Chapter 4
CHAPTER 4
Z ain tucked away the machete, bent to Rakesh’s body, and pulled out a set of keys. He stood and moved toward the woman. Her mouth popped open and she quickly snapped it shut. Tremors shook her body.
“I—I don’t understand,” she moaned. “What do you mean?”
He kept his eyes down because if he looked at her, he’d lose his composure. Maybe he’d been too harsh. But Jesus, she’d screwed him. More than she could imagine. It wasn’t her fault Rakesh had assaulted her. But she shouldn’t be here. Shouldn’t have been at the protest. Shouldn’t have risked her life.
In the last couple years, he’d witnessed a lot of gruesome shit that went against everything he believed in. Cruelty beyond measure. But he’d never witnessed a woman being raped, and it turned out that was the one thing he couldn’t tolerate .
She’d said his name. His mind ripped through a million possibilities. None of them made sense, but he didn’t have time to drill her. Rakesh’s absence would be noticed. They had to move.
He picked up her wrists and turned them over until he found the lock. In seconds he had her free. Tears coated her cheeks. Instinct made him want to tell her she’d be okay. But that was a lie. Cold hard truth was the only thing that might save them.
“They’ll kill us both, that’s what.” He finally met her eyes, and remorse flooded through him. Grave sadness that creased her forehead.
“I—” Shock was surely taking hold of her brain.
Zain raked his gaze over her. He picked up her niqab and handed it to her. “Can you walk?”
She nodded.
“Did he hurt you?”
She shook her head.
Gestures seemed to be all she was capable of. Not that he could blame her. Hot air rushed from his nostrils. “We need to move fast.” His gaze swung to the man who’d been jabbering on the floor. Zain couldn’t remember his name, but the guy wasn’t a threat. He’d been there weeks and could barely take a piss.
Zain stalked up to him and, in Pashto, ordered him to undress. When the man didn’t respond, he pulled out his gun and spoke more forcefully .
The man staggered to his feet and removed his clothes with shaking hands. Grabbing the piles of material, Zain dropped them at her feet. “Change.”
Her eyes bulged. “Um, I can’t wear that.”
“You’re the only woman in this entire compound. We won’t make it ten feet if you’re spotted.”
Rubbing her chafed wrists, she nodded. “Okay. But I’m wearing my clothes underneath.”
“That’s fine. Just hurry.”
She’d already stepped into the trousers and had the long tunic over her head before he could say more. He took in her long dark hair as she wound it at the base of her neck and secured it with an elastic she’d produced from her pocket.
Something flashed in her large blue eyes. He suspected she was balancing on the edge of sanity. Her hands shook as she held up the plain black turban the prisoner had surrendered. “I don’t know how to wear this.” Her voice was hollow. She looked up at him as if this would be the straw that’d kill them.
Tucking his weapon in its sheath, he took the material from her hands. “Come here.”
She stepped closer to him and her warm, feminine essence invaded his brain. Her presence was so soft, a sharp contrast to what he’d lived with for three years. She watched him warily as he wrapped the cloth around her head leaving a long tail to hang over her shoulder.
“Obviously you don’t have a beard, so we’ll be fucked if someone gets a good look at your face. Tuck this around your mouth.” He offered her the tail. “And stay at my side near the wall.”
She nodded solemnly.
“There’s a back way through the cave for emergency exits, but there are rooms at that end too. If we get stopped, well, I’ll have to kill whoever it is.”
Her breath hissed through her teeth. She caught his fingers, her hand tiny and alarmingly cold. “Zain... I’m sorry. I never meant to put you in danger.”
Once again, the use of his real name struck him like lightning. It’d been years since anyone called him that. Years since he identified with his true self. It sent him back in time. Questions sizzled on his tongue, but he swallowed them. If he got them both out of here in one piece, he’d get every detail from her.
He grunted. “I was in danger before you got here.” He paused then bent and removed a dagger from a sheath at his ankle. It was similar to the one Rakesh had. “Tuck this in your sleeve or against your side. Don’t use it unless you have to.” Hesitation filled him. He swallowed.
He had no intention of dying today. No intention of leaving a helpless woman to fend for herself against an army of murderers. But shit happened, and she had to know what she was up against. “And if something happens to me, cut your throat before they take you prisoner again.”
Tears immediately coated her eyelashes, and he almost wished he hadn’t spoken the words. What kind of animal had he become?
A predator, that’s what. Top of the food chain. Survival was all that mattered at this point.
“I mean it.” He caught her elbow and shook it. “If you think what Rakesh was going to do to you was bad, know that it’ll be far worse when they see he’s dead and you escaped. Don’t hesitate.”
The moisture spilled down her cheeks and he hardened his heart. “Do whatever I say.”
