Chapter 6
“Run!” August’s voice boomed behind Rami as they darted across the desert floor.
Rami leapt over small rocks and made a beeline for the waiting van. Dust flew up from beneath his boots.
A motor roared from the direction of the compound. Rami kept his focus zeroed in on the vehicle. The newcomers weren’t close enough to take shots, but they were moving fast.
“Come on, come on!” Taschen waved from the open door at the back of the van.
Ivy’s slight body jostled in Rami’s arms. Urgency chomped at his tailbone, and not just because the cartel was on their ass. She needed water and medical attention. ASAP. Every second she was in his arms and not getting treated was a second wasted.
He skidded up to the running vehicle and climbed in the back with Ivy in his arms. Taschen slammed the side door less than a second after August leapt into the bench seat. The engine roared as Taschen kicked the van into drive and careened away from the camper.
“She needs help,” Rami bellowed at August, as he settled her on the makeshift bed. He studied her slack expression under the light of his headlamp. Her skin was a pasty grayish color, her lips cracked and white.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“There’s electrolytes in my medic bag. Try to get some in her—I’m gonna need to keep us covered.” August rolled down his window and air whipped inside the vehicle. Taschen was driving at breakneck speed.
Rami didn’t dare glance outside. Didn’t want to take his focus from Ivy for fear she’d use the opportunity to slip away. “Ivy,” he barked. “Stay with me.”
Snagging the black bag, he unzipped it and then dug through the contents. He pulled out a small packet filled with liquid and tore off the top. Catching the back of her neck, he brought the plastic to her lips. “Come on, Ivy. Take a sip.”
Her lips were slightly parted. He couldn’t pour the shit down her throat for fear she’d choke but instead put a few drops inside her lips. “Dude,” he called to August. “She’s gonna need an IV.” His voice shook more than it should have.
Beams of light glowed in the back windows of the van. Rami swiped off his headlamp. A Jeep loomed behind them. Shit.
“I can’t get an IV in her until we’re steady,” August yelled. “We need to lose these guys.” He leaned out the window and fired at the Jeep.
Crack, crack, crack!
The cartel returned shots. Bullets pinged off the van. Rami lowered Ivy to the blankets and reached for his weapon. The bullets wouldn’t get through the van’s body or windows, but the tires were their weak point.
He cupped Ivy’s sleeping cheek. “Hang on.” Climbing over the bench, he went to the window opposite August.
His friend grinned at him. “I’ll aim for their driver. You get the tires.”
Rami powered down the window and the wind inside the car intensified.
“Come on, dipshits,” Taschen called. “Get these guys off our asses! If they get close enough to read our plate, we’re fucked.”
“On it.” Rami braced himself on the doorframe, took aim at the Jeep’s tires, and fired.
“Did you get ’em?” August hollered.
“No.” The Jeep was closing in. Rami cursed and leaned over the bench seat to grab his equipment bag. The glow from his headlamp on the floor lit Ivy’s pale, malnourished body. Ice licked his veins.
They didn’t have any more time.
He grabbed a grenade from its protective case.
August inhaled sharply. “Are you fucking crazy?”
“Yup.” Rami returned to the window, pulled the pin, and threw the device. The grenade landed on the dirt and a few seconds later, the Jeep straddled the bomb.
Kaboom!
The ground shook and the Jeep flipped backward from the force of the explosion. The van shook and Taschen cursed as he righted it. Debris soared through the air, hailing down around the van.
Taschen whooped.
“You smart sonofabitch,” August said with a chortle, slumping in the seat and wiping sweat from his dirt-streaked face.
Rami smirked, but his attention went right back to Ivy’s unmoving form. He clambered over the seat and sank down next to her, bringing his face close to hers. Soft, barely audible breaths came from her lips.
August climbed in the back with them, his eyes grave. He brought his fingers to her neck, and Rami watched as August silently took her pulse. He glanced at Rami and swallowed. “She needs a hospital.” He reached for his bag and dug through the contents.
Rami’s stomach sank, and he cupped Ivy’s slim hand in his. A hospital was out of the question. At least on this side of the border. Even once they crossed into California, it’d be too close. The cartel would be after them, even more so now because Rami had blasted their men to pieces.
Not like he’d had much choice. The only thing worse than being caught in the desert would be the cartel getting their plate number and following them home. Hitting their families.
The leaders would be pissed off, but the grenade had bought them time.
“We can’t go to a hospital,” Rami wheezed.
“No shit.” August took out an alcohol wipe and scrubbed the skin on top of Ivy’s wrist. “Keep the light on for me.”
Rami picked up the headlamp and shined it down on Ivy’s arm. Small round scabs marred her forearm. Rami’s gut twisted into knots.
August paused and ran his thumb over the marks. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he murmured.
Rage burned Rami’s insides. Every predatory instinct within him made him want to turn the van around and obliterate everyone at the compound. “Bastards.” His hand grew warm around Ivy’s much colder one. “Any idea what they gave her?”
August shook his head. “Not without a toxicology, but probably heroin.” He lifted a shoulder. “Maybe even a sedative like Rohypnol.”
Rami’s hand shook with unspent fury. “Why do that? What’s the point in taking her to keep her drugged up in a trailer?”
