Chapter 7
Rami wasn’t a praying man, but some divine force needed his thanks for getting them out of Mexico alive. Well, the five grand Taschen had paid the Border Patrol agent he knew had also helped. Still, things could’ve easily gone south, and entering the United States with a half-dead missing woman was a surefire way to get themselves locked up in a Mexican prison.
It was 1:00a.m. when they pulled up to the motel an hour from the border. They were once again on American soil, but the threat was still viciously close. August hopped out and jogged to the front desk to book a room.
If Ivy had been in better shape, they would’ve kept driving. But as it stood, her life was still hanging in the balance. They might have saved her from human traffickers, but she was nowhere near out of the woods.
“She regain consciousness?” Taschen swiveled to throw the question toward the back.
Rami ran his fingers over her neck and stopped at her pulse, as he’d seen August do several times during the drive. “Barely,” he grunted.
August had said her pulse was stronger than when they’d found her, so the electrolytes and fluid must have helped. Still, despite his lack of medical training, Rami didn’t like the stringy thumping of her heart.
He stared at her face, so similar to that of the woman who’d stormed his office he could almost fool himself into believing that they were the same person. And yet, they were so different. He had no doubt he could tell them apart if they were standing side by side. Maybe he wouldn’t say that if Ivy weren’t in such bad shape, but the way she looked at him, the energy around her—she tethered his attention in a way Gigi hadn’t.
The van door opened, and August climbed in. “Room118. Last one at the end.”
Taschen drove the short distance across the parking lot. August got out first, grabbed his medical bag, and went to the door of the motel room. Rami scooped Ivy into his arms and pulled her against his chest. She didn’t move.
Taschen opened the back door and glanced around the dark, quiet parking lot. “Move. I’ll get the gear.”
Rami slid out the back of the van and hustled to the motel room. Despite the fact they’d just rescued the woman, carrying her unconscious body made his face heat with unease. August swung the door shut behind him and Rami made his way to the room’s only bed.
“One bed?” he asked, as he lowered Ivy onto the comforter.
“I got adjoining rooms. The other one has two.” August went to the door that connected the units and opened it.
Rami nodded. “’Kay. You gonna try for that IV?”
Taschen entered and August instructed him to take their bags to the other room.
“Yup. One of you needs to go to a store. She’s gonna need clean clothes, toiletries, shit like that.”
Rami stared down at Ivy’s sleeping face. Her eyelashes were so dark against her pale cheeks. Her breath was shallow. “Taschen can go.”
No way Rami was leaving. He wasn’t going to examine the reasons behind the adamant refusal, but every muscle in his body vowed to keep him rooted to her side until she pulled through.
“Okayyy,” August said, dragging out the word.
“Just get the shit.” Rami waved his hand, pulled up a chair next to the bed, and sat.
“She doing all right?” Taschen asked from the doorway to the other room.
“Yup. But you gotta go to the store. She needs clothes and stuff.”
Taschen’s tired gaze raked over Ivy. He opened his mouth as if about to complain then went to the hotel room door and shoved on his shoes. “There’s a Walmart down the road. Text me a list.”
Rami pulled out his phone and typed out everything Ivy would need, including clothes, shoes, and a toothbrush. He also added water and snack items to the list.
August set up the IV drip, hanging the bag off the sconce lamp that stuck out above the nightstand. He picked up Ivy’s right hand and cleaned her skin with an alcohol wipe.
Rami leaned forward in his chair, watching August’s every move. “Do you think her veins will hold the IV?”
August rolled in his lips as he wrapped an elastic band around Ivy’s biceps. “Hard to say. If it doesn’t work, we’re going to have to pivot.” He locked his gaze on Rami’s face. “Which means taking her to a hospital.”
Rami snorted. “If it was safe, we—”
“It’s that or she dies, bro.”
Rami nodded. “Do your best. We got her out, no way we’re going to let her die.”
Seemingly satisfied with that answer, August plunged the needle into her skin. He taped the tubing to her hand then removed the needle. “Catheter’s in.”
Relief reinvigorated Rami’s fatigued muscles. “Yeah?”
August shrugged. “We’ll keep a close eye, but so far so good. Now she just needs sleep.”
“How long before we can get on the road again?” They had a long fucking drive ahead of them. If Ivy were stable, he’d get on a plane with her and let the guys take the van back to Seattle, but there was no way they’d get through security with her looking like a poster child for Say No to Drugs.
August stood. “Depends. I’d say we’re stuck here for today.”
Rami cursed. It was a long time to stay still with the cartel after them. But there was nothing they could do but wait and hope she came around.
August looked down at her. “I’ll see if I can find an extra blanket. She needs to rest.” He went to the room’s only closet and pulled down a heavy fleece blanket.
