by Kaylea Cross
“Right? Stick with me, lady. I know all the good food joints around here.”
Hunter shot him a bland look and started in on his own lunch but didn’t say anything. Khalia stuffed her face all the way across town and was just closing the container when Gage suddenly turned up the radio. Since the broadcast was in Urdu she couldn’t understand what the announcer was saying, but Gage quickly shoulder checked and changed lanes, moving them across to the far right side of the highway.
“Something wrong?” she asked.
“Just have to re-route, is all. Accident up ahead is clogging everything up. I’m going to try a couple tricks to get around it.” His tone and demeanor were calm, as though he’d anticipated the possibility long before they began the drive. And he probably had. He certainly knew his way around the city.
“We’ll get you there on time, don’t worry,” Hunter added, crumpling up the paper napkin he’d just wiped his mouth with and tucking it into the takeout container.
When they’d tried three different routes without success and came to yet another standstill on the last one, Hunter unbuckled his seatbelt and swiveled to face her. He looked down at her feet. “Can you walk a while in those heels?”
“Sure.” She set her container on the seat beside her and undid her own seatbelt, assailed by nervousness. In light of the possible threat against her, walking around out there in broad daylight even with a bodyguard didn’t thrill her. Especially in shoes that would leave blisters after a few blocks.
“Let us off at the next intersection,” Hunter directed Gage.
Gage pulled over and half straddled the sidewalk as he bypassed traffic amid the annoyed horns blaring at them. At the traffic light he stopped. “Where do you want me to pick you up?”
Hunter already had his door open. “I’ll let you know when we’re done.” He opened her door and helped her down from the truck, his grip gentle on her arm despite his obvious strength. More tingles raced over her skin and she mentally scolded herself for her body’s reaction.
“It’s only a few blocks from here,” he said to her. “You good with that?” Though his eyes were shielded by his dark sunglasses, she knew he was studying her reaction. The man didn’t miss anything, she’d seen that much already.
“Yes.” She wasn’t going to complain over a few blisters, if that’s what he was worried about. Outside the air conditioned vehicle the heat was like a slap. The sun was almost directly overhead and it radiated off the baking pavement like an oven. It didn’t matter that it was a dry heat, she felt as though someone had aimed a blow dryer at her face and turned it on full blast.
She followed closely in Hunter’s wake across the street through the snarled lanes of traffic, stretching out her strides to keep up with him. He kept careful tabs on her, checking on her position every few seconds.
On the far side of the four lane road they hit the sidewalk and headed east toward the government buildings a few blocks away. Here it was less crowded, the pedestrians moving in opposite directions on the thin strip of pavement without any problem. She noticed Hunter’s head moving constantly and knew he was cataloguing everything going on around them. Hired security or not, he was out here guarding her back. She found that sexy as hell.
By the time they were a block away from their destination, sweat had gathered beneath her arms and breasts and across her face. She couldn’t wait to get inside the building and cool off, maybe duck into the ladies room to take off her thin sweater and scarf. They passed groups of business people talking on cell phones and throngs of others who’d abandoned their stranded buses and taxis in favor of walking. She stayed directly behind Hunter, who acted like a human icebreaker, his wide shoulders opening up a path through the sea of bodies.
Someone jostled her from behind. She bounced off a man in a business suit on her right and reached out blindly for Hunter to catch her balance, snagging the back of his shirt. Her fingers hit something hard beneath it and she realized he had a weapon hidden in the back of his waistband. Without a hitch in his stride he reached behind him and took her hand. His grip was strong but gentle, bolstering her courage and calming her at the same time. Whatever happened, she knew he would be there to take care of her if she needed him.
“Almost there,” he said over his shoulder, pulling her along in his wake.
The sudden loud blare of horns made them both snap their heads to their right.
