CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Victoria was dozing when a crash woke her. Belatedly, she realized someone had flung the door open and it had hit the wall. For a moment, her heart soared as she hoped that somehow they’d been rescued.
But that hope was proven futile when a light shined on her and Nick and a man laughed. She’d spent time prowling the room, looking for anything she could use as a weapon, but all she had were the clothes on her body and the cords they’d been tied with. It wasn’t much, but if someone got close enough, at least she could attempt to strangle them. She sat up and felt for the cords in her pocket.
Suddenly, an electric lantern lit the room and she could see three men. It was the one who was laughing that made her blood chill.
Beside her, Nick had grown very still. He was lying down, and while she’d felt him jerk with the crash of the door, he wasn’t moving now. His eyes were closed and her stomach fell. But he was still breathing, and that made relief flow through her. She could see now that the darkness on his T-shirt was blood, not sweat as she’d hoped.
She got to her feet, sick inside. Whether it was to shield Nick or confront the man laughing at them, she didn’t know. Anger and terror swirled in her belly.
Zaran bin Yusuf had changed since Emily had sent smiling selfies of her and him a few years ago when they’d first started dating in New Orleans. He now sported a black beard, cropped to nearly a point, and he wore Qu’rimi dress—a thobe and keffiyeh with black cords holding the headdress in place. He also wore a curved dagger at his waist, and a gun holstered near that. He looked absolutely formidable—and pleased beyond belief.
“When they told me they’d taken an American man and woman with enough guns to start their own army, I admit I’d hoped. There’s only one American woman I could think of who would be wandering the Qu’rimi desert with an arsenal at her disposal. Greetings, sister-in-law.”
Victoria’s skin crawled at the way his gaze raked over her bra-clad torso. Her stomach churned. She hadn’t wanted to believe that Emily had married this man, but it must be true. “Where is my sister?”
“Safe. For now.”
She didn’t want to know what that meant—and yet she did. She had to. “I want to see her.”
Zaran sat in a chair that someone had brought into the room for him. He stroked his beard as he studied her. “So you keep saying. Yet you are a bad influence on my wife. You make her remember her life before.”
“I’m her family.”
His expression clouded. “No, I am,” he shouted as he leaned forward to glare at her. “I am her family. I saved her, Victoria. I got her off drugs and alcohol when you could not. When you didn’t care.”
Victoria shivered as guilt slid through her. She knew it wasn’t her fault that Emily had spiraled into addiction, but she always wondered what she could have done differently. How she could have helped by staying instead of leaving Emily in treatment and going into the Army. She’d been trying to build a better life, but it had all imploded on her.
And led her to this moment, apparently, where she was at the mercy of a man who’d already tried to kill her once before. If only he would come closer. She thought about how she might take the gun from him if he did.
A sharp step to the instep, a blow to the kidney…
“I do care. I’ve always cared.” She wanted to ask him why Emily was calling her and saying she wanted to go home, but she knew that wouldn’t be a good idea. If he’d exploded over her saying she was Emily’s family, what would he do when she suggested Emily preferred her to him?
“If you cared, you would stop trying to be a part of her life. She is confused when you speak with her. This is her life now, yet she feels nostalgia for her old life when you interfere.”
She clasped her hands together and decided to try to pacify this man. If she could just get him closer. It would be a risk, but if he was off his guard, she could take the gun. She was small and agile, and she had training he couldn’t imagine.
“Then I’m sorry. But you didn’t have to try to kill me for it.”
He snorted. “You are a hard woman to kill, it would seem. My men were never heard from again, yet here you are.”
“They were probably terrified that I got away from them. I imagine they’re on a beach in Thailand or something.”
His eyes narrowed. “Yes, perhaps.” His gaze slid to Nick and then back to her, one eyebrow arching. “And perhaps you had help escaping and disposing of the bodies.”
Victoria swallowed. “I guess we’ll never know.” She lifted her chin. “It’s good you failed, Zaran. Think how horrible it would be to have your wife’s only sister’s death on your hands.”
“It would not have been on my hands. It still will not. I am not the one who will do it.”
“But you will order it done. You can’t escape culpability with semantics.”
“This is a choice I can live with, Victoria. It must be done for Emily’s well-being.”
She couldn’t fathom the sickness of his logic. And she knew she couldn’t argue with him, either.
“The least you can do is allow me to see her one last time.”
“The least I can do is make sure you do not suffer when the time comes.”
