Dangerous in Transit

by Sidney Bristol

  “I don’t like it when you’re reasonable.”

  “You don’t like hearing no.”

  Jackie bit her lip.

  Jackie had grown up in a world of privilege she hated. It was that world that tore her family apart and showed her the evil side of what having too much did to people. She wasn’t proud of herself at times, now being one of them. Val was right.

  “Look, like I said, your heart is in the right place. The problem I see is, if you put your life at risk and get killed, where does that leave the rest of us? Without you paying the bills, investing money, getting donations, the rest of us can’t afford to do these trips. If you die...this work? It stops. All the charities you work with, they might not survive without you. You are a fundraising machine when you put your heart and soul into it. The way I see it, keeping you safe and getting you out of here should be a priority if the alternative of not leaving puts you—and others—at risk.”

  “I hate it when you’re reasonable.”

  “You need someone besides me to tell you no. Are you done sulking yet? Can I go to sleep?”

  “Yeah, let’s try to get some sleep.” Jackie sighed and turned from the window.

  “So you think the blond guy is hot, huh?” Val’s grin was a slash of white in the dim room.

  “I never said that.”

  “You called him an Instagram model. You always do these weird, backhanded compliments when you like a guy. Just accept it. He told you no, which is like your biggest turn on, he’s good-looking, for a white guy, and hey, he just saved your ass. I vote you get your freak on.”

  “I want to shower,” Jackie announced. And she wanted nothing to do with this conversation.

  “Good. I’m tired of smelling you.”

  “You’re a shitty friend.”

  “Love you, too.” Val grinned and blew her a kiss. “There’s some clean clothes over there. Shower’s down the hall.”

  Jackie snorted and picked up the set of clothing, complete with tags still on. Val was queen of the cat nap. Five minutes here, twenty there. That was how she kept going. Jackie couldn’t do it.

  If she couldn’t sleep or eat, maybe a shower would do her good. A little while under the water always shook some good ideas loose. Besides, she’d wiped as much of the blood off earlier as she could, but the only way to get it out of her hair was a shower.

  She turned off the lights and slipped out to the hall. The house had gone quiet all around her. The others were probably tucked in for the night as she should be.

  The only bathroom on this floor was a communal one down the hall. The light from inside shone through under the door, but there were no sounds of the toilet or shower.

  Jackie leaned up against the wall, ready to wait her turn.

  “Fuck,” a familiar male voice said.

  She frowned at the door.

  Felix.

  Great.

  Maybe she could be hungry after all.

  She pushed off the wall.

  The door opened, the light silhouetting Felix’s big body. His hair was wet and loose down past his shoulders, a bundle of clothes tucked under his arm. Water dripped down his chest, the fine, blond hairs slicked to his skin. The smell of soap tickled her nose and she swallowed, all too aware of her dry mouth. She wasn’t one to gawk at a guy much, but even she had to admit, the Viking was a spectacular specimen of male. She couldn’t fault him on the combat boots and basketball shorts fashion combination. She was also so busted.

  “Jackie, what are you still doing awake?” Felix rocked back on his heels, taking up most of the space in the hall.

  “Oh... There was blood in my hair. Val said I still smell like the toilet bucket, so... Shower.” That was the sexiest thing she’d ever said. Jackie cringed and wished she didn’t have the bathroom spotlights on her.

  “It was a distinct aroma.” He chuckled.

  “Thanks.”

  “Hey, I’d be willing to bet we don’t smell particularly fresh either.” He held his hands up.

  Jackie swallowed and tried to rein in her goofy ass grin. Val was right, damn her. Felix was the kind of guy she’d go for, despite his preferred method for making decisions.

  “Jackie? About earlier. I don’t speak for the team. I was out of line saying what I did about you. I’ll let Kyle answer your questions from here on out.”

  Shit.

  She stared up at his face, a little hard to see with indirect light, but his eyes stood out.