A white delivery-style truck was barreling up the first available unclogged street, right toward the tall buildings on the opposite side of the intersection a half block away. Hunter stopped walking so fast that Khalia bumped into his back. Before she could retreat a step she felt the unnatural stillness in him, a silent tension that made her jerk her head around to stare at the truck.
It was moving too fast and showed no sign of slowing down. Everyone else was staring now too. The street dead ended at the tall rows of buildings lining it, and there was no way the truck could turn the corner given its speed. Horns were still blaring as the vehicle whizzed past other traffic at breakneck speed. She watched in astonishment as it blew through the stop light and hurtled straight toward the building across the dead end intersection.
Hunter whirled and grabbed her shoulders, pushing her toward the ground. “Get down!” he yelled.
What? Too stunned to protest, Khalia sprawled flat on the pavement. The breath whooshed out of her as Hunter’s hard weight landed on her back, squashing her against the burning hot sidewalk. Someone near her screamed. A split second later she heard the loud bang of an impact, then the still air was ripped apart by a violent explosion. The force of it tore over her like a raging wind, whipped through her body like a shockwave. Her eardrums and lungs felt like they’d exploded from the pressure. For a split second the sidewalk rolled and bucked beneath them as if they were on a boat.
It took a moment for the truth to sink in. A bomb.
Her heart hammered against her ribs. Hunter was still on top of her, his arms crossed over her head and face to shield her. She didn’t dare move. People were screaming, running past them, even over them. Hunter grunted when someone stepped on him, but he didn’t budge from his position atop her. She could hear the sound of glass shattering close by, hitting the ground somewhere behind them with a sharp crash. The smell of smoke and burning wreckage was already thick in the air, as well as an audible roar that pulsed against her throbbing eardrums.
When the mass of panicking people around them began to thin out, Hunter’s weight finally lifted from her. She sucked in a shaky breath, her compressed lungs aching with the effort, and dared to lift her head. Only to witness a scene straight out of hell.
The truck had plowed straight into the front of the building, leaving a gaping hole where flames now poured out, belching huge clouds of toxic smoke. All the windows in the lower floors were blown out, in addition to those in the buildings on either side and across the street. People were running everywhere, shouting, their faces awash with panic. In the openings of the shattered windows she could see people sticking their heads out of the fiery building to look around. Some were waving articles of clothing out of the openings with frantic motions. They were trapped, she realized. Trapped in that crippled, burning building. Fear and helplessness gripped her.
A hard hand cupped her jaw, turned her head. She blinked up into Hunter’s concerned face. He was saying something to her, frowning.
“I’m okay,” she managed shakily, and got to her hands and knees. He grabbed her beneath the arms and hauled her upright as though she weighed nothing. When she was on her feet he kept hold of one upper arm and she was thankful because her legs wobbled. All around them people crowded into groups, gawking at the awful spectacle before them. As she watched, the first victims start to pour out of the ruined building, covered with blood and soot.
Two men emerged carrying another and laid him down on the sidewalk away from the falling glass and debris. It took a moment for Khalia to realize the man was missing his right arm at the shoulder. She
stared in horror at the lump of glistening bloody flesh sticking out of the sleeve, the blood pulsing out of him while someone tore off their shirt and frantically wrapped it around the severed limb. The wounded man’s mouth was wide open, his eyes squeezed shut in an expression of unimaginable agony.
Khalia’s stomach lurched and she tore her gaze away.
The wail of distant sirens rose over the cries of the wounded and the roar and crackle of flame. She felt a tug on her arm and looked up into Hunter’s grim face.
“Let’s go,” he ordered in a voice made even scarier by his fierce expression.
She wanted to. More than anything she wanted to turn and run as fast as her rubbery legs would carry her. “The wounded,” she began, feeling the first tremors of shock ripple through her muscles. It was almost a hundred degrees outside, yet she felt like she was freezing. “We have to help.” They had to do something. People were trapped inside. Hunter had training, and they were close enough to the victims to maybe get some of them out.
