought passes through. It’s not…solid enough. It doesn’t feel real.
Could he still come back?
Is this another trick?
Another lie?
“He’s dead.” Jackson’s voice breaks through my internal spiral, and it’s like I can draw air again.
I realize that’s what I needed. Someone to outright say it.
My eyes find his. He’s now crouching where Dane had been seated so his forearms are leaning on the table, and his face is level with mine. His deeper blue gaze is shadowed, something unpleasant lurking there, and I recall the wishes I’d given him. The one where I’d wanted to make Gordon pay.
“He’s dead,” he repeats, our eyes locked, so there’s no questioning it. So I can try again to process it.
He’s dead.
Dead.
Gone.
“I’m sorry we couldn’t bring him to you alive,” Aiden says softly. “But you can do with him as you please. Or allow us to.”
The room grows quiet.
What…do I want to…do…with him?
It feels like my brain is sluggish, thoughts struggling through a quagmire or sinking into it before I can reach for them.
Dane squeezes my hand again, and I return the pressure on autopilot. “Rae…”
“You don’t have to decide right now,” Aiden offers. “Take your time to think about—”
