by Julie Cannon
Aaron called her on it one evening when he surprised her by picking her up at her office and taking them both to their parents’ house for dinner. The evening was cool, and her mother served dinner on the patio overlooking the eighteenth green of the golf course behind their house. She and Aaron were alone on the patio.
“I’m worried about you, Barrett.”
“Don’t be. There’s nothing to worry about. I’m fine.” She recited all of her well-practiced answers.
“Bullshit.”
Barrett turned and looked at her baby brother, raising her eyebrows. She couldn’t remember a swear word ever coming out of his mouth.
“You heard me right. That should give you some idea how worried I am.” He held his hand up. “No, don’t give me the I’m-fine speech, because I know you’re not. Mom and Dad may be buying it, and the people at your office, but I am not.
“At the risk of completely pissing you off, you need to see somebody. You look like shit. The circles under your eyes aren’t due to overwork, you bark at everybody, and if I know you, you’re fucking everyone trying to escape. You need professional help to work through this because you’re doing a shitty job of doing it on your own. I know you’re fiercely independent and refuse to let anyone help you, but this is the rest of your life we’re talking about here, not some business deal. And unlike one of your famous business deals, if you fuck this up you may never recover.”
Barrett was stunned. Not only had he cussed several times during his little speech, she saw fire in his normally calm eyes. She loved her brother, even when he overstepped his boundaries in her life.
He was right. She did look like hell, wasn’t sleeping, and when she did go to bed it was with some nameless stranger she used to try to escape. For just a few minutes she needed to forget the image of Kelly reaching for her, to hear soft moans of passion instead of Kelly’s voice calling to her. For just a few minutes.
It had worked in the beginning. She could lose herself in the moment, in the curves of a female body, the feel of a woman’s soft skin, the smell of her arousal, the taste of her. But lately, the more she tried, the more it failed, and the more her life spun out of control.
“I know what I need to do,” she said quietly. The idea had been forming in her mind for the past few days, and she was ready to take action.
“You know I’ll do anything I can to help you.” He reached over and squeezed her hand. “Just name it.”
“What’s the name of the agency you hired to get me out?”
“What?” A frown of confusion creased his broad forehead.
“The company you hired to get me out of Columbia. Who are they?”
Realization dawned on her brother’s face. “That’s not what I’m talking about, and you know it.”
“I know that I have to try to get the others out. I can’t sit here, eat great food, take a shower whenever I want, and go wherever I want whenever I want when the others are beaten, starved, and chained to a tree.” Barrett quieted her voice so her parents wouldn’t hear. “I have to do this, Aaron, and I’ll either do it with the same group of guys or I’ll find my own.”
For the first time in months Barrett felt in control of her life. She would do everything she could, spend every penny she had to get Kelly and the others out. She had to. She couldn’t be the only one to come home.
Chapter Twelve
Barrett paced. She’d awoken this morning more on edge than ever before. She sensed something was happening and had been waiting all day for the phone to ring. She looked at her watch too many times to count, each time just minutes from the last.
Eighteen days ago she’d received the call informing her that Trevor and his team had finally discovered signs of the rebels. They’d been in the jungle ninety-four days.
Trevor had not been receptive to her offer when she had spoken to him a few months ago.
“I need you to go back and get them out.”
“Ms. Taylor, the probability the rebels are anywhere near the location where we extracted you are zero. They probably moved out before their search party returned.”
“I don’t care,” Barrett said forcefully. She often used this same phrase in the course of her work, negotiating contracts, making demands on her people, but that was nothing compared to her insistence on this subject.
“Ms. Taylor, this isn’t a good idea.”
Barrett ignored her throbbing shoulder. “What’s your fee?”
“Ms. Taylor—”
“I know, Trevor. It’ll take weeks, maybe months to track them down. It’ll be expensive. I know all that and I don’t care. I want you and your team for this job, and I’ll pay whatever the cost.” For the first time in her life money didn’t matter. They had settled on a fee and she’d been waiting ever since.