Rather than answer, he began dragging her in the opposite direction. She stumbled, realized she’d lost a shoe and glanced back. It was nowhere to be seen, swallowed up by the mob still gathered on the sidewalk, holding their hands to their faces in horror and disbelief, some crying and wailing. The sounds made her skin crawl in primal reaction. Fire trucks and police vehicles were beginning to show up on scene, sirens and lights going. “Wait,” she insisted, yanking against his hold. His fingers were like iron bands around her upper arm.
“We’ve gotta get the hell out of here,” he shot back, walking faster. Khalia kicked off her other shoe to save herself a broken ankle as she struggled to keep up. “Suicide bombers like to wait until the first responders show up to the initial blast and then—”
More screams. Hunter jerked his head around and she followed his gaze just in time to see a second white delivery truck racing toward the stricken building. A scream built in her throat, but never escaped.
Hunter swore and tackled her again, this time bringing her down to the sidewalk with a bone-jarring thud. She cried out as he landed on top of her, slamming her ribs and hip bones into the unforgiving concrete. His arms came up over her head to shield her, the force of them scraping her cheek and temple against the rough surface. Before she could draw breath another explosion tore through the air, even stronger than the first one. Her teeth clacked together when the shockwave rolled through the ground.
More screams. Closer this time. Terrified and blood curdling. Heavy things slammed into the ground nearby. The heat of the blast washed over her, stinging her skin. Hunks of burning metal whipped past them, gouging out chunks of pavement and concrete where they landed. Khalia was too afraid to move. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.
Seconds later Hunter got up and lifted her once again. Her heart was slamming out of control. She grabbed hold of his shoulders for support and cowered against him, darting glances around to see what was happening. She saw people stumbling around with burns and bleeding wounds. The carnage was horrific. Her whole body started shaking.
He grabbed hold of her hand, clamped his long fingers around hers and yanked forward, away from the scene. She fell, scraping both knees and her free palm. He scooped her up again, tossed her over one broad shoulder, and ran. Khalia clung to the back of his shirt for balance. Every running step sent her midsection slamming down on his shoulder. All she could do was tense her stomach muscles and hold on. She kept her eyes closed and fought the urge to cover both ears with her hands because she needed to keep her grip on Hunter or she’d fall.
Through the weird numbness creeping over her she could still hear those terrible screams rising up and shuddered. Hunter was talking to someone over the walkie talkie, shouting instructions she didn’t catch. Her hands dug into his shirt, fingers frozen there like talons. Were more bombers still coming? Did they have other targets in mind across the city? Any courage she’d thought she had was gone. She should never have come here. What the hell had she been thinking?
After an unknown amount of time Hunter stopped and slid her off his shoulder to her feet, steadying her with a firm grip on her waist when she swayed. She blinked up at him, trembling all over. They were now blocks away from the bombing site, on a road with hardly any traffic.
He leaned his face close to hers. “You’re okay. Gage is right there,” he panted, skin streaked with sweat and grime, not a hint of fear anywhere in his expression. She followed his pointing finger down the road to see the two black SUVs roaring up. “Come on.”
When he grabbed her hand and pulled again, she followed, her legs wooden but at least functioning. Together they ran to the waiting vehicles. Gage jumped out and popped open the back door before climbing back behind the wheel. Hunter shoved her headlong into the backseat and climbed in behind her, slamming the door shut behind them.
The instant it closed he was on top of her again, flattening her facedown against the leather seat. She squeezed her eyes shut.
“Hold on,” Gage said as he reversed and shot the vehicle backward at an alarming speed, the engine revving high and loud. Above her, Hunter took her hands, setting one against the doorframe and the other against the back of the front seat.
“Brace yourself,” he commanded.
For what? she wanted to yell but couldn’t get the words out and did as he said. A second later Gage cranked the wheel hard to the right. The truck spun in a sickening half circle, sending Khalia sliding along the slippery leather toward the door.