Victoria pulled in a deep breath, though her insides were churning and her anger was so palpable she thought Zaran could probably see it pulsing in the air between them. She threw a look at Nick. He hadn’t moved.
“Let him go,” she said. “It’s me you want. He’s got nothing to do with this.”
“It looks to me like the choice has already been made for him.”
“Send a doctor then. Clean the wound, remove any fragments, and give him painkillers. He’s worth something to you. To the Americans. They’ll pay to get him back.”
He cocked his head. “Not to Ian Black? Most interesting.”
Her heart thumped. So he did know Ian. Of course he did. “Did Ian know you intended to kill me that day?”
“I don’t have to clear my plans with Ian Black. He’s a tool, the same as you are. He is useful to the Freedom Force, though not as useful as he could be.”
Though she was furious with Ian for working for this asshole in the first place, she was thankful that her instincts about his involvement in the attempt on her life hadn’t been wrong. It wasn’t much, but it was something.
Zaran sat back and folded his arms. “You shot the Russian.”
She had no idea whose agenda she’d been carrying out last night, but at this evidence that Zaran bin Yusuf knew about Chernovsky and the smallpox, her anger spiked anew.
“Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“I did. Thank you.”
God, she hated this man. She wished she could rewind a few weeks and take a different shot. Or that she’d been a split second too late with her shot, because Nick would have made his.
Maybe she’d had it all wrong. Maybe it would have given Emily the opening she needed to escape this man instead of endangering her.
“Be careful what you unleash into the world, Zaran. You can’t control who it sickens or how far it spreads. It could be you… or Emily.”
He got to his feet in a swirl of robes. “These are the chances we take in war.”
Then he turned and strode from the room. The two men who’d stood silently also went with him and the door shut with a thunk.
Victoria swore. If she hadn’t pissed him off so quickly, she might have gotten her chance. Though it was lucky the two men hadn’t been ordered to kill her when Zaran walked out.
But the men were gone, she was alone with Nick, and they now had a chair and a battery-powered lantern.
She bent over the mattress and smoothed her hand over Nick’s hair. His eyes shot open, their hazel depths angry.
“Oh my God, I thought you were leaving me,” she cried before she sank down and took his head in her lap.
“Not planning on it.” His voice was hoarse and she realized his skin was hotter than before.
“Good, because I’m not ready for this to end. I want more time with you. I want more time.”
He squeezed her arm with his good hand. “Hang in there, babe. Might… work out.” He sucked in a deep breath, let it out with a groan. “You did… good. Brave girl.”
She decided not to tell him she’d have done better if Zaran had gotten closer. In his condition, he didn’t need to worry about her more than he already was. “You heard him?”
“Yeah. Thought it… best if… didn’t look lively.”
“Good idea. He’s demented.” She lifted his hand to her lips and pressed her mouth to his skin. Definitely hotter than he should be. “We’ll probably need a miracle to get out of here.”
His eyes glinted. “Could happen.”
She searched his gaze—and then it dawned on her that he expected his guys—the Hostile Operations Team—to rescue them. He fully expected them to ride in like knights on white stallions and extract them from the craziness that was Zaran bin Yusuf’s world.
And for the first time, hope blossomed in her soul.
“How…? They took our phones.”
“Backup plan. Tracking device… sewn in pants pocket.”
“I think I love these guys you work for.”
He gave her a grin before taking a deep breath and closing his eyes again. His breathing was even, but she still feared for him. But now she hoped too. Hoped like hell that the reputation of HOT was well deserved and not just myth. She’d do what she had to do to protect them both, but it would be so much easier if the white knights would show up.
“I’ll love them forever if they pull this off,” she said softly. “But I think I’ll love you more.”
* * *
Victoria sat on the chair where she’d pulled it over next to the mattress. She watched the door, and she watched Nick, reaching out to push his damp hair off his face when he moved. She didn’t know how long she’d been sitting there before she thought she heard a woman’s voice. She stood and went over to the door, listening hard, her hands on the cords. A key turned in the lock and the door pushed inward.
Victoria waited, ready to spring as soon as someone walked in. But it wasn’t a man.
A woman in a full burka stepped through the entry, and Victoria took a step back. The woman turned toward her, pushing her veil aside.
“Emily!”
They rushed into each other’s arms. Victoria squeezed her baby sister tight. Emily squeezed back just as hard.
“When I heard there was an American woman who’d been captured with a big rifle, I knew I had to try to see her. And it’s you! I knew it would be!”
Victoria wiped her sister’s tears from her face with her thumbs. “Sweetie, I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you, Victoria.”