She dipped her chin in answer. He moved to the wooden cell door and eased it open. Voices sounded in the hall but weren’t close. He ushered her out of the cell then swiftly locked the door behind him.
If he could delay them finding Rakesh’s body, it would buy them a little extra time.
Keeping one palm on the handle of his machete, he grasped Dana’s elbow. Light from the flaming lanterns sent shapes and shadows to tango on the walls. He’d come this way several times and rarely encountered anyone this deep in the cave.
A few vehicles were parked out back. If they could make it there without being spotted, they might be able to get out of the compound before anyone found Rakesh or noticed the woman had escaped.
He glanced down at her. She kept her head tucked and the scarf around her face as he’d instructed. Her movements were quick, and trepidation emanated from her body.
The exit came into view. Moonlight spilled into the cave, illuminating the corridor as far as its arms could reach. He paused at the threshold and eased the woman behind a large rock right at the entrance. Guards circled the property at all hours. He often left to visit his home outside the compound, but right now he was on duty, so it wasn’t permissible for him to leave.
Tension gripped his muscles. Voices sounded from inside the cave and Zain cursed. It didn’t sound as if they’d spotted Rakesh, but it was only a matter of time.
“See that vehicle?” He nodded toward a beat-up beige truck, similar to one that’d been used in the convoy earlier that day.
“Yes.”
If he wasn’t on his last nerve he’d commend her for the strength in her voice. “We’re going to move fast. I want you to go ahead of me and get inside. There’s usually blankets in the cab. Get in and cover up with whatever you can.”
She nodded. He held up his palm and glanced around the corners before waving her in front of him. With his rifle in hand, he followed her across the dirt terrain to the truck. He scanned the landscape from east to west ensuring no one spotted them. The unoiled hinges squealed as she yanked open the driver’s side door and dove in the back.
Shit, shit, shit. It was Isaad.
Zain turned and forced his face to relax as Isaad exited the cave. “Isaad. I was just about to circle the perimeter,” he said in Pashto. “What can I do for you?”
Isaad’s gaze narrowed suspiciously. “Who’s with you?” The man kept moving forward.
Goddammit. Zain glanced to his left and to his right. The area was deserted. As Isaad reached him, he clapped the leader on the shoulder. “Come. We need to talk.”
If he could distract Isaad, he might not have to kill him.
The man jerked from Zain’s hold. “Who do you have?”
“A friend.” Yanking out his machete, he drove the blade through Isaad’s stomach.
Isaad’s eyes widened and his mouth gaped. He gasped, and blood sputtered from his lips. Zain yanked out the blade and caught Isaad with one arm across his chest. With his back to Zain’s front, Zain dragged him to the large rock the female prisoner had hidden behind a minute ago.
Isaad’s glassy eyes stared at the wall as Zain dumped him on the ground. Sweat coated his brow, but not from exertion .
He’d just made things a helluva lot worse.
After wiping the machete on Isaad’s pant leg, he sheathed the weapon and crossed the lot. He climbed in the driver’s seat and shut the door softly. His pulse beat in a sporadic rhythm against his eardrums. He turned the key that had been left in the ignition. He glanced at the woman in the back. “Stay down.”
“Did you kill him?” she asked breathlessly.
He clenched the steering wheel as he shifted into drive. “Yeah, I killed him. Didn’t have a choice.”
The vehicle hummed, loud like a fucking siren. He rounded the mountain and the guards and group members came into view. Tents were set up outside the cave for the people on duty, and the leaders’ quarters were inside.
Turning onto the main road that all traffic entering and leaving the compound used, Zain slowed. “I need to get clearance before I can drive out,” he called back, over the drone of the motor. “Don’t move or speak until I say.”
“Okay,” she called.
Jesus. He was insane. He’d lost his damn mind the minute he interfered with Rakesh’s assault. It’s not like he could have walked away, though. Nevertheless, he’d just made himself a wanted murderer, and one of the biggest terrorist groups in the Middle East would be after him by morning.
If he had that much time .
Tension coiled around his chest like barbed wire. He rolled down the window as he reached the checkpoint. One of the new guards, Zain couldn’t remember his name, approached the window with his rifle pointed at the ground.
“Your shift is done?” he asked in Pashto.
“I’m not feeling well,” Zain replied. “I’ll be back in the morning.”
The guard looked at the back seat and Zain’s blood pressure spiked, making his head throb. But then the man stepped back, signaled for the arm bar to be lifted, and waved Zain through.
He nodded in greeting and rolled out of the compound. The constriction on his chest eased and he let out a long exhale. Once the entry gate was far back in his rearview mirror, he pressed his foot harder on the gas.
“You can remove the blanket,” he shouted. “Stay down though, just in case.”
He cut his gaze over his shoulder just in time to see her face poke through the material. It was too dark to see her expression, but the rapid rising of her chest told him she’d been terrified.