She couldn’t help herself and looked at her watch again. Had they run into trouble? Please God, let them have her. She jumped as her cell phone rang.
“Taylor.”
“Package secure.”
Relief Barrett had never experienced flooded her body, making her knees weak. She stumbled to the chair and fell into it.
“Five boxes in route.”
“Thank you.” A dial tone was the reply.
She couldn’t move. Her pulse was racing and she felt light-headed. It wasn’t over yet, but Trevor and his team had Kelly and four others.
“Lori,” she shouted, and sprang from the chair with more energy than she’d had in weeks. “I need the plane and I need it now.” She’d had a private jet on standby for weeks, waiting for this call. Her bag was packed and in her trunk. She ran out the door with one thing on her mind: a silent prayer that they would all arrive safely.
*
The flight to Panama lasted a lifetime. The plane was large enough that Barrett could walk around, but not big enough to take more than eleven steps in either direction. Back and forth she paced, losing count of the number of times she turned and retraced her steps. The flight steward had long since given up on offering her anything to eat, drink, or read. Time seemed to stop, and Barrett fought the panic attacks that threatened to overwhelm her.
A thousand different thoughts raced through her head. Was Kelly injured? Had she been hurt in the rescue? What about the others? Trevor had said five hostages were in route. What about the others? Including Kelly, there had been eight when she left. She prayed she hadn’t been too late.
Her plane touched down in Panama, and Barrett was out of her seat before it stopped at the private terminal. She fought the urge to shove the flight steward out of the way and open the door herself, and she flew down the stairs onto the tarmac. A uniformed attendant was holding a door open for her, and she barely felt the change from the wet humidity outside to the cool air-conditioning inside the private waiting area.
Kelly’s plane, a medical transport, had not yet arrived, and Barrett stayed glued to the window, watching the empty landing strip reserved for private planes. Trevor was using two helicopters to fly the hostages to a small airstrip where the transport plane was waiting. It was not equipped to be an in-flight hospital, but with a doctor, two nurses, and three emergency medical technicians onboard, it was more of a mobile triage unit. The medical workers would administer any immediate care that was needed in order to stabilize the patients until they arrived at the hospital in Panama.
A plane slightly larger than the one Barrett had arrived in landed and taxied to the gate. She was so nervous she could hardly stand still. She took a few deep breaths to steady herself as the door of the plane opened and several more medical personnel boarded. She wanted to be the first one on the plane but knew her presence might delay immediate medical attention to someone who needed it. Instead she stepped outside into the blistering heat and midday sun.
Two men carried a stretcher down the stairs, and Barrett’s anxiety kicked up a notch. The attendants pressed a yellow bar at the head of the stretcher, and the legs unfolded and locked in place. Barrett stepped forward as the immobile p
atient was wheeled closer. A sigh, mixed with relief and continuing anxiety, passed her lips, but she didn’t recognize the man. He was pale but breathing, and she said a quick blessing before he was whisked away into a waiting ambulance.
One by one the other rescued hostages descended the steps. Some needed a steadying arm while others were able to negotiate the dozen steps under their own power. All of them looked to be in shock or bewildered as to what was going on and where they were. As each stepped out of the plane and into the afternoon light, Barrett held her breath until she recognized that the person wasn’t Kelly. She greeted each one before he was helped into an ambulance.
My God, what was taking so long? Why wasn’t Kelly the first one out? She couldn’t have been badly injured or she’d have been one of the first off the plane. Was she dead? Were they waiting until all the survivors were off before they removed the bodies?
Finally, when Barrett thought she couldn’t stand there a moment longer, a shadow passed behind the plane’s small door. Barrett’s knees began to buckle when she recognized Kelly stepping out onto the first step of the stairs. Their eyes met and locked, and Barrett started to breathe again. Even from this distance Barrett could see Kelly’s eyes were clear and focused on her.
