Bahodir, Azbakastan
Blood. Everywhere.
Macy Gibbs looked down at her shaking hands, stained red and clutching a bloody knife. Her gaze dropped to the man lying on the floor at her feet. His empty eyes stared into space. Fluid oozed from the wound in his chest where his heart should beat.
Her ears began to ring, her vision dimming. They would execute her for this. In this country, she wouldn’t get a trial. Women had very few rights here. An American woman had none. Especially one married to an Azbak man.
Revulsion turned her stomach. Married. What she’d been in was anything but a marriage.
The sound of the door handle turning snapped her out of her stupor. One thought ran through her head as she dropped the knife. Run.
Panicked, she spun in a circle, searching the small bedroom for an escape she knew she wouldn’t find. She’d been locked inside this room for weeks. Had there been a way out, she would have found it.
Her eyes focused on the door. Only one way out. One choice.
To keep fighting.
Forcing her legs to move she slipped behind the door just as it opened. A tall figure emerged stealthily into the darkened room, lit only by a dim lamp in the corner. On auto-pilot, Macy struck, aiming for his jugular.
He ducked her blow, his hand coming up to capture her wrist. With a forceful tug, he had her arm pinned behind her, her back pressed to the wall and a forearm against her throat. Not enough to hurt her, but it felt like an iron bar across her neck. Afraid to breathe, she looked up into a pair of stunningly beautiful green eyes. The way he stared back at her made her blood race. Direct, lethal.
Her vision narrowed. Warmth slid down her leg but she didn’t feel the pain of her injury. Memories of what her bastard husband had tried to do to her filled her head. If she hadn’t fought back…
“Hey, breathe.”
Her attacker’s voice, low and smooth, broke through her thoughts. Macy blinked. Why did he sound so far away when she could feel every hard inch of him?
The arm on her throat loosened. She drew in a breath that made her head spin. “American” She whispered, fighting to remain upright. He wasn’t one of Aziz’s men. Where were the guards? Surely, they must have heard her tussle with their leader. Then again, they were fully aware of what went on in this room and had not once intervened.
A hand gripped her chin, warming her despite the chill in her bones and gave her a shake. Her eyes snapped open.
“Come on, we’re getting out of here.”
Those words pushed through the buzzing in her ears. Before she could ask who he was, he picked her up and swung her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. Moving as if he didn’t hold any extra weight at all, her rescuer moved swiftly down halls and stairways, over and around bodies.
Head swimming, Macy blinked, trying to comprehend what she was seeing. She clutched her rescuers vest as he took another set of stairs down into a darkened room.
“Hold on.” He warned seconds before they dropped.
Macy gripped him tightly, stifling a scream as he landed on his feet, faltered a step, then rose and started running. Warm night air swept over her, carrying the scent of orchids. Despite feeling like blacking out, she lifted her head to look around, seeing nothing but darkness. How long had it been since she’d been outside? Smelled fresh air? Felt the breeze on her skin?
Emotion welled in her chest. Was she truly free of her prison? The man carrying her felt real. Smelled it too. Like the ocean mixed with a hint of raw male.
His arm tightened on her leg, readjusting her weight. The movement put pressure on her wound and she winced.
“I know it hurts, but I need to keep some form of compression on that wound to staunch the blood flow.” Her rescuer said.
He knew about her leg? A wave of dizziness washed over her. She gritted her teeth, willing it to stop.
“Still with me?”
They had begun to descend, his footing sure. Through the one small window in her room she’d seen nothing but hills and mountains.
“I’m good.” She wished she could see something. “Not sure how long I can stay like this though.” Between being half upside-down and the way his hand clamped on her thigh she feared passing out.
“It’s another mile to the car. Think you can make it?”
A mile? If it meant getting off this mountain she’d do whatever it took. “I can make it.”
“Good girl. Hold on.”
The last time he said that, they dropped a few feet so she braced herself. He didn’t jump this time, but began a sharp descent. She heard his boots scuffing along the ground as they advanced. Her heart pounded. If he lost his footing, they would tumble down the mountain. Big or small it wouldn’t end well.
Not once did he loosen his hold on her. Her fate rested in his ability to stay in control of their descent. She felt his shoulders bunch beneath her, his hands like vise grips.
When they finally landed on even ground, she loosened the death grip she’d had on him. Her fingers ached from holding on so tight.
Slightly winded, her savior said, “Almost there. Still with me?”
She nodded, and then realized he couldn’t see her. “I’m good.”
“The worst is over. It’s a straight shot to the car now.” He gave her arm a squeeze before breaking into a swift walk.
It didn’t take them long to reach it. When he stopped, easing her off his shoulders, she breathed a sigh of relief. The instant she put weight on her leg it buckled. Her rescuer caught her before she fell.
While holding her, he slipped something off his face. In the moonlight coming through the trees she saw him toss a pair of goggles on the roof. When had he put those on? He opened the passenger side door, but no light came on.
“Here. Sit.”
With his help, she sat on the torn seat, both legs outside the car that stunk like cigarettes and sweat.
“Sorry about the smell.” He crouched in front of her. “Needed something that blended in.”
Compared to where she’d come from it was like heaven. “What’s your name?”
He shrugged out of his pack and dug through the side pocket, coming up with a small box. “Nate Wolff of Wolff Securities.”
“Wolff Securities?” She winced when he wrapped gauze around her thigh, pulling it taut.
He glanced at her. “Sorry. Has to be tight to stop the bleeding.”
She nodded. Pain she could manage. The emotion she felt by being here instead of locked in that room she struggled with.
“That should do it until we reach the hotel.”
