Chapter 16
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THE DOOR OPENED, AND an older man limbered into the ramshackle room, causing Quinn to jolt in surprise.
She hadn’t seen him before, and he barely glanced her way as he ambled closer, dumping a bowl of food onto the ground beside her.
Yes—he literally dumped it out, evidently expecting her to scoop it up with her bare hands or eat it like a damn dog.
A canteen landed beside her next, and she greedily grabbed it, taking several swigs of water as he made a slow exit.
If she got some sort of parasitic infection from drinking contaminated water, so be it.
She could just as easily die of dehydration in the desert.
She watched his silhouette move toward the open doorway, the sun once again setting. Had she been here twenty-four hours? It felt like a damn lifetime. And this was the first food she’d been given.
Quinn quickly scanned the area she could see beyond the open door, noticing the hustle and bustle outside.
What was going on? Adam had claimed they’d be married tonight, but she was certain no one would be rushing around like the men were for a sham wedding.
And where was Adam anyway? He’d been gone nearly the entire day.
She eyed the door for a beat longer, the old man not even glancing back as he tugged it closed behind him.
He’d left the bowl on the ground beside the food, so she reached over and scooped it in, leaving the dirtiest food on the floor. Adam would probably be mad, but he wasn’t here. And she wasn’t the one who’d purposefully dumped the food out anyway.
She hesitated a moment, wondering if it had been laced with drugs. No. Adam probably wanted her alert for their “wedding.”
Her stomach roiled.
Despite the nerves quaking through her, she needed to eat. She could hardly hope to escape if her body was weak from no food or water.
The rumble of a truck outside drew her attention next, and she realized multiple vehicles were driving past. She couldn’t see them, but shadows crossed the tarp strewn across the window.
She didn’t know what was happening, but she didn’t like it.
She could almost sense the urgency in the air.
Nothing occurring at this terrorist camp would be good.
Scratch that—she’d be happy to see its destruction.
Turning her attention to the food she’d scooped up, Quinn inhaled the aromatic scent of the rice, taking a few hesitant bites.
What choice did she have? She had no idea how long she’d be a prisoner here.
At the first opportunity, however, she’d run.
There was no way she was going to play wife to Adam for the rest of her life, letting him repeatedly rape her.
She was thankful he hadn’t touched her yet, but time was running short, and she knew it.
Quinn slowly finished eating, letting her stomach adjust to the idea of being full.
She’d managed to do okay all day without any food, but that was somewhat due to the shock and adrenaline still coursing through her.
When the reality of her situation set in, Quinn had a feeling she’d fare differently.
She took a few more sips of water, wondering where she was meant to use the bathroom.
She didn’t have enough food or liquid in her now for that to be a concern, but the time would come.
She tugged fruitlessly at the rope again, noting with disdain that Adam had bound her closer to the bed.
Everything about this was sick and twisted.
Her friends and colleagues at home would be looking for her right now.
Had anyone told her parents that she was missing?
Would they even have any clue as to where to start their search?
She’d been so out of it, heavily drugged, she couldn’t recall parts of her ordeal even if she wanted to.
Quinn sucked in a breath, trying to control the anxiety suddenly churning through her.
Half an hour later, Adam reappeared, and much to her surprise, he cut her rope free from the ground. A meaty hand gripped her arm, yanking her to her feet. Quinn cried out in fear, and he swore. “We’re leaving. Move!”
Confusion washed over Quinn as he hustled her out the door, and they hurried toward an idling vehicle.
She hastily pulled the remaining rope free from her wrists, wondering if he’d notice or care.
She’d assumed the fake wedding would be occurring right here in this encampment, but she had a hard time believing it was happening at all tonight. Something was going on. Something big.
Quinn was shoved into the back of a vehicle, Adam climbing in beside her. It wasn’t entirely unlike her arrival just a day before, but there was a ton of movement outside this time. Was the camp packing up?
Adam began talking in Farsi to their driver, and the vehicle rumbled off, following in a caravan of sorts.
The encampment passed by her window once more—shacks and tents.
