Chapter 12
CHAPTER 12
E very bump on the gravel road made Zain clench his jaw tighter. He didn’t like their odds. Didn’t like that they were still ten miles from the airport. Nor did he like the way Dana sat limp and quiet next to him.
He fought the urge to pull over and inspect her injuries. He didn’t dare. Neither he nor Brick had spoken since Dana had asked her devastating question. Because goddammit she was right. There was no sign that they were being followed. He’d thrown Ali’s and the guard’s phones out the window about three hundred yards from where they’d left him.
Ali certainly hadn’t found the devices, but hell, anyone on the road could’ve stopped and given him access to a phone.
Zain could only hope to god they reached the airport before Ali got the upper hand. If not, like Dana had said, they wouldn’t make it out of here. But he didn’t speak his doubts aloud .
They were too fucking close to lose now.
He pulled out his phone.
“Hey man, kinda risky to make a call now, don’t you think?”
“It’s important.” He hit a number on his screen and brought the phone to his ear.
“Who are you calling?” Dana asked, her brow pinched.
“A friend.” He gave her a knowing look.
Maxine answered on the third ring. He’d called her private line. “I’m glad to see you’re still alive,” she said.
“Barely,” he ground out. “We’re in a predicament and I need your help.” He quickly gave her a diluted version of what’d happened and explained that they might need some grease to get through security.
“I’ll see what I can do. How long until you get there?”
“Fifteen, twenty minutes.”
She made a sound. “I can’t promise anything, but I’ll try.”
“Thanks.” He just hoped she cared enough to make the fucking call a priority. They couldn’t miss their plane.
Fifteen minutes later, they pulled up to the airport. Cars and trucks lined the parking lot, and Zain found a spot not too far from the doors.
Dana got out and wobbled on her feet. Zain gripped her bicep and held her in place before she could walk off. “I need to know if you’re hurt. Tell me what’s going on.”
She closed her eyes. It seemed any head movement was unbearable. “I hurt. Everywhere. But I think it’s just the shock wearing off. I don’t suspect anything serious.”
He slid his hand under her jaw and examined her eyes. “Nausea?”
“Yes.”
“Headache?”
“Mmm.”
“Ringing in your ears?”
She bobbed her head half an inch then winced.
He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, doused it in water from one of Ali’s bottles, and wiped the blood from her temple. “You should clean up too,” he said to Brick, who was standing mindlessly next to them. Although the guy wasn’t bleeding, he was sweating profusely and appeared rougher than he should.
“Good call.” He took out a shirt, poured water on the material, and washed his face.
When Zain had the blood cleaned from Dana and she no longer looked suspicious, he worked on himself. After changing his shirt, bandaging the cut on his eyebrow, and washing his face, they could pass for people who’d been traveling too long and were in desperate need of showers.
“If you feel faint, let me know,” he told Dana, as he offered his arm for support .
She greedily leaned her elbow against his forearm, and they made their way to the entrance.
Ten minutes later they stood in line at security. The airport wasn’t busy despite it being midday. They’d probably missed the morning rush. Zain handed his passport to the guard, who examined it under a flashlight. The man flicked his gaze from the passport to Zain, his face stoney. He handed back the small booklet and motioned for him to continue through.
But then Zain saw the guard speak into a mic on his shoulder.
Fuck.
He placed his carry-on onto the conveyor belt, then walked through the metal detectors. No alarms went off, but that didn’t stop anxiety from puckering his shoulder blades together.
Two guards approached from the terminal, and warnings screeched in his head. It took every effort for him not to pull one of the guns from the guard’s waist. He had to keep cool.
The reality was that a prison for Americans, especially ones in their current position, wouldn’t be a safe place for either of them.
Dana came through next. She’d stopped at a store in the airport to purchase a hijab. The fabric framing her face covered the cut on her head and made her appear a little less disheveled. But her sallow skin and wide, wary eyes hit him like a punch to the gut. She clearly noticed the same shifting energy. They were still in danger.
As she lifted her chin and walked through the metal detector, he wanted to hug her for her bravery. Brick came through next.
One of the new guards approached. “Sir, we have orders to escort you to your plane. Follow me, please.”
Zain caught Dana’s hand and nodded. “Thank you.”
Brick handed Zain his bag and carried Dana’s and his. Zain’s gaze scanned the terminal as they followed the guards. For all he knew, they were being led to police cars. Or a firing squad. But if his instinct was correct, their escort meant Maxine had come through for him.
They reached an exit, and one of their guards scanned his badge over the keypad. The door opened and warm air hit Zain’s skin. Dana moved in close to him as they walked outside.
No police cars. No cops. A private plane sat waiting on the tarmac. The pilot waiting by the steps grinned at Brick.
Relief started to settle in around him. Jesus Christ. They just might make it out of here.
“Your chariot awaits,” the pilot said jokingly.
Brick pulled him into a hug. “Jake! It’s been too long.”
“Have a safe flight.” The guards turned and made their way back to the airport.
Some of the pressure left Zain’s chest. “Can we get out of here?” he interrupted, before Brick and his buddy decided to get caught up.
“Yeah, we’re, uh... in a hurry,” Brick said.
Jake grimaced as he led the way up the steps. “Is that it? Your message—and bribe—made it seem like you were in some kind of trouble. Lucky for you I was in Dubai.”
Brick snorted. “Shit ended up getting even worse. How soon can we get in the air?”
“Soon as you folks are buckled.”
Dana’s hand was cool and damp in Zain’s. He massaged her fingers for reassurance, but until they were well above the ground he wouldn’t be at ease.
