Chapter 6
Chapter
Six
July 11 th
7:17 P.M.
Ignore it.
It has nothing to do with us.
Nothing to do with why we’re in Egypt.
Cooper could practically hear his brother’s voice in his head even though he still had the home end of the comms on silent so neither he nor anyone else could hear what his siblings were no doubt currently discussing.
“Explain,” he barked at Mahmoud, loud enough and harsh enough that the man began to tremble.
“It is complicated,” Professor Mahmoud hedged.
“Uncomplicate it for me,” Cooper ordered. The woman had blue eyes, so it was highly unlikely she was of Egyptian descent, although, of course, not impossible. If she was in Egypt as a tourist, there would be no reason for her to be sitting on the floor in a professor’s kitchen, chained to the wall as she’d been.
All along he’d had a bad feeling about the figure in black, who he now knew was a woman. Something had been off about it, and he always trusted his gut. He’d just allowed himself to put his own needs first and not done anything about it.
Because of that, a woman had been hurt.
There were bruises on the small part of her face that had been visible between the black material covering her head and most of her face. One of her eyes had been partially swollen, and the remains of black and blue marks were clearly evident.
“Now,” he growled when Professor Mahmoud offered no more information.
“She’s my wife’s sister’s daughter,” the other man blurted out.
“And? Why is she chained up in your kitchen?” Cooper didn't believe that. Mahmoud’s wife was also Egyptian, and while yes, her sister could have a Caucasian husband and they could have produced a child with blue eyes, he didn't think that was the case. Hopefully, his brothers were looking into it right now, checking to see if that was true, and if it wasn't then they’d have proof that Mahmoud had a woman held against her will on his premises.
Something they could definitely use as blackmail to make him talk.
Which made Cooper feel uneasy, dirty almost. From what little he’d seen, the woman had been abused, and instead of thinking about how he was going to get her out of there, he was thinking about how he could use her trauma for his own gain.
Not that he’d leave her there.
Yes, he was cold enough to use the intel to make Tarek Mahmoud give up whatever intel he was hiding about what his mother had been doing in Egypt and how it played into everything that had gone down. But he wasn't so cold that he wouldn't do everything in his power to get that woman to safety.
“She … the girl … it’s complicated.” As though realizing his mistake in saying that again, Mahmoud quickly hurried on. “She is unwell. Sick. Mentally. She has Schizophrenia and sometimes she has violent delusions. She is a danger to herself and others, and sometimes we don’t have any choice but to contain her to keep her safe.”
Nope.
He didn't believe that .
Not for a second.
The woman’s gaze had been clear, there was no confusion in her eyes, nothing to indicate that she wasn't in her right mind. There had been pain and fear, but also a determination he couldn’t help but admire. She’d wanted his attention and she’d got it.
“So, you keep her chained up in your kitchen?” he asked, arching a brow to show he didn't believe that at all.
“It’s the safest place for her. She doesn’t like to be alone, so we don’t leave her upstairs in her bedroom. This way she’s close by, we can keep an eye on her, and she has company, but we also know that everyone is safe. Her and us.”
“Why isn’t she with her parents?”
Professor Mahmoud’s gaze did a quick round of the room before settling on him. “They were overwhelmed after caring for her for many years, and we offered to take her for a while to give them a break.”
“Will she be returning with you to the States when you go back for the fall semester?”
“She … she does not like to fly. She could not cope with so many hours sitting in such a small and confined space.”
Lies.
All lies.
There was not a chance in hell that the woman he’d seen dragged out of there was a relative of Professor Mahmoud or was mentally ill. She was there for some other reason. Whatever it was, he needed to get her alone long enough to ask. Then he’d take the steps needed to alert the authorities that a kidnap victim was being held in the home of the world-renowned Egyptologist.
Or do whatever it took to take the woman with him when he left.
As much as it might frustrate his siblings, he couldn’t in good conscience walk away, knowing an innocent woman was in imminent danger, knowing that she likely wouldn't still be alive when authorities investigated. Leaving her there would be as good as signing her death warrant himself.
Not who he was.
Not who his mother would want him to be .
And not what a single one of his brothers—blood or step—would do if they’d been the ones to come to Egypt and discover her.
It absolutely messed with his plans to gather intel, but he didn't see any other choice. Besides, it wasn't like he was going to have to be personally responsible for the woman. He’d take her with him, drop her off at the embassy, and then go back to doing what he’d come there to do.
Just as Cooper was about to demand to speak with the woman, Mahmoud sagged against the wall. “You were right.”
“About what?”
“The kid. Aston Duncan. I did ask him to follow you.”
Stepping closer, he crowded the older man. “Why would you do that?”