Rami took it from him and spread it over Ivy’s body. Then he gingerly lifted her hand with the IV and placed it on the bed.
“I slept most recently,” August said quietly. “Why don’t you get some sleep and I’ll keep an eye on her for the next few hours? We’ll take shifts.”
Rami took in her beaten and dirty form. Once again, an ensnaring sensation inside him refused the idea of leaving her side. “I’ll stay. You sleep.” He sank down in the chair and ignored August’s interested stare. A beat later August went to the adjoining room, leaving the door open.
Rami knew he should be exhausted. Knew he should sleep regardless of the adrenaline that still fired through his veins. But he couldn’t. He needed to see her pretty hazel eyes again. The way the yellow hue pushed out the olive green, and her dark eyelashes surrounded the orbs that took his breath every time he looked at them.
But more than anything, he needed confirmation she hadn’t died on his watch. That he hadn’t in some way fucked things up.
Gigi had begged him to call day or night with any news. And while he didn’t have the energy for that, she deserved to know Ivy was out of the hands of the traffickers. A text wasn’t ideal, but it was better than nothing.
Hey, sorry to wake you. We found Ivy.
She’s safe right now but in rough shape.
I will call first thing in the morning with an update.
We’re still in the danger zone and need to be cautious.
—Rami
He made sure his ringer was off so any calls or messages wouldn’t disturb Ivy then he set his phone down on the nightstand and watched the steady rise and fall of her chest.
***
Ivy pulled herarms to her sides for warmth as a shiver racked her body. If she had enough strength she’d curl into a ball, but she couldn’t. Couldn’t risk them knowing she was awake.
Wait a second.
She hadn’t been cold in as long as she could remember. Normally she withered in sweat. She moved her tongue around the arid tissue of her mouth. She had to wake up and get water. She forced her eyes open and the room jackknifed.
These walls were different. The scent was musty but didn’t burn her nostrils, and she was lying on a bed with a fleece comforter tucked around her.
The events of the last time she’d woken rushed through her mind with the force of a slingshot.
Hot angels. Water. Sister.
“Ivy?” The gruff rumble was quickly followed by a hand on her wrist.
She snapped her attention to the thick dark fingers clamped around her forearm, and then her gaze traveled up to a bristly jaw.
One of the hot angels. She swallowed as his thumb rubbed her skin. “Glad you’re awake. Do you remember me?”
She wanted to say yes, but her body had other priorities. “I have to pee,” she said.
He blinked, his dark eyelashes erasing the concerned question in his crystalline orbs. “Uh. Sure.” He scratched his head. “Think you can stand?”
Standing was the second-last thing she wanted to do. The last thing she wanted to do was pee the bed. “Yes,” she said weakly.
“I’ll help you sit up.” He reached for her hand and her gaze fell on the tube poking out of her wrist.
She gasped.
No.No more drugs. She reached for the tube, but the guy grabbed her fingers before she could rip it out.
“Hey, you gotta leave that. It’s just fluids.”
Moisture misted her eyes, and she tried to wiggle out of his grasp. “I want it out.” Panic made her voice shrill.
“What’s goin’ on?” asked a man entering from an adjoining room. He yawned and looked at her. “Oh, shit. You’re up.” He approached the bed. His face immediately matched the one in her mind. He’d been one of the other angels who’d rescued her.
Or so they’d told her.
He patted his chest. “It’s me, August. Remember? I know your sister.”
The explanation he’d given earlier came rushing back. She nodded, and the tears that had collected in her eyes leaked out. “She hired you?”
He nodded. “Us. This is my friend Rami. The other guy you might’ve seen is Taschen. We’re in the U.S. now. You were in Mexico—did you know that?”
She shook her head. “How long have I been gone?”
His face tensed. “Sixteen days.”
God. Sixteen days of hell. Emotion pressed together the sides of her throat. She wiped her eyes, but the damn things wouldn’t stop crying, as if the IV were feeding her tear ducts a direct stream of fluid.
Rami’s hand moved to her arm. “It’s all right. Go ahead and cry. Lord knows I’ve seen enough tears from August over the years.”
August snorted and shot him a withering look. “Ignore him. But you’re going to be okay. What do you need? Water?”
She shook her head. “Bathroom.”
“Oh. Yeah, come on. I’ll take the tubing out. I’d like to put it back in when you’re done, though, if that’s okay? You need all the hydration you can get.”
“No more needles.”
He picked up her fingers and removed the tube, leaving the catheter in her hand. Then he grabbed a piece of medical tape and secured it. “No more needles as long as you’re careful with that. You can get it wet, though. It’s covered.”
