Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Atlas kept his gaze on Molly’s slouched form. The sight of her ashen cheeks and sunken eyes made him want to wake her for another dose of electrolytes. Her cold, slim fingers twitched in his palm. He held them tighter.
He looked at Viper, who sat in the seat across from where Atlas sprawled on the helicopter’s floor. His friend shook his head sympathetically. He reached for his headset and pulled it on over his ears. “Go,” he said to Viper.
“You’ve got it bad, man.”
“I’ve got nothin’ but a headache. What’s your deal?”
“He’s not wrong,” Rogue said from the seat behind him.
Atlas glared at his boss. “She’s been through hell. A little compassion goes a long way.”
Rogue snorted. “You’ve got more than compassion. Besides, for all we know she was screwing Rex.”
His body temperature rose. “Even if she was, doesn’t mean it’s okay to chain her up and fucking starve her.”
Rogue nodded, his attention now out the window and disengaged from confrontation. “So what do we do with her?”
“She needs a hospital—or a place to rest at the very least. We should take her to Panama City.” With supervision, he thought. He couldn’t imagine dropping off the woman at a motel and leaving her.
Even with food and water, she might not survive.
“Dude, we’re like twenty minutes from Sagreja.”
“There’s no hospital there.” Sagreja had a small medical center with limited hours, and it was far away from the city. He hadn’t asked if she had family close by.
Rogue’s expression hardened. “We’re here for Rex. This isn’t a rescue mission.”
“It is now,” Atlas snapped.
“Hey,” Wraith said from the cockpit. “We can do both, lads.”
Atlas locked his jaw and steered his gaze to the window. Nothing but endless darkness surrounded them. If anyone besides Reaper were flying the bird, he’d be nervous.
Swallowing his pride, he steadied the anger bubbling up inside him. He couldn’t be mad at Rogue for doing his job. He was lead, after all, and it was his responsibility they got the mission done.
With Rex escaping, everyone was pissed, especially Rogue. But leaving a woman to die wasn’t a viable option. “What’s your call?” he asked.
Rogue flicked his gaze to Molly, and the hard edge in his eyes softened. “We can’t detour all the way to Panama. We’ll lose any chance of locating Rex.”
“Agreed,” Atlas admitted grudgingly.
Rogue sighed. “We’ll land in Sagreja as planned.
You’ll have our ride there and can take her somewhere for the night—stabilize her.
The five of us will find Rex. When we’re done, we’ll meet you in Sagreja and all of us will return to Panama City.
If you can locate her family or someone in the meantime, that’d be ideal. ”
Or someone.
Did she have a family? Had she been reported missing? Christ, he hoped to hell she wasn’t Rex’s plaything.
Fifteen minutes later, the bird landed and the woman still hadn’t woken. Which was alarming as fuck—the heli was loud. He carried her to their tinted-out SUV, lay her across the back seat, and shut the rear door.
Rogue waited in front of the SUV, his hands tucked into his vest, his expression grim. The headlights illuminated his best friend’s face. Strain creased the corners of his eyes. “Be careful.”
Atlas snorted. “What, you think she’s gonna hurt me? She weighs like a buck and has shitty aim.”
Rogue smirked. “You know what I mean. We know nothin’ about her. Need to stay on the offense.” He shifted his weight. “But she could be the key to finding Rex. He might come looking for her.”
Atlas cringed at the idea of that bastard getting anywhere near Molly. Not after what he’d already done to her. He didn’t know the woman, but the signs of abuse were unmistakable. And he’d be damned if he let it happen again.
“I’d better get her taken care of.” Regret ate at him. He dragged his hand over his hair. “Fuck, it feels wrong parting ways. I—”
Rogue clapped him on the shoulder. “We can’t leave her. Either you stay, or one of the others does. There’s no help for it.”
He grunted, nodding. “I’ve got it.”
“Good.” Rogue walked a few paces toward the field were the heli waited. “Try to get some intel from her. She might know where we can find Rex.”
“I will.” He watched Rogue jog across the sun-burnt field, then hopped in the driver’s seat. He glanced at the back seat. Molly was still sleeping.