“I need to make a call. Do you have a phone?”
He grunted. “I do, but it’s undoubtedly monitored. We’ll have to wait for calls to be safe.”
“Where are we going?”
“Don’t worry about that right now.” Part of him wanted her to get up front so he could ask her who the hell she was, but the risk was too great. All it’d take was for a guard with a sniper scope to spot her and they’d be doomed. He also wanted to see her face and read her expressions when they spoke. She might be in danger, but that didn’t mean he could trust her.
Not by a long shot.
***
Dana fought the urge to get out of the uncomfortable position. They weren’t out of the woods yet, and until he gave her the go-ahead, she’d keep down as instructed. She even held the blanket just below her chin in case she had to duck underneath again. The knife sat nestled on the seat at her side.
He’d taken two lives because of her. The lives of two men who would’ve killed her without batting an eye. Two men who could be behind past and future terrorist attacks in the US. But lives nonetheless. Was he upset with her? Had they been his friends?
And the biggest question: was he one of them? Because he sure seemed pretty chummy with everyone but Rakesh.
He’d rescued her and for that she was grateful, but there was no way to know what side he stood on.
“Shit,” Zain mumbled. He whipped around to glance behind them then brought his gaze to the road. The vehicle accelerated.
“What’s wrong?” She fought the urge to sit and look out the window. She was alive now and wanted to keep it that way.
“We’re being followed.”
She inhaled sharply. Oh god. Of course escaping couldn’t have been so easy. Not that killing two men was a walk in the park, but there hadn’t been any gunshots or bombs, which she’d anticipated.
“There’s two vehicles that I can see,” he said loudly.
Hopelessness flooded her. All this because of her. She sniffed back the pressure building in her sinuses. Crying would do absolutely nothing right now except make them both uncomfortable. But the fact was, neither of them were getting out of this. She hadn’t come here to get Zain killed, and that might be all she’d succeeded in doing. “Just let me out here,” she said, her voice sounding far braver than she was. “With any luck they won’t come after you and will never know your involvement.”
He cast a quick glance at her. “Not happening.”
She opened her mouth to argue, but he took a sharp turn down a gravel road squashed by forest. Her body rolled, and she grabbed the front seat for support.
“I know these mountains. I’ve spent a lot of time learning every road and cave. We’ve got a shot at losing them, but we’ve gotta be quick. ”
He drove wildly on the uneven terrain, whipping the truck around corners and bumping down low-grade hills. Nausea sloshed against her stomach lining, and she swallowed the urge to throw up. She didn’t have a gun, but she could at least be the eyes in the back. Creeping onto her knees, she hung tightly to the back seat and poked up her head.
“I said stay down.”
“You can’t see behind you and drive,” she shot back. The flash of headlights came around the bend and cut through the trees. “They’re behind us.” If losing them on the gravel road had been his only hope, then they were sunk.
She clung to the seat, unable to tear her gaze away from the menacing trucks closing in on their tail. Panic buzzed in her ears like an angry swarm of wasps. Zain growled something at her, but she couldn’t focus on a word he said.
A rough hand seized her arm, jerking her away from the back window. “Get down, for fuck’s sake!”
Crack! Crack!
Bullets pinged off the truck. Dana screamed and covered her head. Zain’s hand ruthlessly held her down between her shoulder blades. She didn’t bother telling him that nothing short of freedom would entice her to pop up again.
The smack of another bullet hitting the glass pulled a scream from her lungs. Her pulse beat ferociously against her skull, and fear sat hot and stagnant in her chest.
An engine roared behind them, and Dana fought the whimper escaping her lips. More gunfire spewed. A jarring pop sounded, and the truck careened to the side. “The tire!” she cried. Dana grabbed the seat in front of her and lifted her head. Zain’s chiseled jaw held tension, and his shoulders and biceps rippled.
“Hang on.” He spoke through gritted teeth. The truck started to slow, and ice spread through her limbs. He lifted his gaze to the rearview mirror. “Fuck!”
Crash!
A vehicle slammed into them from behind. Dana’s head bounced into the front seat. The impact blotted out her vision. Zain’s voice sounded far away; his words barely punched through the thick fog dulling her senses. Keeping her hands glued to the seat for support, she found his concerned expression. Blood trickled from above his brow.
They’d stopped. Dear god, no.
A man appeared at Zain’s window. “Look out!” she cried.
Zain turned to shove open the door. The crack of punches reached her ears. The knife. She had to find it. Forcing down the violent nausea pressing against her palate, she swept her hands along the floor of the truck .
Her fingers brushed the metal handle. Yes!