Rami swept an arm under her shoulders and helped her into a sitting position. The bed whirled like a merry-go-round, and she clapped her hand over her mouth as nausea struck her. She wavered and closed her eyes. Saliva rushed to her mouth. She expected the men to back away, but instead, Rami held her shoulders firmly.
“Deep breath. Take your time.” She focused on his baritone voice. “Come on. In through your nose.”
Following his instructions, she took one slow breath, then another. After a minute, she opened her eyes. Rami was kneeled on the floor beside her legs and August stood leaning forward as if waiting for her to make a nosedive.
“All good?” August asked.
“Hardly,” she said dryly.
Rami smiled and helped her to her feet. Her knees trembled, and the shivering that had plagued her moments before turned violent. She moved out of his reach as he bent to pick her up but kept her arm braced on his.
“I can walk.” The declaration was almost funny considering she wobbled like a baby deer. She scanned the room until her gaze landed on a partially open door. A vanity was just visible beyond it. Only about a dozen paces. She could do it.
She took one step after another, urging her feet to move. Rami carried most of her weight, and in half a painstaking minute, she reached the bathroom. He flicked on the light and she winced.
“I got it from here,” she said.
He guided her closer to the vanity, and she gripped the counter for support. August showed up at the door with three grocery bags in hand. “Here are some clothes and toiletries. Try not to do too much and, uh, don’t lock the door. In case you fall.”
She forced a sound of agreement and Rami left, closing the door. Exhaling a heavy sigh, she sank to the toilet seat to do her business. Her legs shook just sitting there, so she kept holding on to the vanity.
A glance down at her body made a small cry catch in her throat. She wasn’t just filthy—she was disgusting. She brought her free hand to her hair and her fingers got caught in dirty, sticky tangles. Her skin was tinged brown, and several bruises marred her body from the beatings she’d gotten from Marty and Wayne.
She turned over her arm. The sight of scabbed track marks made fresh tears rush down her cheeks. Reality sunk in. She’d survived, but there was no telling what effects she’d suffer from all the drugs they’d given her. No way of knowing if the needles had been tainted with disease.
No going back from here.
She wasn’t Ivy anymore. An anguished cry escaped her lips, and she sucked in pitiful, ragged sobs.
The fact that her rescuers were on the other side of the paper-thin walls was irrelevant. She didn’t want to see them. Didn’t want to look at herself another minute.
She cleaned herself off and sank to the floor, pulling her knees to her chest. For the first time, she craved the drug they’d given her. Needed the void it promised.
Needed away from her new nightmare.
The door opened and she cringed. The only thing worse than what she was feeling right now was having a witness to her breakdown.
Warm, strong arms pulled her away from the wall of the tub and held her. “Shhh. Darlin’, it’s all over now.”
She gave a laugh that sounded like a sob. “All over? Look at me!” she shrieked, holding out her arm. Her hand trembled violently, and her chipped and dirty fingernails suggested she’d crawled out of the center of the earth.
Rami’s hand went to her cheek and cradled it. “I am looking at you.” His voice was firm, unshaking. “And you’re the strongest fucking person I’ve ever seen. Look what you’ve survived. Yeah, you’re a mess. So what? Get in the shower and wash it off. The rest will heal.”
She gulped down a gasp and swiped her face. “And if I’ve got a disease? Then what?” She spoke her deepest fear on a haggard whisper. Daring him to challenge her.
Needing someone to tell her she was wrong.
His thumb swiped beneath her eye. “Right now, it’s one step at a time. And I don’t think you survived all that for nothing.”
She wanted to believe him. Needed to find faith that God wanted her here. Ivy studied Rami’s face and swallowed. He was so big and strong. If circumstances were different, his sheer size would terrify her. But he’d used his arms to carry her, his weapons to protect her, and his fingers to wipe her tears. That much alone meant he wasn’t to be feared.
He squinted as if trying to read her mind. She circled her hand around his wrist. “Thank you.” The simple statement wasn’t enough, but it was a start. Her gaze landed on a cut along his jaw. “You’re bleeding,” she said, pointing.
Surprise crossed his face, and he blinked. Then he touched the spot with his knuckle. “Oh, someone got me with a nail.” Amusement rang in the words.
She widened her eyes. “Oh my gosh. I’m sorry.”
He chuckled. “Don’t be. Next time go for the eye—just not mine.”
Her lips twitched but the smile didn’t take hold. “I’ll remember that.” She flicked her gaze to the bathtub and embarrassment climbed her neck. “Um, I’d like to get clean.”
“I’ll fill up the tub.”
“No.” She scrunched up her nose. “I don’t want to sit in all this filth. I want a shower.”
He grimaced. “Do you think you can manage without falling?”