Carefully, she eased her legs inside. He closed the door and rounded the hood to climb in the driver’s side. The seat had been pushed all the way back and still he barely fit. He tossed his pack and the goggles behind him before bringing the engine to life. It spit and sputtered before chugging to a start.
When the headlights clicked on she saw they were parked alongside a narrow road. Anyone driving by would probably assume the heap of junk had broken down and was left. She’d seen it numerous times during her travels here.
So many questions raced through her head as Nate pulled onto the road, did a U-turn and headed in the other direction. Too many emotions filled her chest. Overwhelmed, she leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. Right now, she just couldn’t process everything.
A hand gently shook her shoulder. “Hey, don’t fall asleep on me. You’ve lost some blood. I need you to stay with me.”
Macy forced her heavy eyelids open; tried to force the cloudiness from her head. Felt like she’d been on a three-day binge. All she wanted to do was sleep. “Talk to me.” She said, her voice slurred even to her own ears. “What is Wolff Securities?”
“Private security firm.”
“Like bodyguards?”
“Something like that.”
Her eyes drifted shut and she pried them open. “Not much of a talker, huh?”
He didn’t answer, just slowed for a curve before stomping on the gas. The car chugged a bit before shooting forward.
“I’m Macy.”
“I know.”
A hammer started chipping away at her skull, churning her stomach. “How long before we’re there?”
“Fifteen minutes.”
She turned her head sideways to look at him. His profile, lit by the dashboard lights, showed a strong jaw, incredible cheekbone, and a crooked nose. Handsome wasn’t the right word to describe him. Sexy and hot came to mind instead.
“Thank you.” She said quietly.
He glanced at her, their gazes locking briefly before turning back to the road. They had begun to enter the city now. The streets lined with rundown houses. She recognized it immediately as the capital city, Bahodir. Hard to imagine it having areas so poor there wasn’t running water.
Her time here had been spent in such places. Giving underprivileged girls the opportunity to learn to read. Not always met by accession. Those strict beliefs had landed her in a private prison. Her friends dead.
Grief rose in her throat. Again, too much to bear. She began to shake, unable to stop the images racing through her head. The blast. The shock of seeing her friends’ humanitarian aid vehicle burst into flames. The fear when they shot the vehicle she rode in, off the road. Waking up in a hell she’d never imagined.
Her breath trapped in her throat. The scent of blood, metallic and sickening, surrounded her. Oh, God, she couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move.
“Hey. Stay with me. Macy.”
Nate’s command registered distantly in her head but didn’t stop the vise around her chest from squeezing tighter, cutting off her air.
Scott shot in the head. Blood everywhere.
Avery screaming at her to run.
Flames so hot she couldn’t breathe.
All dead.
The car screeched to a halt, jolting her in her seat. Two hands gripped her shoulders, shaking hard. So, hard her head bounced against the seat.
“Macy. Look at me.”
She turned toward Nate, looking into his gorgeous green eyes, then blinked. “Nate?”
Relief crossed his face. “Yes. Breathe for me, sweetheart.”
Slowly, the images started to fade and Nate’s face came more into focus. A shudder worked its way down her spine. She drew in a deep breath, her lungs working again.
“I’m good.” She said hoarsely.
His hand, warm and comforting, touched her cheek, then her forehead. “You’re burning up. Let’s get you to the hotel.”
All she could manage was a nod. The instant his hands left her skin she felt empty, drained. Nate began driving down the steadily busy road.
Minutes later they pulled into the parking lot of a five-story hotel. Nate didn’t stop in the front, but drove around to the back where fewer cars filled the lot. He parked in a spot where little light shone on them and turned off the car.
“Wait here.”
She did so while he grabbed his pack out of the backseat and slung it over a shoulder before coming around to open her door. Her limbs refused to cooperate so he had to help her out of the car. He reached inside and withdrew a tattered blanket which he slung around her shoulders. It covered her from chin to knee. She knew its purpose was to conceal the blood staining her clothes but it made her feel protected all the same.
“Can you walk?” He asked.
“Yes.”
He kept a strong arm around her as they headed for the door. Nate used his key card to open it and helped her to the elevator. The hallways were deserted, thankfully, because she knew what she looked like.
As the elevator ascended, she leaned against the wall, exhausted. None of this felt real. More like a dream. One she hoped not to wake up from because the alternative terrified her.
The elevator doors slid open and they stepped off. Nate tucked her head into his shoulder as they passed a middle-aged couple going to their room as well. She heard their whispers fade as Nate turned down another hallway and used his key to gain access.
It wasn’t until they were locked inside that she breathed a heavy sigh. The blanket fell off her shoulders and floated to the floor to pool around her slippers. She stood, frozen in place, unable to get her body to move.
“Come on, let’s get that wound stitched.”
Her gaze lifted to Nate, able to see him fully in the light now. He had to be the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. Tall, tanned, sexy. Dressed in black from head to toe he looked like an avenging angel.
He reached for her and she jerked back; more out of habit than fear. Somehow, she knew Nate wouldn’t hurt her. Not like the men in the hellhole he’d rescued her from.
Images filled her head, stealing her ability to remain composed. Aziz coming at her with a knife. Pure hate in his black eyes as he pinned her to the mattress and yanked her pants down. The terror that gripped her as she fought him, managing to get the knife out of her thigh before he could and stabbing him in the chest with it.
Macy looked down at her hands, still stained red.
“Oh, God.” She whispered, backing away from Nate. “Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.” She shook her head, lifting her gaze to Nate’s. “I did it. I killed him.”
Frantically, she began wiping her hands on her shirt. The blood wouldn’t come off. Her panic rose. “Get it off. Get it off.”