“Because I know who you work for and what happened to your mother. I’ve heard the stories and the rumors. I had to be sure you were just here to do what you said you were and not for any other reason.”
“What other reason would there be?”
“I don’t know, but I always know it’s better to be safe than sorry. I should have trusted that you just wanted to learn about your mother, but I got a little paranoid. Maybe because I'm aware of the rumors about her. I don’t know what she was doing the night of my wedding. She came as the guest of an invited guest. She looked stunning, and even though I love my wife, those eyes weren't ones you could forget easily. It was the first time I'd ever seen her, I exchanged a few words with her, and that was it. By the time I returned from my honeymoon, I heard the rumor that she was involved in the death of her husband and his team. I’ll admit I gossiped about it a little, and I was aware that she had been arrested and committed suicide. Maybe because she was somehow connected, no matter in how small a way, with the happiest day of my life that I couldn’t not reach out when I saw her photo floating around. But I don’t know anything more, I'm sorry.”
The speech was delivered emotionally, with all the right intonations and facial expressions, yet it didn't feel real.
Maybe because the professor kept darting nervous little glances toward the door .
The same door the mysterious woman in black had been dragged through.
It was obvious Mahmoud didn't want him getting too close to the woman. As soon as she’d made any attempt to connect with him, the older man had made sure she was taken away. The woman knew something, meant something, was somehow an integral part of this whole thing, and Cooper knew he needed to somehow get to her.
With a sigh, he dropped his head and stepped back, spearing his fingers through his dark locks. “That’s it? That’s all you know?”
“All I know.”
“And you aren't lying?” he asked, shooting the man a look that clearly conveyed that if he was, there would be consequences.
“Swear, no lies.”
“All right. May I use the bathroom before I go? After running from your little friend for half the day, I had to drink about a gallon of water once I got back to my rental car.”
“Of course. There is one through there, take the door under the stairs.”
As soon as Cooper was out of the kitchen, he heard it.
Muffled cries of pain.
Instinct had him heading toward the sound, and when he approached the half-open door to the office at the front of the house, fury ignited in his chest at the sight of the woman in black bent over a desk while the man who had pulled her from the room had his hand around her neck while he rained down blows on her bare backside.
For once in his life, calm, composed, and logical flew out the window and he just acted.
July 11 th
7:24 P.M
Slowly, the pain began to fade.
What had once been blinding terror at the thought of death shifted until it became acceptance, and something more.
Peace.
That kind of tranquility you found when you sat on the sand on the beach, listened to the sound of the waves, and watched the sunset on the horizon. Or when you were out in the middle of the woods, the tall trees stretching their limbs far above your head and up into the blue sky while scattered sunlight made dappled patterns on the ground and the twittering of birds mixed with a babbling brook.
As the hand around her neck squeezed a little tighter, Willow floated a little further away from the land of the living.
I'm ready, Dad.
Please be there waiting for me.
Maybe stepping over into whatever came next wouldn't be so scary if her dad was standing there with open arms ready to catch her.
Just as the world went black around the edges, all of a sudden, she could breathe again. The weight that had been crushing her body was gone. The hand that had been striking her bare backside was no longer there.
Weak as she was, her brain struggled to comprehend what had just happened. Why she wasn't dead. And why a strong set of arms gently gathered her up into an embrace.
“Hey, honey, it’s okay, you're okay now,” a voice crooned in her ear.
There was a hint of familiarity about it, but all she could focus on was dragging air into her starving lungs.
“That’s right, honey, keep breathing. Nice deep, long breaths. There you go,” the voice encouraged. Hands tugged at the material over her face, and she heard a muttered curse when he obviously discovered the tape over her mouth. “Sorry, honey, this is going to hurt,” he murmured before the tape was ripped off, taking layers of skin with it.
If it wasn't for the fact that she could now drag in proper deep breaths, she might have cared about the sting, but honestly, Willow had gotten so used to pain over the last couple of weeks that it barely even registered.
While she sucked in mouthful after mouthful of air, the man just held her, smoothed a hand down her hair, and whispered words she couldn’t even understand but that soothed her nonetheless. It was the American, part of her knew that even as part of her was struggling to just comprehend the fact that she wasn't dead.
Alive.
She was alive.
And safe now.
The strong arms wrapped around her kept her in a cocooned little bubble of security that she never wanted to pop.
“You saved me,” she whispered through her burning throat once her breathing was finally under control. “Thank you.”
A nod was all she got as an acceptance of her gratitude, and a niggle of unease settled inside her. The American had saved her from Darius, but was he going to take her away from Professor Mahmoud or was he going to leave her to her fate?
“What's your name?” he asked.
“Willow Purcell.”
