by Kaylea Cross
“Come on,” Hunter growled, yanking on her hand.
Her legs were uncooperative. She stumbled along in his wake, casting a terrified glance over her shoulder toward the explosion. An eerie yellow and orange glow lit the sky behind them, plumes of smoke boiling up into the dark sky. She could hear people around them screaming, shouting, the too familiar sounds of confusion and terror closing around her.
“Run,” Hunter snapped.
The sharp command cracked like a whip through the haze engulfing her. She put her head down and ran, focused only on keeping up with Hunter. At the end of the third block he paused to glance back. With a curse he steered her around the corner, propelling her forward with a hard hand between her shoulder blades as he got on the radio to Gage. “SWAT team went in and triggered a bomb. Either a hidden tripwire or someone remote detonated it.”
Khalia shuddered and kept going, driven by the desperate urge to escape and that implacable hand at her back.
“Someone’s tailing us,” Hunter added.
What? She almost spun around to look but Hunter pushed her around the next corner in a sharp left turn and kept talking to Gage.
“We’ll keep moving east but you may have to lead us out… Roger that.”
“Someone’s after us?” she demanded, terror stealing more strength from her legs.
“We’re okay. Just keep running.”
He didn’t need to tell her she was slowing them down. She knew. He could’ve left her in his wake but instead he was sticking with her. Pushing herself harder, she dug down for an additional burst of speed and raced down the nearly empty streets. Behind her she could hear the distant wail of sirens. Someone was after them but all she could think about was that if they’d actually gone to the address like the hostage takers had insisted, they’d both be dead right now.
Don’t think about it—run.
Hunter maneuvered them in a zigzag pattern, whipping them right then left, then back again until it all became a blur. She made it another nine blocks before the initial burst of panic faded and sucked the strength out of her muscles. As though he sensed it, Hunter brought her up short and dragged her back against him, retreating into the deep shadows between two closed shops and flattening himself against the rough bricks.
She stood with her back pressed tight against his chest, gasping for breath, sweating and trembling. He brought one hand up to cover her mouth and she grabbed at it until she realized he wasn’t trying to cut off her air, but conceal the sound of her panting. Braced against him, she was too scared to close her eyes, instead staring dead ahead at the street in the gap between the buildings.
Hunter kept his hand over her mouth and brought the other one to his side. She glanced down in time to see him holding a pistol at waist level. His arm was like warm steel across her belly. She barely registered the feel of it there before he spun her behind him to shield her with his body in case the threat materialized. She jerked her gaze back to the alley, helpless to do anything but wait. It seemed to take forever. Several people passed by a few moments later, including a younger man dressed in jeans and a dark hoodie. Was he their tail? Hunter didn’t move, gave no indication if the threat was past or not.
Tense seconds ticked by after the man in the hoodie disappeared from view. Khalia could feel Hunter’s heart beating against her back, his muscular frame coiled and ready to spring. After a full minute he lowered the hand holding the weapon and tucked it back wherever he’d drawn it from. Risking a look at him, she tipped her head back to search his face. Hunter slowly removed his hand from her mouth and she took her first full breath since ducking in here.
He bent his head until his mouth brushed her ear, his voice barely carrying. “There are probably others. We’re gonna move quick and quiet until we meet up with Gage and the rest of the boys. All right?”
She managed a nod, feeling slightly nauseated.
Her silenced phone began to vibrate in her pocket.
Hunter’s head snapped downward, telling her he’d heard the quiet buzz. She hesitated.
“Check it.”
Almost afraid to, Khalia pulled it out and looked at the screen. Incoming call from an unknown number.
“Pick up.”
Everything in her told her not to. Her hand shook slightly as she answered, keeping her voice as quiet as possible. “Hello?”
“You were warned not to contact the police!”
Her skin turned cold and clammy, a hard knot lodging in her throat at that angry male voice. “I didn’t—”
“This is on your conscience.”
With that chilling declaration the man on the other end stopped talking. Khalia shot a helpless look over her shoulder at Hunter when the screams started. She didn’t speak Pashto or Urdu, but even she understood the plea for mercy in the other man’s voice through the phone. His chilling screams were cut short with an angry growl, and then a wet gurgling sound filled the line, replacing everything with absolute silence.
“Now his blood is on your hands,” the captor snarled.
Khalia dropped the phone and covered her mouth with her hands, backing away from it like it was a coiled rattlesnake. She shrank back against Hunter and squeezed her eyes shut, horror and denial blotting out everything else. No. No, she couldn’t take this. Couldn’t be responsible for Aisha’s father’s death.
Cursing, Hunter pushed her to the side and slammed the heel of his combat boot down on her phone, shattering it.
In the echoing silence that followed, Khalia couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t see through the blinding haze of tears spilling down her cheeks.
“Move.” He pulled on her arm but she resisted, feeling frozen inside, still staring at the phone, her mind wanting to refute what she’d just heard. They’d just killed Aisha’s father—slit his throat, she was pretty certain—because of her.
Hunter swore again and got in front of her, took her face in his hands and tilted her head back until she was forced to look into his eyes. “We have to keep running. They just traced your fucking cell phone, Khalia. They’re hunting us right now. Our only chance is to get out of here and get to the trucks before they find us.”
