Page 95 of Descent

I nod my head in agreement.

“Well, then we are gonna go to them.”

“If you think I haven’t already been to their house—”

“What about their safe house?” Wesley asks.

I frown at that. “What do you mean?”

“C’mon, like a tech security god/borderline doomsday prepper like Hutchinson isn’t going to have an undocumented safe house should anything go wrong with the Brethren, the world or his son?” Wesley challenges.

I think on it for a second. Makes sense, pretty fitting to his character, with the little I know about him actually.

“How are you going to find something like that?” I ask.

Welsey continues typing on his phone as he speaks.

“I have made alliances with some of the most skilled hackers in the world over the last decade. What good would those relationships be if I couldn’t utilize them from time to time?”

He finishes whatever he was doing on his phone before he pockets it and nods.

“And now?” I guess.

“We wait.”

I curse under my breath as I shake my head.

“For how fucking long?”

Wesley gives me a flat look. “As long as it takes. My guys work fast, faster than you, me or any of those kids would.”

Biting the inside of my cheek, I shake my head before begrudgingly nodding. It’s not the answer I wanted to hear. It’s not an answer any of them want to hear. If Wesley’s contacts take more than a few days, I have no doubt Griggs will have already burnt the world down. For everyone’s sake, I hope they are faster than that.

Chapter Thirty Nine

Skyla

The next morning, I wake up to the smell of bacon and something sweet. My eyes flutter open, landing on a sleeping Asher. I’m still tucked on his left while Liam is tucked on his right. Sitting up, he rouses a little before falling back asleep. Liam snuggles into him and I watch as Asher’s hold on him tightens subconsciously. Seeing them like this has my heart tugging in my chest. They’d hate to hear me describe them this way, but god, they are so cute together.

Quietly slipping out of bed, I look to see Vincent asleep on the couch, his hoodie pulled over his face and boots propped up on the arm of the couch. It’s as if he never truly relaxes, even when he’s sleeping. Like he’s one door opening or glass shattering away from jumping to attention and flipping that switch into kill mode.

Looking into the kitchen, I see Ronan at the stove, flipping what I now can tell is a piece of french toast as he pulls the bacon out of another pan. His eyes swing to me, a tired smile on his face.

“Good morning,” he says.

“Morning,” I smile, as I pad my way over to him.

He abandons the food in front of him, spinning to face me, as his arms wrap around my lower back. I can’t help but sink into his touch, comfort washing over me as he holds me. His head leans down, pressing his lips to mine. My hand reaches up to cup his face, deepening the kiss as I do.

When we pull apart, I don’t move away, instead softly whispering just over his lips.

“I missed you last night.”

“Yeah? I missed you, baby.”

“Why didn’t you come over?” I ask.

His eyes move from me to the bed, before back to me.

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