Victoria glanced at the door and realized a man stood there silently. Her heart dropped, but it wasn’t bin Yusuf. “How did you get Zaran to let you come?”
Emily snorted. “He didn’t. I lied to Ahmed. Don’t worry, he doesn’t understand English.” She bit her lip. “I feel bad. He’s a good bodyguard, and Zaran will be furious. But I had to see you.”
Victoria hugged her again. “Oh, Emily, it’s good to see you.”
Emily’s eyes roved over her. “What happened to your shirt? Did someone hurt you?”
“No. I needed it for my partner.”
Emily hugged her again, and that’s when she realized there was something hard lying against Emily’s belly. Victoria started.
But Em held her tight and whispered in her ear. “I’ve brought you a pistol. It’s the best I could do. I know what he intends to do, and I’m not going to let him do it. Reach inside while my back is turned and take it. Ahmed won’t know.”
Victoria did as her sister told her, shoving the pistol into the back of her pants once she’d retrieved it. It all happened fast, and then Emily stepped away and they stood looking at each other for a long moment. Ahmed looked bored.
“Who’s he?” Em said, tipping her chin at Nick.
His eyes were open this time, and he was watching them. Once again, Victoria’s heart thumped at this sign he was still alive. Who was he? So much she could say to that, but she could hardly voice it. So she told the simple truth.
“His name is Nick. He’s my partner. Em, he’s hurt. Can you get a doctor? Or get some first-aid supplies for me—bandages, alcohol, painkillers?”
Emily frowned. “I’ll try.”
She turned to Ahmed and spoke in fluent Arabic. The man shook his head sharply. Emily spoke again, and Victoria recognized the wheedling tone her sister had often used with her. Ahmed’s expression grew stony, and then it grew soft. Finally, he ducked his head out the door and called to someone.
A few minutes later, a man brought a first-aid kit and some water. And a button-down shirt that had probably once been white. Ahmed handed everything to Emily, who promptly handed it to Victoria. Gratefulness rushed through her as she slipped on the shirt. It was dusty and smelled a bit like a camel, but it was something. Not only was she no longer naked, but she was also able to cover the gun at the back of her waistband.
“Thank you, Em.”
“It’s the least I could do.” She huffed in a breath. “My God, the shit you’ve had to put up with because of me. I’m so sorry. I should have listened to you.”
“We all make mistakes, Em. I still love you, no matter what.”
Victoria hurried over to Nick’s side. She used the scissors in the kit to cut Nick’s T-shirt open. The blood on the shirt was sticky, but it pulled away easily enough. She gave him two ibuprofens and a sip of water, then she removed the field dressing and cleaned the wound with alcohol while Nick grimaced. He was definitely feverish, but he was holding on to consciousness.
“I’m sorry, Preacher Boy,” she whispered.
He nodded.
She tended the wound as tenderly as she could. He’d lost blood and she had no idea if there were fragments in the wound, but she couldn’t take the risk of probing around in there right now and making him bleed anew. She had to hope his guys got here soon and could take care of him properly.
“Is he going to be all right?” Emily asked, her voice small.
“Yes,” Victoria said, because she couldn’t contemplate otherwise.
“Zaran should have given you these things. It was cruel of him not to.”
Victoria didn’t want to comment on that statement. “Are you okay, Em? Has he ever hurt you?”
“Sometimes,” she said softly. “But we’re going to get away from him, Victoria. You and me. Somehow.”
Victoria turned to look at her. “Oh, honey. I hope we do get out of here. But I can’t guarantee anything.”
Ahmed said something to Emily. Her expression fell. Victoria hated that look on her sister’s face. It was the look of a girl who’d been searching for something her entire life and had never yet found it. A girl who trusted too easily and fell too far when that trust was broken.
“I have to go.”
Victoria stood and hugged her again. Her sister was so small and frail that it broke her heart.
“This isn’t the end, Victoria. I swear it’s not.”
Victoria felt the solid weight of the gun at her back and hoped her sister was right.
“No, I don’t think it is either.” She kissed Emily’s cheek, unable to contemplate that she might never see her sister again. She refused to contemplate that this was good-bye.
HOT was coming, and they would get out of here. She had to believe it.
Emily walked out the door and Ahmed started to swing it shut. But raised voices sounded nearby and the door swung back open. Zaran bin Yusuf strode into the room, Emily tugging his arm and pleading with him both in Arabic and English.
He stood silently and bore it while he glared at the scene—and then he backhanded her and she fell to the floor.