The words barely penetrated the paralyzing numbness. How could they get out? They’d managed to trace her cell. Maybe the police were involved. Maybe the entire police force was in on this and one of them would shoot them at the next checkpoint they approached.
She realized with a start that they were moving again, though she hadn’t been conscious of doing so. They rushed past a confusing flurry of colors and sounds. She was vaguely aware of her legs moving, of her heart throbbing, her shallow breaths echoing in her head. Shaking herself, she swiped at the tears covering her cheeks and picked up her pace, driven by survival instinct alone. With every step she was aware that they were the prey, that the predators were in the shadows, closing in on them. A strangled sob caught in her throat, the edge of hysteria nipping at her.
“We’re okay,” Hunter said calmly, guiding her through the confusing tangle of streets. “Gage has us on GPS, he’s guiding us out. Just a few more minutes.”
She held onto that hope and broke into a jerky lope, struggling to keep up with his longer strides. They weren’t running; she couldn’t have anyway, and running would draw more attention. The streets in this part of town were full of people streaming out of their homes, trying to figure out what the explosion had been.
Khalia stumbled on a cobblestone and went down, knees hitting the cobbled street, her free hand scraping along the stones. Hunter hauled her to her feet. “Come on, sweetheart. Almost there.”
The endearment and gentle tone he used threatened to close her throat up. She choked on another sob and kept going, all her senses sharpened.
“Where are you?” Hunter asked Gage in a clipped voice. She didn’t hear Gage’s response but Hunter’s next words sent yet another wave of terror breaking over her. “Be ready with cover, just in case. We’ve got more company.”
Jesus! No mor
e. She wanted out of here, out of Pakistan entirely. She wanted to go home and be safe, back where things made sense. In spite of her quivering thigh muscles she forced her uncooperative body into a jog.
“Good girl,” Hunter praised. “Almost there.”
He lied. Covering the remaining distance seemed to take forever. By the time they finally reached the checkpoint she was past caring about anything but getting to the SUVs. She could see them parked just beyond the barricade, the rear door of the first one swinging open. The armed guards seemed to part when they saw them coming. Khalia’s field of vision narrowed to that open door as she put on a final burst of speed. Hunter pushed her in front of him and whirled and she didn’t look back.
No one tried to stop her, which was good because she would have attacked them with everything she had. She cleared the barricade and raced for the truck, catching sight of Gage’s face in the driver’s window. He was watching her, tracking her progress. Hard footfalls behind her told her Hunter was there. She ran for that open door and dove into it. Her palms and knees met leather. Strong hands grabbed her hips and shoved her forward across the seat. The door slammed shut, the tires squealed as Gage hit the gas. The weight of Hunter’s arm across her back was both protective and reassuring.
Out. They were out. Safe.
And Aisha’s father was still dead.
Her system finally hit overload. Cheek pressed tight against the leather seat, Khalia curled into a ball and dissolved into sobs.
Chapter Fourteen
Motherfucking hell.
Hunter kept a hand braced on Khalia’s back as Gage took a sharp right and floored it. He anchored her to stop her from sliding across the seat, felt her shuddering with the force of her sobs. Those heartbroken sounds cut straight through him, all the more unbearable because she was trying so hard to hold them back.
Ah, shit. Just…shit. With Gage in the vehicle they had no privacy but he couldn’t take watching her hurt like this. Hunter rubbed a soothing hand over her back in a gentle circle, not knowing what to say. There was nothing he could say to make this any easier on her.
At his touch she curled further into herself and turned her face away, burying it in her arms to hide from him, as though ashamed of him seeing her crying. Something sharp twisted in his chest and a burning pressure took hold of his lungs.
Wedging his hip close to hers, he slid his hands beneath her shoulders and pulled her upward. She resisted, flinging one arm out and attempting to scuttle away from him.
“No, c’mere,” he said softly, ignoring her wordless struggle. Those little hitching gasps were killing him.
He drew her up and dragged her straight into his lap, her legs resting along the seat. Khalia immediately brought her knees up and curled into him, sliding her arms around his back to grip fistfuls of his shirt, her face jammed into his shoulder. Biting back a curse, he wrapped one arm around her ribs and buried his other hand in her hair to hold her close. He might not be able to make it go away, but he could at least hold her and let her know she wasn’t alone. Pressing his cheek against her hair he sighed deeply, having no clue what else he could do for her except get her on the first flight out in the morning.
Up front he heard Gage talking to someone on the phone, probably Tom. “We’re on our way back.” A pause. “Hunt, any injuries?”
“Negative.” At least, not physical ones. The kind they could actually do something about.
“They’re good,” Gage said. Then, with a bite to his tone, “No, Hunt’s busy right now. He’ll have to call you back.”
Hunter appreciated Gage’s discernment. Tom was likely climbing the walls right now, wanting Intel and answers, but Hunter didn’t give a fuck. Khalia had reached her limit and his only priority at the moment was taking care of her. Let the police and ISI work on this case for a while. They were the ones who’d fucked everything up anyway.