The air in the plane was cool and the six seats a little tight, but the Cessna gleamed. It had white leather seats and wooden trim accents. At the back was a small counter with a bar fridge and a microwave.
Dana slid into one of the seats at the back, and Zain took the chair across the narrow aisle from her. Brick sat up front, one row separating them.
Jake closed the door, muffling the sounds of the jets around them. Another man popped out from the cockpit. He was several inches shorter than Jake and looked to be in his late forties. “This is Thomas,” Jake said. “My copilot. We’ll be taking you guys home today. We’ve got a long flight with a couple of stops to refuel. Help yourself to food from the kitchenette, and otherwise just relax.”
Dana buckled her seatbelt and gripped the armrests. Zain did up his own buckle while Jake ensured bags were secured. The pilots disappeared inside the cockpit, and a minute later, the engine fired up and they taxied down the runway.
With the hum of the motor in his ears and the blue sky filling the window, Zain’s anxiety lessened. If someone would’ve told him two days ago that he’d be on a plane back to the US, he’d have laughed his ass off.
He moved his gaze from the puffy white clouds to Dana’s pale complexion. A bell dinged, notifying them they could move about the cabin. Zain got to his feet and went to the kitchen. He found chicken wraps, chips, and water bottles as well as a first aid kit.
Making his way back to his seat, he placed some food on Dana’s tray.
For a moment she looked surprised, and she stared at him with glassy eyes. His gut tensed. She was either exhausted or injured more than they’d thought.
“Thank you.”
He caught her cheek in his hand and slowly peeled back her hijab. “Do you have any pain?”
Her eyes flickered. “Everywhere.”
Fuck. “I should have properly assessed you after the crash.”
She closed her eyes. “It’s my head more than anything.”
He dug into the first aid kit and found some ibuprofen. He shook a couple into her hand and unscrewed her water bottle. She tossed back the pills, wincing as she swallowed. Her hand trembled as she lowered the bottle.
“I’m going to start at your head. If anything hurts, tell me.”
He felt her scalp. As his fingers brushed over a goose egg, she winced. He grunted then moved on to her neck. She didn’t wince until he turned her head to the side. “Hurt there, too?”
“My neck, yeah.”
Using four fingers, he probed down her spine, then went to her shoulders, elbows, and wrists. She winced again when he lifted her left hand. “There too?”
“I don’t think it’s serious.”
He turned over her hand to look for swelling, but there wasn’t any. He made a note to check it later. “I need you to lift up your shirt.”
She blinked.
“I want to check for signs of internal bleeding or anything that might need bandaging.” He hadn’t spotted any blood on her, but with the dark clothing it’d be hard to tell.
She shifted forward in her seat, turned her back and inched up the material. Her hand shook, so he took the shirt and rolled it up himself. Her back looked clear, but he hadn’t expected to find much there since her back was against the leather when they crashed .
Next, he probed around her hips. She winced again, but not as much. He gestured for her to turn and she did. His male hormones made his focus linger a little too long on her narrow waist. The slim, tanned skin begged for his attention, but he brought his fingers to the neckline of her shirt and tugged it to the side to see her shoulder instead. “Looks like a bruise from the seatbelt. You’ve got one here too,” he said, pointing to the opposite side of her waist. The exact spots she’d assumed had been hit the worst.
Other than that, no alarming bruises called to him. He rolled down her shirt and went on to check her knees and ankles. Once again, she didn’t complain.
“Satisfied?” she asked, her voice groggy.
He took a flashlight from the first aid kit. “I’d be more satisfied if you told me more about how you’re feeling.”
She gave a little sigh as he checked her pupils. “My head feels like it’s going to explode, my neck pulses with every movement, and I have a ringing sound in my ears.”
“Nauseated still?”
“Yes.”
“You could have a mild concussion, but it’s hard to tell. I think some food and sleep would help.”
“I’m really not hungry.”
He popped open the bag of chips. “Then just have a couple of these and some water and I’ll leave you alone until we land in Seattle.”
Her lips twitched. “Promise?”
“Cross my heart.” He made an X over his chest but quickly held up his crossed fingers, showing he was full of shit.
A smile softened her lips. She wriggled her fingers into the snack-sized bag and removed some plain salted chips. “There,” she said, crunching on them.
“Water, too.”
She huffed through her nose. He suspected she would’ve rolled her eyes if she weren’t experiencing so much discomfort, but he was happy to see a bit of personality back. She sipped half the bottle of water and then reclined in her seat.
Zain reached for the blanket on the seat in front of him and draped it over her legs.
“Thank you,” she said, sincerity in her tone.
He brushed his fingers over her cheek, wishing he could erase all that’d happened to her. But all he could do was mitigate some of the damage. “Sleep.”
Dana pulled the blanket closer to her chin and closed her eyes. Part of him wanted to sit and watch her to make sure she didn’t suffer any more side effects of the crash. But if seeing his violence hadn’t freaked her out, surely having him stare at her while she slept would.
He also fought the urge to talk to Brick. He wanted to drill him for information on Ali—and anything else he could tell him regarding the crash—but he didn’t have the energy. A deep ache twisted his bones, and the pressure from the altitude had brought forth a driving headache.
Plus, his back hurt like a bitch, probably from the awkward position he’d held himself in to shield Dana from the impact.
An explosion. Christ.
He could’ve lost her. If he hadn’t seen the IED coming, if he hadn’t been leery of Ali... He’d witnessed firsthand the brutality of war weapons. Anger bunched his thighs at the thought of what could’ve happened.
Unable to sit still, he ate some food, then stared out the window. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t keep his eyes away from the sleeping beauty beside him for more than a minute.