Crates and bags of supplies. Weapons. They didn’t seem to be leaving for good—not with the amount left behind.
Or were they in such a rush, they couldn’t take it all with them?
For a brief second, she noted the beauty of the land around her as they picked up speed—the brilliant colors of the sky, the mountains behind them. Except she was in a war-torn country, being held against her will.
Adam didn’t bother to hide her from view this time, so she watched the scenery pass by.
She much preferred this to being shoved down, her head on his lap.
Quinn resisted the urge to shudder. It was best she acted as quiet and compliant as possible.
Her eyes landed on the door handle. Adam was distracted, arguing with the driver.
She could probably jump out, but then what?
She was surrounded. It’s not like she had anywhere to run at the moment, not out in the open like this.
They’d hurt her if she tried to escape right now, of that Quinn was certain.
The caravan of vehicles rolled through the desert, away from the encampment near the mountains. Every once in a while, she’d hear machine-gun fire, but it was distant. Were the men she was with shooting at others, or was someone targeting them?
Quinn had no idea.
Frowning at the scenery whizzing by the window, she wondered if they were heading back toward Kabul.
There seemed to be a city in the distance.
She wracked her brain, trying to recall basic geography of Afghanistan.
Kabul was obviously the biggest city. There was Kandahar.
Jalalabad. No doubt other places she hadn’t heard of or couldn’t recall.
But what was the goal?
At one point the convoy turned, abandoning the road and heading west, toward the setting sun.
She squinted against the blinding light.
Not even fifteen minutes later, they’d circled around and returned to the highway.
The terror cell’s movements seemed haphazard and not very well-thought-out.
Were they on the run from someone? Didn’t these guys usually hide out in the mountains?
It seemed odd to be driving closer to civilization.
They were nearing the outskirts of the city as the sun sank lower in the sky, the trucks rumbling along—
The first blast had her screaming in surprise, ducking down in the moving vehicle as a truck up ahead suddenly exploded, flames and debris shooting skyward. Machine-gun fire filled the air, and Quinn screamed again, terrified.
Was someone attacking them? Had the truck run over an IED?
Several vehicles stopped as more explosions sounded, but their driver swerved around the others, gunning it and racing toward the city.
Gunfire echoed around them, and Quinn looked out the window, seeing at least two trucks completely engulfed in flames.
Something else was happening in the distance, with vehicles heading their way, but she had no idea if they were friend or foe.
Another explosion sounded behind them, Adam swearing beside her as Quinn cowered in fear. Her driver was yelling something in Farsi, and Quinn had never been so terrified in her life.
When they reached the edge of the city, it was pure chaos.
Crowds rushing. Cars honking. People pushing to get by.
Their vehicle was nearly swarmed, and the driver plowed through the crowd.
When they reached a barricade and couldn’t go any further, Adam gripped her arm as they abandoned the vehicle, and a fresh flood of fear washed over her.
The sound of gunshots continued to fill the air, and she cried out, ducking down.
There were more shouts and armed men rushing in various directions.
Adam hustled her down the block, yelling and gesturing to more of his fellow jihadists in the distance.
Quinn nearly stumbled, catching sight of multiple men holding machine guns.
Where were they taking her? Frantically, she looked around in confusion, her heart thundering in her chest. She saw Adam pocketing his phone, scanning the crowd.
There were more angry shouts, and she was shoved forward.
Suddenly, one of the terrorists she was with collapsed to the ground, blood pooling beneath his head. Quinn screamed as Adam shoved her down, reaching for his weapon. More shots sounded, and panic crashed through her.
Was the crowd attacking them?
Adam pulled a gun from his waistband, haphazardly firing shots into the air.
Quinn got to her feet, staying crouched low, and stumbled to the side, wondering if this was her one chance to escape. Her headscarf fell off, and fresh panic washed over her. She’d stand out with the purple streak in her hair. Then again, she was a white woman. She didn’t blend in anyway.
Quinn began to run away while Adam was distracted, panic coursing through her. She had to get help. She had to escape.
“Quinncess!”