“I have to,” she said with a shrug. “I can’t stand another second like this.”
Rami’s eyes darkened a fraction and his body tensed. Not with sympathy but another emotion she couldn’t place. Anger? At her? “Let me get everything ready.” He stood and began to unpack some items from the bags.
He didn’t say anything, but his large, quiet presence calmed her nerves. She watched as his dark, tattooed arms removed some toiletries. He crossed in front of her to place the shampoo and conditioner in the shower. Without a word, he fisted his shirt from between his shoulder blades and pulled the material over his head. His muscled abdomen rippled as he shucked off his pants next.
Her mouth had been dry before but now it was as dusty as the desert she’d been rescued from. “Umm.” She wheezed with confusion. “What are you doing?”
Yes, he was attractive. Yes, he was scary—in a fascinating way. She had zero desire to check the dude out, but human instinct made her eyes burn with the effort it took not to gaze at his body in appreciation. His black briefs covered his junk and the tops of his thighs.
He stretched a hand toward her. “Not sure why you think you’re going to shower by yourself when you can barely stand.”
She inched up one shoulder. “I’ll be fine.” But the declaration was weak.
He caught her elbow and hauled her to her feet. “I won’t look and I’ll stay in my briefs. Last thing you need is a cracked-open skull.”
She fought a smirk. “Doesn’t sound so bad.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth she sucked in her breath as if she could vacuum them back in.
His eyebrows connected like opposite ends of a magnet. “Don’t do that. You’re alive, and a lot of people risked their lives to make sure that happened.”
A lump grew in her throat. “I’m sorry.”
He reached for the tap and jerked it on then flicked on the spray. “Don’t do that either. You have every right to feel sorry for yourself, but you, Ivy”—he leaned in and framed her face with his hands—“you need to be proud of the woman who’s still here. I sure as fuck am.”
Sincerity hung in his voice, and his eyes burrowed into hers with searing ferocity. All the wind left her lungs, and she fought the urge to melt into his warm flesh.
“Got it?”
She nodded.
“Good. Now let’s get you washed up.” He caught the hem of her shirt and paused. “I’m not going to touch you unless you need help. I’ll stand behind you so you don’t fall, and I won’t look. Okay?”
Like a bobblehead on steroids, she nodded again. He pulled off the material and the cool air hit her skin.
She glanced down at her bra—thank god it was black and wouldn’t show the dirt and stains. Nothing could be done about the smell, but if Rami was put off, he didn’t show it. As his fingers went to the snaps on her shorts, his knuckles grazed her belly. “Can you get these off?”
“Mm-hmm.”
He dropped his hands and glanced away as she pushed her shorts down her legs. She wobbled and he caught her biceps, steadying her while she kicked off the denim.
He stuck his hand under the water. “It’s ready. Just stay in your bra and underwear. You can take them off in a second.”
He grabbed her waist and lifted her to stand in the tub as if she weighed nothing, and then he stepped in behind her. Her back hovered inches from his front. The warm spray hit her chest.
“Go ahead,” he said. “I can’t see.”
Her knees trembled as she dragged the straps of her bra down her arms.
“Want me to get the hook?”
“Yes.” She probably couldn’t wrench her arm behind her. His fingers went to the center of her back, freeing her from the elastic band that’d confined her for two weeks. Her skin tingled as the water ran over the area.
She grabbed her soaking-wet bikini-cut underwear—also black because apparently God had wanted to save her from that mortification—and wiggled them down her legs. She tossed the bra and underwear onto the floor. If there were a fire nearby, she’d gladly have incinerated the filthy undergarments.
If she hadn’t been so violated and without privacy for so long, she might have been humiliated by standing naked inches from a hot dude in his briefs. Under the shower no less.
He kept his promise and didn’t touch her. Since she didn’t have eyes in the back of her head, she couldn’t be sure he hadn’t snuck a peak. But given how close his tall body was, it’d be hard for him to see much besides her shoulders and maybe the tops of her breasts.
“Better?” he asked, his husky voice clipped.
“Yeah.” And god was it ever. She held out her hands and let the water collect in her palms—the most glorious sensation. She moved toward the spray, away from his body a little, not caring that the space would allow him to see her ass if he tried. She needed the purification of the warm water more than she cared about modesty.
Not to mention he surely wouldn’t find her attractive. Sixteen days ago, maybe.
The water pelted her face and rolled down her cheeks. Tears leaked out of her eyes, mingling with the spray. She’d never dreamed she’d get to have a shower again. During her confinement, the only things she’d craved were water and her family, but washing her body clean of what she’d endured was now paramount.
Maybe she’d take the almost-naked stranger’s advice and be proud of the woman who’d survived.
Because she’d never be the same Ivy again.