She cried out and pushed back with her straightened right arm, but Hunter was there. He caught her, bolstering her with his weight and strength as he struggled to hold them in place against the wild swing of the vehicle. The squeal of tires registered for a moment, then she heard Gage shift the transmission and they were driving forward once again, racing away from the scene.
A tense minute passed before Hunter finally let her up. She slowly peeled herself off the seat and pushed into a sitting position with shaky arms. Her scraped cheek and palms stung and she’d be covered in bruises by morning, but at least she was still alive and in one piece.
She still couldn’t comprehend what had just happened.
A hard arm reached around her waist to drag the seatbelt across her body and snap it into the buckle. Immediately she wrapped her arms around herself in an attempt to stem the violent shivers wracking her and risked a glance over at Hunter. His gaze was intense, the look in his eyes frightening, but that didn’t scare her as much as what she heard him mutter under his breath when he looked away from her to stare out the window.
“Welcome to Pakistan.”
Chapter Five
Khalia somehow managed to put one sore bare foot in front of the other despite the rigidity in her muscles as Hunter steered her into her hotel room. The lock clicked into place behind them, sounding overly loud to her heightened senses. Her heart rate still hadn’t normalized. She took slow, deep breaths to calm herself. It wasn’t working.
“Let’s take a look at you,” he said, ushering her into the bathroom with a solid hand on the small of her back. The warmth of his touch registered more than his voice did. She winced when he flipped a switch and bright white lights flooded the room. With a nudge forward he settled her on the closed toiled lid and grabbed a facecloth from the rack above it. He ran the tap and moistened it before turning back to her. “Here. Clean up your cheek while I check your feet.”
Feeling stiff all over, Khalia turned her head to look at herself in the wide rectangular mirror above the vanity. Her eyes looked huge in her too pale face and the side of her right cheek was scraped up to the temple. It was raw and oozing from being mashed against the sidewalk. And it could easily have been so much worse.
Lowering her gaze, she pressed the cool cloth to her cheek, ignoring the sudden sting. Hunter was crouched at her feet, one bronzed hand reaching for her left ankle. She put out an arm to stop him, recoiling from the intimacy. She was a heartbeat away from bursting into tears
. Having him touch her right now, even if only to check for injuries, would be too much. “They’re fine.”
He raised his eyes to hers, that steady gaze sending a jolt of heated interest through her overloaded system. “They’re bleeding. I want to make sure there aren’t any bits of shrapnel in them.”
She repressed a shudder and pulled her foot back. “I can do it.”
He brushed her hand away with an impatient motion and grasped her ankle in a warm grip. “Just sit still and let me look.”
Pushing out a sigh, Khalia allowed him to cradle her foot in his hands, unsettled at the way his touch sent streaks of sensation up her legs. How could he be so calm and steady when it felt like she was going to shake apart? It was easier to keep a leash on her emotions when there wasn’t any physical contact between them.
The way he touched her, so gently despite his rough exterior, made her ache to lean forward and wrap her arms around that sturdy neck. She longed to feel his strong arms around her in return, locking out the rest of the world. She wanted that so badly she almost gave into the urge to reach for him.
He killed the impulse by stretching an arm out above her for another facecloth, wetting it also before turning his attention back to her right foot. “It’s scraped up some.” After wiping the sensitive bottom of her foot he took the left one in his large hand, holding it up so he could see the sole in the light. “There’s a splinter of something,” he murmured, and a moment later pulled something sharp out of her foot.
Her toes pointed in reflex and she sucked in a breath. A tiny shard of metal glinted between his fingers as he held it up for her to see. Then he turned her left hand over and set it in her scraped palm before going back to search for others.
She stared at the fragment with detached revulsion, wondering where it had come from. The building? One of the exploding trucks? A first responder’s vehicle? Feeling sick again, she dumped it on the counter with a tiny rattling sound.