Having sterilized the skin on her wrist, August got the IV hooked to a needle. He flicked his gaze up. “I don’t even want to think about what they did to her. Not right now. But at the very least, they were waiting for a buyer.” He tied an elastic band around her arm and prodded her skin. After a minute, he let out an exasperated sigh. “She’s too dehydrated. I don’t know if her veins will hold.”
“We have to get the IV in,” Rami hissed.
“Obviously. But let’s try to wake her. I’ll feel better if we can get some fluids in her first. I don’t want her veins to collapse.”
August took the flashlight and held it on her face. “Ivy,” he called. “I-Vee.”
***
The syllables ofher name filled her head. For the first time in a long time, her body felt comfortable. Not too warm. Not on an unrelenting surface. And the smell was... pleasant? Weird.
A thick, solid hand curled around hers, gently shaking her.
Light penetrated the slits in her eyelids, and she turned away with a moan. The sound of her name grew more insistent.
Wayne.
Oh god. He was touching her. She tried to take stock of her body to see if he’d succeeded in violating her, but her nerve endings were too numb from whatever drugs still coursed through her system.
“Ivy!” The sharp command made her jump, and her eyes snapped open to land on a chiseled face.
Definitely not Wayne’s.
Had they sold her?
“Hey, honey. It’s August. You might not remember me. It’s been a while. We met a couple times. I’m a friend of your sister’s.”
Ivy fought to absorb the assault of words hitting her brain. Sister. Friend... August.
That was familiar. The best sex her sister had ever had. What were the odds this guy had the same name? Funny. She almost laughed at the thought. God, she missed Gigi. She floated back to her void, her skin fuzzy with comfort and—
“Ivy.” This time the voice was someone else’s. Someone angrier. She forced open her eyes and stared at the man hovering near her face.
Dark hair waved back from his olive-toned forehead. Fierce blue eyes held her gaze with intensity, challenging her to stay in the present and not slip back to the dreamless place. His eyes were mesmerizing, so clear and light compared to his dark eyebrows and five-o’clock shadow.
Had she died and gone to Heaven? Did Heaven have hot angels? I mean, why not?
“You need to drink,” the man said. His voice sounded distant, his lips not in sync with the sound of his words, like some poorly edited voice-over. Something ran over his right eye—a neat black line. She tried to study it, but her gaze kept wavering.
His fingers wiggled under her neck, and she let him support the weight of her head. He held a small packet near her lips. Her mouth craved moisture like a drought-baked field craved rain. She ran her dry tongue over her cracked lips and tasted salt. He must have already put drops in her mouth.
Poison? Couldn’t be worse than the stuff that’d been pumped into her veins.
“Electrolytes,” he said, answering her internal question. “If we don’t get you hydrated, you’re not going to survive.”
She blinked slowly, her eyes growing heavier by the second. Whoever this dark and dangerous guy was, her survival meant something to him and to—she flicked her gaze to the guy named August—the man staring at her with sad eyes.
A fog hung around her, making it hard to focus. Plus the room kept moving—wait, no, they were in a vehicle. Tires vibrated beneath her.
Realization hit her like a bolt of lightning. She wasn’t in the camper anymore. She wasn’t with Marty and Wayne. And these two men surrounding her like a bulletproof shield weren’t injecting her with drugs.
They’d saved her.
A whimper sounded from her throat, and her gaze darted around the vehicle. Was this a dream? A sick joke?
“That’s right, honey,” the guy holding her said softly. “We got you out. You’re going home.”
Her eyes burned and her throat constricted. “My sister,” she rasped. Her throat ached with the effort but she needed to speak. Needed to let Gigi know she was alive.
“She sent us,” August said.
It was the same August. Her eyes focused on him, and a sob caught in her chest. He squeezed her hand and rubbed her arm. “It’s all right. It’s all over. We’ve got a long drive, but we’re gonna get you home to Gigi. We need you to drink, though. You’re badly dehydrated and it’s not safe to go to a hospital right now.”
She met the other man’s gaze again, and he touched her lips with the packet, urging her. She opened her mouth, and he squirted the liquid inside. In seconds her body hummed, needing more of the life-awakening drops.
“There ya go,” he cooed.
She gasped when the packet was empty. August unscrewed a bottle of water, and she held out a shaky hand. She was definitely in Heaven and blessed with hot angels.
“I got it,” the guy holding her neck said. He brought the plastic bottle to her mouth, and as she chugged the water, she let her attention slip over his brawny, tattooed knuckles and up a muscular forearm. When she reached his face, his eyes locked hers in place. So intense. Anchoring. And the line over his eye was definitely ink. Some kind of teeny-tiny writing. Maybe symbols? Whatever it was, it made him appear deadlier than sin.
The cool water rushing into her mouth slopped down her chin and wet her shirt but she didn’t give a damn. She drank half the bottle and then felt herself grow listless.
The guy laid her head down and pulled away his hand, but she caught his wrist. Her arm was weak, her fingers shaky. But she didn’t want him to go. He seemed to get the message and shifted so he sat comfortably. August busied himself in his bag and spoke to someone else in the van—the driver, maybe.
“What’s your name?” she asked the dark angel.
His mouth quirked ever so slightly. Not really a smile. That action would be much too soft for a man with his face.
“Rami,” he said.
She nodded and tasted his name on her lips, rolling it off her tongue. “Thank you, Rami.”
“Rest.” He rubbed her arm and she snagged his fingers as sleep pulled her into its arms. This time, she welcomed it.