Overwhelming joy and relief flooded every nerve and limb on her body. Kelly was safe. Kelly was alive. Kelly was home. Barrett stifled a gasp. Guilt, blame, and responsibility instantly replaced her euphoria.
“Oh my God, I’m too late,” Barrett whispered. Kelly was pregnant.
Chapter Thirteen
Kelly was a bit wobbly on the stairs, and before she’d taken three steps Barrett was in front of her, offering her a steadying hand. It was solid, warm, and real. Kelly still wasn’t sure this wasn’t all just a dream. They’d moved so many times after Barrett was rescued, and several times the guards had played a cruel trick and told them they were being released. But this wasn’t another mind-fuck. Barrett stood in front of her, as solid and real as Kelly remembered, and for an instant she forgot.
Gone were the pain, the sleepless nights, and the never-ending hunger. Gone was the sense of helplessness and despair she’d felt when Barrett had disappeared into the jungle. Gone was the desolate loneliness that threatened to swallow her into the black ink of the jungle night. Gone were her doubts and fears that she would never return home. In that instant, in that moment, Barrett was here.
Kelly saw the instant Barrett knew. The single, most obvious reminder that she had been a captive—at the mercy of others, dependent on them for every scrap of food, form of shelter, and every breath she took. The reminder would be with her forever. She would never be able to forget.
Just as suddenly Barrett’s strong arms were around her, and Kelly stopped thinking. Barrett was here. She was free. She was safe.
Kelly’s body gave way in complete exhaustion and relief, and Barrett swept her into her arms before she fell. Kelly instinctively wrapped her arms around Barrett’s shoulders and buried her face into her neck.
“It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
Barrett’s voice was soft and soothing and one Kelly had thought she’d never hear again. She tightened her hold, never wanting to let go.
“It’s okay,” Barrett repeated. “You’re safe. I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise. No one will ever hurt you again.”
Barrett carried her to a waiting ambulance and set her gently on the stretcher. Kelly didn’t want to let go of the woman she’d thought about endlessly since she was rescued all those months ago. She’d never thought she would touch her again or hear her deep voice in anything other than her dreams.
Barrett grasped her hands and pulled her arms from around her neck. Kelly started to panic that she would disappear again, and Barrett squeezed her hands.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she said, her voice calming Kelly’s frayed nerves. “But you have to let go of my hand so the EMTs can take a look at you before we go to the hospital.”
Kelly nodded, realizing she still hadn’t said a word since stepping off the plane and seeing Barrett.
“Thank you for coming back for us.” It surprised her that her voice was strong and gave no hint of the turmoil she was experiencing. She was out of the jungle for the first time in over two years. Her feet were on solid ground, so to speak, and pretty soon she would have a roof over her head.
“I’m sorry it took so long,” Barrett said, her face drawn.
“We’re safe. That’s all that matters.” Barrett was here now.
Barrett shook her head. “It took too long.”
The EMT closest to Kelly spoke up. “Your blood pressure, heart rate, and pulse are good. You have a little rattle in your lungs, but nothing to worry about. Now, let’s get you inside and on your way to the hospital.”
Her expression must have spoken volumes because the young man looked at her, then to Barrett, then back at Kelly again. “And Ms. Taylor is coming with us.”
Kelly relaxed and didn’t let go of Barrett’s hand during the entire ride to the hospital.
*
“Ms. Ryan, I’m Doctor Martin. I know you’ve been through a lot, and we’re going to take good care of you.”
The doctor turned and spoke to Barrett. “Ms. Taylor, good to see you looking so well.” His voice was warm. “Much better than the last time I saw you. How’s the shoulder?”
“A bit stiff now and then, but pretty good.”
Kelly’s heartbeat sped up, and the monitor blipped in response. She’d never forget the sight of Barrett falling backward from the force of the bullet hitting her.