He drove to the little motel where he and the guys had stayed the previous night and asked for the same room. Travelers through here were few, so his request was granted. Five minutes later he stalked into the small room.
Terracotta tile met his feet, and an air conditioner rumbled from the window. Shit, he’d forgotten how noisy that beast was and how it squeaked before conking out once the room was cold. Oh, well. At least he wouldn’t sweat his bag off tonight.
He turned on the light and Molly winced, groaning.
Some of the tension in his chest loosened. Finally, fuck.
“Hey, sleepyhead.” He closed his eyes with a huff of annoyance at himself. The fuck was he thinking giving her a nickname?
She opened her eyes. Dazzling amber irises, glittering with alarm, widened on his. He waltzed toward the bed and laid her on the thin coverlet. She fisted the bedding and scooched backward an inch to lean against the headboard.
“Easy, you’re good. Remember me?” He took a few steps back.
Slowly, she nodded.
“Good. You need to drink. And eat. Then I might see about getting that IV in you for good measure.”
He grabbed a water bottle from the case at the dinette table, then pulled a chair up next to the bed. “I stayed in this room last night. It’s decent. Bathroom’s over there.” He nodded to the narrow door across the room. “TV’s shit. Bed’s lumpy, but more comfortable than what you had.”
Her golden eyes watched him warily. Christ she was pretty. Here he was blabbering like an idiot. He cracked open the water bottle and passed it to her.
She accepted greedily, bringing the bottle to her dry, colorless lips. Her hands shook so much that water spilled from the top. He caught the plastic and held it fast while cradling the back of her neck to steady her.
She didn’t flinch. Instead, she seemed to sink into his hold. When she’d drunk half the bottle she gasped, wiping her mouth with her bare arm.
He grimaced at how thin she was. How pale.
“Good girl,” he said easily. Too fucking easily. “Are you hungry?”
She roamed her gaze warily over him. “Why are you doing this?” Her raspy, untrusting tone struck him in the feels.
He frowned and reached into his bag, where he kept an arsenal of snacks. “Doing what?” He laid out jerky, trail mix, and several kinds of protein bars on the mattress beside her.
“H-Helping me.” She scanned the room, fresh uncertainty in her expression. “Where am I?”
“Sagreja. About eighty miles from Rex’s compound.”
She inhaled through her nose, her body rigid. “I thought we were going to Panama City.”
“We will be. Soon as we can.” Hell, he didn’t want to be tight-lipped, but he couldn’t compromise their mission.
“Are they dead?”
He folded his arms over his chest. Was that hope in her voice? Or concern? “Every guard who was on the property is, yes. Rex escaped and I’m assuming he’s not alone.”
She nodded, her eyes downcast. She snagged a protein bar then glanced at him with caution.
“Go ahead.”
She pulled at the wrapper, her hands trembling. He took it from her, ripped open the packaging, and handing it back.
“Thank you.” She took a bite and eyed him over the bar.
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He needed information, but she needed rest and replenishment. And to get cleaned up. “Look, I don’t have much with me, but I have a new toothbrush in my bag, and you can have whatever clothes of mine might fit.”
She glanced down at her rumpled shirt and bare legs. Then she flushed and shifted uncomfortably, stretching the hem of the tee to cover more of her thighs.
His chest tightened. Jesus Christ, had they sexually assaulted her? He couldn’t fucking ask, but he also needed to know what he was dealing with.
All the guys with Phantom Ops had medical training. He could stitch, patch, administer IVs, and do whatever else necessary to stabilize someone . . . but sexual assault? His training didn’t touch that shit.
However, there was one thing he could make clear, to help take the flighty look out of her wounded eyes. “I’m not going to hurt you, Molly. You have my word—for whatever that’s worth. I’m guessing not much right now, but I won’t touch you unless you absolutely need me to.”
Those watchful, haunting eyes blinked. She lowered the half-eaten protein bar from her mouth and folded the foil over what was left. He wanted her to eat more. Hell, he wanted to hold a fucking glass to her lips all night.
“Thank you,” she said, with a faint smile. “That helps. Honest.”
“You should have more electrolytes, and if it’s okay with you, I’d like to check out your veins and see if you can hold an IV.”