“Do you know how long you’ve been here, Willow?”
“Two weeks.”
Those storm-gray eyes of his were a turbulent mess of emotions, and she still wasn't sure if he was going to help her escape even if he’d just saved her life.
The storminess grew when he lifted a hand and very gently traced a fingertip across the bruises she knew must be covering most of her face. At least she knew that anger wasn't directed at her.
“He did this to you?” the American demanded, his voice a low growl.
“Professor Mahmoud?” When he nodded, she did, too. “Most of them. His friends, too. Darius as well. Did you …?” Willow trailed off, not wanting to ask aloud if the American had killed Darius or just incapacitated him.
“Dead. He had his hands on you and … I snapped.”
“Thank you,” she whispered again. There was not a doubt in her mind that if the American hadn't intervened when he had, Darius would have killed her and suffered whatever consequences there might have been when the professor found out .
“Didn't do anything any decent person wouldn't have done,” he told her gruffly.
“Hate to break it to you, but there are no decent people around here.” Willow didn't mean in Egypt, in the entire country, she was sure there were lots, but in this neighborhood, there wasn't a single one to be found. “What's your name?”
There was a slight hesitation before he answered. “Cooper.”
“You aren't … here for me … are you?”
“No.”
Panic coursed through her at his simple one-word answer. “But you won't leave me here, will you?” Even though just moments ago death had seemed like an almost pleasant alternative, now that she’d been dragged back from the brink, she found she didn't want to die. She wanted to live. Wanted to fulfill her promises to her dad. Wanted to destroy Tarek Mahmoud.
Again, there was a pause, and his gaze shifted from her to what she assumed was Darius’ body, then to the office door. “No, honey, I wouldn't leave you behind.”
Relief swept through her, quickly followed by logic.
They needed a plan, and they needed one quickly.
“Thank you. I heard the questions you asked the professor. Once we’re free, I’ll tell you everything I know about him. I don’t know if it will help you get the answers you need about your mom, but if nothing else, you can use it as leverage.”
A smile curled up one side of his mouth, transforming him from handsome to downright gorgeous. “I like the way you think.” When he sobered, a sense of dread curled in her stomach. “But I'm going to have to get back in there or he’s going to come looking for me.”
There was no way Willow wanted to say the words that had to pass her lips.
They made her feel ill.
They also left her in exactly the same position she’d been in before Cooper arrived if he decided to betray her.
But what choice did she have?
If she didn't, then the professor would come looking for Cooper, find the dead body, him holding her in his arms, and kill them both.
This was the only way they stood a chance.
With a sigh, Willow dropped her head to rest on Cooper’s broad shoulder, relieved that at least for now, she wasn't in this on her own. “He’s been keeping me in an underground cell. That’s where Darius was supposed to put me. If you take me out there, lock me in, hide the body, then it will give you time to get away. Then, in a few hours, you can come back and break me out. If you try to get me out now, he’ll notice, he’ll go look for me the second you leave, and I’m pretty sure he owns everyone on this street. We won’t get away.”
Because he was holding her in his arms, she felt his body tense when she mentioned the underground cell, and she hoped it was because he just didn't like the idea of anyone being locked up like that. Not because he intended to leave her there and wash his hands of her altogether.
Trust had always been hard for her after her father’s murder, but now, in these circumstances, it was the hardest thing she’d ever had to do.
She was quite literally leaving her life in his hands.
If he came back for her, she would be rescued and could go home, write her piece, and bring down Professor Mahmoud and Allah’s Warriors.
If he didn't, then whatever punishment the professor doled out for her disobeying orders and trying to make contact with Cooper she would not survive.
There were no other options.
“Can you walk?” he asked as he lowered her feet to the ground but kept a steadying arm around her waist.
If he thought this last assault had wiped her out, he was mistaken. Willow would do whatever it took to survive, and she absolutely could summon the strength to walk herself back outside to her prison.
Cooper slung Darius’ body over his shoulders and followed her as she slipped out the front door and guided him around to the back. Her cell was unlocked, but he’d have to lock it to make this look believable. She had no idea how he was going to unlock it when he came back for her, but she was going to have to trust that he could find a way.
It took all her willpower to make herself jump back down into her cell instead of just making a run for it and hoping for the best .
There was every chance she was making the biggest mistake of her life.
“I’ll be back for you, I promise,” Cooper said, looking down at her from the edge of the hole.
Unable to form words, Willow merely nodded, then sucked in a breath as the trapdoor clunked closed.
This was it. She’d either found an ally who would help her escape, or she’d sealed her fate, she just wished she knew which it was so she could prepare herself.
Please come back, Cooper. Please don’t have lied to me.