Khalia took a shuddering breath and held on, still cuddled into him like a terrified kitten. It hurt him to see her so scared and broken. A few days ago he would have put some space between them. He’d have put her in her own seat and buckled her in it, then left her to cry it out alone.
There was no way he could do any of that now. He held her tighter instead.
Maybe it made him a selfish bastard, but he didn’t want to let her go. Couldn’t. Not while she so clearly needed him. He was still jacked up from the adrenaline rush and holding a soft, trusting woman while coming down from that high was a hell of a lot better than anything else he’d ever tried. Because it was Khalia in his arms only made it a thousand times better. Though he was the one holding her, the truth was she eased him as much as he eased her.
The interior of the vehicle was silent except for the hum of the engine and the little gasping sighs Khalia made as her tears faded. He didn’t let go of her or ease the pressure of his hold, savoring this chance to have her wrapped up in his arms. She felt so soft and fragile and she smelled good despite the sweat drying on her skin. She wasn’t for him, Hunter understood that because they lived in different worlds, but being able to hold her like this when she was down and defenseless made him ache for something more. For him, actions spoke way louder than words. He’d seen firsthand how caring and dedicated she was. Tonight she’d showed him the steely core inside her in the willingness to come to Peshawar, then the ability to come through under pressure. She’d earned his undying admiration in the process.
Hunter pressed his face into her hair, breathed in the scent of her shampoo. I’m right here, baby. I’ve got you.
This trip was going to change her forever no matter how much therapy she had, and he hated knowing that. Most of all he hated the thought of losing her forever once she boarded that plane a few hours from now.
Khalia seemed to droop against him. Eventually her choppy breaths evened out, growing slow and deep, and her body turned lax against him as exhaustion took its toll. Hunter eased her into a more comfortable position and leaned his head back against the head rest, expelling a long breath.
“She out?” Gage asked quietly a moment later.
“Yeah.” And for that he was grateful. She needed the rest and he needed the reprieve to figure out what the hell to do about her.
He’d never been good with emotional stuff, and that was doubly true for when it involved a woman. He just didn’t speak the language. It was easier for him to just lock it all in a box and walk away rather than wade through all that shit. Being in touch with his softer side was Gage’s gift, not his, and right now Hunter was envious of that ability. Somehow Gage knew how to put people at ease and understood how to comfort a woman. Ironic how those same qualities hadn’t done him much good in his personal life, wasn’t it?
Hunter closed his eyes and focused on the feel of Khalia draped against him. Gage should been the one back here with her. He’d know what to do, what to say when she woke. But then Hunter would have to rip the fucker’s throat out for getting to hold her like this.
“For a homemade bomb, that was one hell of an explosion,” Gage commented, his voice just loud enough to carry back to Hunter.
He grunted and glanced down to make sure Khalia was actually sleeping before he answered. Her lashes were wet and clumped together, silvery trails streaking her cheeks. He wanted to wipe them away but was afraid to wake her. “They called her cell phone.”
He caught Gage’s frown in the rearview mirror. “They trace it via cell tower?”
“Maybe. Or they could’ve hacked into Titanium’s database. Guy behind this is pretty damn bright, and he sent the initial e-mail through the site.”
“Or they might have help in the ISI or someone else in the government,” Gage murmured.
Yeah, or that. And of all the possible scenarios, that scared him the most. If the ISI was involved on some level, who the hell knew how far the corruption went up the government chain of command? “The caller blamed the explosion on her for reporting the address to the police, then offed the hostage with a knife while she was
listening.” He’d never forget that look on her face—utter devastation. She’d blamed herself for that death and there was nothing Hunter or anyone else could say to convince her otherwise.
Gage’s frown morphed into an incensed scowl. “You destroy the phone?”
Hunter nodded. “Victim was Aisha’s father, the girl she was protecting at the school.” Gage swore under his breath. Hunter stroked a hand over the tangle of Khalia’s hair, feeling useless. She felt so much, cared too much. He had no idea how to help her through this. “Since I’ve got my hands full, will you call Tom for me?”
“You lucky bastard. Sure.” He connected to Tom using the hands-free device and gave him the update, keeping the call off speaker phone for Khalia’s sake. “He’s still busy,” Gage said a few moments later. “He’ll have to call you back when we get to Islamabad.”
Hunter half smiled at that because it was pretty damn funny to imagine the look on his boss’s face. Tom wasn’t used to being told no, about anything, let alone by one of his own guys. “Hey, ask him to arrange an earlier flight for Khalia when he gets a minute.” He’d feel better with a last minute change, in case anyone from the cell tried to track her and had somehow found out about her original flight.
Gage repeated it to Tom and responded a moment later with, “He says he’d be happy to.”
Like hell he had. Hunter grinned anyway. “So where’re we gonna stay now?” he asked when Gage ended the call. His second-in-command knew the city better than any of them.
“Well they definitely got our plate numbers, so depending on who’s involved with all this, we could have a big problem. How do you wanna handle it?”
“Let’s switch vehicles with the boys before we hit the city limits, then split up and stop at a few different hotels before we settle on one. You guys can ditch the trucks once you drop Khalia and me off. Have to get new wheels by morning.”