She recoiled. “I don’t like needles.”
“It’s your call, but we’re pretty far from a hospital. Plus, you’ll feel a lot stronger after a bag of saline.”
“Okay,” she dragged out the word, her American accent hinting that she was a long way from home. Just like him. “I’d like to clean up first and use the bathroom.”
He got to his feet, grabbed his duffel from against the wall near the bed, and retrieved the promised toothbrush and clothing. He had only one pair of sweats, and they sure as shit wouldn’t fit her tiny waist, but at least she’d be covered. He shook out a long-sleeved black tee to go with it.
Tucking the items against his side, he moved to the bed and then held out his arm for her.
She gripped his elbow, and he helped her shift to the edge of the mattress.
“Take your time. You might get dizzy.”
“I’ve been dizzy all day,” she said dryly, as she lowered her feet to the tile.
Sure enough, as he helped her stand, her body started to lean to the left. He caught her around the waist and held her to his side. He passed her the items. “You take these, I’ll take you.”
Before she could protest, he lifted her against his chest.
She clung to the clothes and closed her eyes. “Oh, god,” she muttered.
He froze. “Are you going to be sick?”
“Mmm-hmm.” Her mouth was a flat line, and her eyes were sewn shut.
Fuck. He shuffled quickly to the bathroom, trying not to jostle her but also not wanting either of them to wear vomit. He kicked open the door, lowered her to her feet, and took the items from her hands. Then he belted his arm around her hip and moved toward the toilet.
He dropped the clothes on the counter before swooping her hair into his palm. “Go on. I’ve got you.” He held her back to his front with his free arm.
She didn’t try to drop to the ground. Instead, she took very long, slow breaths, her fingernails clinging to his forearm.
“That’s it. Keep breathing. We’re in no rush here.”
She seemed to relax more, her fingers loosening their grip on his skin.
“Can you say something else?” The request came out on a loose whisper.
“Uh—” Well, shit. What could he say? “You’re safe now. You just need to rest and you’ll be good as new.”
He splayed his fingers over her ribcage. She was so tiny. Likely no more than five foot two. If he loosened his grip, she might crumple to the ground like a wet rag. Goddamn he didn’t like how frail she was.
“Do you want to change and go back to the bed?”
She shook her head. “No. I—I need to clean up.”
He looked at the small, dingy bathtub. She could barely walk. He wasn’t willing to risk her falling in the shower. Even getting in and out of the bathtub would be dangerous.
But he didn’t blame her for wanting to clean up. Dirt caked her skin and was crusted beneath her fingernails. The strands of her hair were gritty. A bath would surely help her on her road to recovery.
“I’ll run your water. Sit.” He turned her around, lowered the toilet seat lid, then eased her into a sitting position.
He cranked the taps and ran his fingers beneath the uneven spray. Rust stained the porcelain, but the tub was in decent shape otherwise.
One glance at Molly showed her wavering. Purple shadows underscored her hollow eyes, but a little color had returned to her face. Not much, but she didn’t look as ashy as she had in the helicopter.
His stomach twisted. He wanted to put his fist through a wall—and through Rex’s face. No woman deserved to be treated like this. If they hadn’t located Rex’s compound when they had, she might have died.
He stood and offered her his hands. She slipped her fingers into his palms. He helped her to her feet, then moved his hands to her waist. “Do you feel steady enough to get in?”
She nodded. “Nothing short of a gun will keep me out of there.”
He chuckled. “All right. Just holler if you need help.”
She placed her hands on the wall and shuffled toward the tub. “I’ve got it. Thanks.”
Christ. Now he had to leave her. He glanced at the door, then back at the tub. If she fell, he’d be responsible. But he couldn’t exactly force her to let him stay. That’d be awkward.
He moved across the tight space, then stepped out of the room, closing the door softly. He waited just outside the bathroom until he heard the water shut off. She had to be in by now.
He rubbed his hand over his face. Hell, what a night. He looked at the clock on the nightstand. It was almost 2:00 a.m. He removed all his gear and placed it on the chair he’d been sitting on. Then he took out everything he’d need for the IV and set it up near the bed.
The only bed in the room.