The back passenger door flew open, and rough fingers grabbed her arm and dragged her from the back seat to land with a thud on the road. Someone ripped the turban from her head and shouted in Pashto. A hand sunk viciously into her hair. Fire lit her scalp as she was hauled to her feet. She let out a howl. The scream opened a bottle of rage, and all her training rushed to the forefront of her mind, chasing away the fear.
She tightened her grip on the knife and swept it at her attacker. The man leapt out of reach and the knife licked his shirt, missing his flesh. He let go of her hair but her scalp pulsed from his abuse. The man’s eyes turned dark and his fist smashed against her cheekbone, but she caught herself before she fell.
She dove for him again. This time the knife sliced across his forearm. He roared through gritted teeth. His eyes, fiery coals of death, were pinned on her. She threw her weight to her left leg and landed a roundhouse kick to the side of his head. He staggered and fell to the road.
A grunt sounded from the other side of the vehicle, and Dana’s heart rate spiked. Was Zain hurt?
The man on the ground dove for her legs, taking her out at the knees. She landed hard on her back and air whooshed from her lungs. A burning sensation spread across her chest and wrapped around her neck, but she forced the paralyzing wave from her muscles and drove the knife into the man’s side.
His face contorted as he looked down at the dagger sticking out of his torso, beneath his ribs. Blood spread across his white shirt. Murder flashed in his eyes, and he caught her throat in his hand, his weight bearing down on her jugular. Harsh words flew from his tongue, and spit sprayed her face.
Warmth spread across her cheeks. Her blood stagnant around her ears, trying to move through her body. Her chest ached. She twisted and squirmed, small sounds of desperation coming from her mouth. Consciousness flickered, and she struggled to hang on, to focus on something—anything that would keep her tethered to awareness.
His soulless eyes blocked out the beautiful night sky. He brought his face close to hers and shouted words she couldn’t understand, hatred she couldn’t deny. He produced a gun and ground the nozzle beneath her chin. She closed her eyes, waiting for the bullet to enter her head. Tears leaked out of her eyes, but she swallowed the plea on the tip of her tongue.
Wham!
The sound was familiar. Fist on bone. The grip on her throat went slack, and the gun beneath her jaw fell away. She sucked in a ragged breath and quickly opened her eyes. Zain stood over them, a fierce, towering mass of masculinity. His body seemed to vibrate with fury, and his eyes shimmered with disgust.
He delivered another punch to the man who’d nearly killed her. The attacker’s body folded on the gravel road, and blood dribbled from his nose and the corner of his mouth. Zain picked up the weapon, aimed, and fired a bullet into the guy’s head. The sharp noise made her jump.
Tremors took over her body. Her scalp throbbed, and tears coated her cheeks. The poignant taste of near-death clung to her tastebuds. Zain pocketed the gun, then bent close to her.
His gaze searched her face, and his knuckles touched her jaw. “Are you hurt?”
She didn’t nod. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t do a damn thing but stare at the savage savior who’d walked through blood and death yet still looked at her in awe.
Blood stuck to his ebony eyebrow and snaked around his eye. Dirt marred his olive skin, and menace gave his amber eyes an ethereal glow. He was the most dangerous, alluring human being she’d ever faced.
She didn’t answer his question. Her gaze darted around the road. “Where are the others?”
“Dead.”
She looked back at him. He didn’t even blink. “ Can you stand?” Concern swaddled his words, the softness a blaring contradiction to his rough appearance.
“Yes.” The syllable came out weak. Strained. Pathetic.
But it didn’t matter because right now she was all of those things. His arm came around her waist, supporting her weight as he gently lifted her to her feet.
Cortisol infused her cells, her body still anticipating another attack. Zain kept his hand firmly on her side. Her gaze lowered to the split tire. “We don’t have a vehicle,” she said. As that revelation settled, the forest seemed to close in around them.
Zain held up a set of keys. “We’ve got a new ride.” He led her to the attackers’ truck, almost identical to the one that’d just been wrecked, and opened the passenger door.
He moved his hand to her bicep as she climbed into the front seat.
“I lost your knife.”
“You saved yourself. There’s a difference.” His body hovered close to hers as he grabbed the seatbelt and stretched it across her waist then clicked it in place. He shut the door, rounded the truck, and jumped in the driver’s seat.
She wanted to correct him. To tell him she hadn’t saved herself at all. He had. Stabbing the man had weakened him but not enough. Had Zain not shown up, she’d be dead by now .
A distant rumble sounded. The blood drained from her face. She clamped her hand on Zain’s arm. “Do you hear—”
“There’s more of ’em.” He started the truck and peeled away from the scene. In seconds, they turned down a narrow dirt road. Zain’s focused gaze stayed on the road, and he gripped the top of the steering wheel. “One of the guys made a call on his radio before I could get to him. We need to hide.”
Fear pierced her tongue with the sharpness of one thousand needles. This was far from over.