Dr. Martin glanced at the telltale machine. “As I was saying, we’re going to take good care of you. We’ll tell you everything we’re going to do before we do it. Okay?”
Kelly nodded but didn’t make eye contact. She’d endured too many months of following strict orders not to.
“If you’re uncomfortable or frightened in the slightest, let me know and we’ll stop. We won’t do anything you don’t want us to.”
“Dr. Martin was on duty when I came in. When I heard you were on the way in, I requested he be the one to check you out.” Barrett’s comment explained everything.
“Jackie here,” he indicated a nurse in purple scrubs standing beside him, “will get you out of those clothes. Do you think you can help, or should she just cut them off?”
It took a moment for Kelly to realize she’d been asked a question. For months she’d simply been told what to do.
“I can do it,” Kelly said, remembering all the other times she’d stripped in front of complete strangers. But suddenly she was very shy in front of Barrett, which made absolutely no sense. Barrett had seen her naked dozens of times, but this was different. Kelly glanced at Barrett, grateful when she turned around, offering her privacy.
Kelly was poked, prodded, x-rayed, and had eight vials of blood drawn before Dr. Martin quietly asked, his back to Barrett, “How far along are you?”
Kelly appreciated his diplomacy and tact and answered just as quietly. “About four months, but I’m not sure.”
“I’ve called for a female obstetrician,” he said, his voice gentle and understanding. “Dr. Foster will be able to help you in whatever way you need. In the meantime, Jackie will get you cleaned up a little. I’m sure you’d like a shower, but that’ll have to wait till you get upstairs to your room.”
She tried not to flinch as Jackie expertly cleaned off the top layer of grime and dirt while Barrett waited outside. She kept telling herself this wasn’t a dream, that she was safe. She desperately wanted to brush her teeth but knew that too would have to wait.
Kelly was finally clothed in a clean hospital gown, and Nurse Jackie slid open the door, allowing Barrett back in. Kelly smiled. “I probably smell just a little better, but I know I feel much better.”
Barrett didn’t move closer to the bed. “I know exactly what you mean. All I wanted to do was brush my teeth.”
Barrett finally smiled, and Kelly’s
pulse raced and her stomach did a little flip-flop. She didn’t have a chance to say anything before a woman in her forties with long jet-black hair stepped into the room. Kelly immediately reached for Barrett’s hand, dropping her eyes and stiffening out of habit.
“Miss Ryan, I’m Doctor Marilyn Foster. How are you feeling?”
Barrett squeezed her hand. “A little overwhelmed,” Kelly admitted, glancing back and forth from the doctor to her lap.
“I can’t even imagine,” she said, without pity in her voice.
The doctor stepped closer, and the blips on the heart monitor jumped and stayed high. Barrett squeezed her hand again.
“It’s okay,” Barrett said quietly.
She clutched Barrett’s hand and tried to calm down.
“Do you want to talk privately?” Dr. Foster asked so only Kelly could hear.
“Miss Ryan?”
Kelly tried not to flinch at her name, expecting the blow.
A familiar voice eased her fear. “It’s okay, Kelly. You’re safe here.”
Tentatively she raised her head, still not certain this was all real. Jesus, when would she stop questioning that she was safe? Barrett’s face confirmed that she was. She nodded. Barrett made her feel secure. She’d hung on to her both literally and figuratively since stepping off the plane. But this was different. She knew she had nothing to be ashamed about but didn’t want Barrett to be a part of this, to see her like this. At least not right now. She nodded.
“Ms. Taylor, would you please excuse us for a few minutes?”
Barrett looked at her expectantly, and Kelly nodded again. “I’ll be okay.”
Barrett seemed to be weighing her choices before agreeing to leave. “I’ll call your parents and tell them you’re safe and will talk to them as soon as you can.”
For an instant Kelly was afraid Barrett would tell her parents she was pregnant but then realized Barrett knew that was for her to do.