  One of the reasons Jackie always built a team around Val was because she knew she needed someone who could tell her no. Before Val, Jackie was used to always getting her way, even if it wasn’t for the best reasons. A good heart didn’t excuse bad decisions.

  Felix had given her his honest assessment of her, and it stung, but he was right. She led with her heart, then her head.

  “Thanks, but you don’t owe me an apology. You were right about me, and actually I’d still like your input. Kyle is going to tell me what he’s required to tell me and be nice about it. You don’t have to, and I need someone to shoot me straight on this.”

  “I don’t know—”

  “I know in my own way I’m spoiled. People don’t usually tell me no when I want something. Kyle is going to make everything sound nice and okay—and I’m going to push back. I need you to tell me no because...you’re right.” She hugged the clothes to her chest. “I can be reckless. I can make rash decisions. We’ve been lucky that no one has ever gotten seriously injured on any of these trips, but it’s always a risk. You were right. Given the chance, I’d have run by that bus and back to the others. People would have gotten hurt because of me. Getting knocked on the head was probably a good thing.”

  “A good thing?” Felix snorted a laugh.

  “Hey, it made me compliant for a moment.” She chuckled, but it died off fast. She stared up at Felix’s eyes, uncomfortable with how much she needed him. “If things are going to be super, seriously dangerous, I need you to tell me that. I need you to tell me I’m being a risk, because I’m going to push to do more than is safe. I’m never going to stop thinking about the people we left behind. Deal?”

  “I can do that, and we are actively trying to figure out a way to help them. Kyle’s calling all his resources in on this one.” His gaze slid up a bit. “How’s your head doing?”

  “It’s attached.” She lifted her hand and pressed at the gash. Val had used a few steri strips to hold it closed in lieu of stitches. “Either it’ll be sore in the morning or I’ll hardly notice it.”

  “Come here.” Felix stepped back, making space in the bathroom for her.

  She took a step forward before she considered his words, what she was doing. Doing what she was told was such a foreign action. The scent of soap and man had her in some sort of strange trance.

  Felix took the clothes from her and set them on the counter. He grasped her head in his hands, his touch surprisingly gentle, and bent her head, examining the cut just over her temple that extended into her hair.

  “I’m not sure you want to wash this in the shower.” He frowned. “I’ll make you a deal, but you can’t tell the other guys. You shower, then I wash this.”

  “My hair?”

  “I’m uniquely qualified for this.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “You’ll wash the scab off and it’ll start bleeding again, if you’re lucky. If you aren’t, you’ll bleed, get dizzy and maybe even pass out and drown in here while no one is around. Either you take my deal or I’m going to get Val—”

  “You wouldn’t.” She pulled out of his grasp and glared at him.

  “I told you, my first priority is keeping you safe.”

  “From showers?”

  “If necessary.”

  Jackie rolled her eyes. One moment she was going breathless over him, the next she was considering his offer if only to drown him.

  “Out.” She shooed him away.

  “Am I going to wake up Val?”

  “Anyone e
ver tell you that you’re a bully?”

  “Anyone ever tell you that you’re stubborn?”

  “All the time.” She grinned.

  “I’ll be back in a minute to check on you.” He wagged his finger at her.

  She considered biting it, then thought better. If she hurt him, they’d be back in the need to wake Val up boat and that was one line Jackie didn’t want to cross. As soon as they got back to the others, Val and the rest would have their hands full.

  Felix backed out, his eyes narrowed and one side of his mouth quirked up. She grabbed the door and pushed it closed almost in his face, then leaned against it.

  What the hell was going on with her?

  It had to be that hit to the head.

  She edged toward the mirror and tilted her head to the side so she could see the damage. There was no way she really needed his help, was there?

  It looked worse than it felt right now. Tomorrow it would be incredibly sore. And down the line she was willing to bet this time she was going to scar. It was pretty deep and nasty.

  Damn it.

  He was right.

  Friday. PPM Headquarters, Nouakchott, Mauritania.

  Samba listened to the man on the other end of the line. His assistant, Lemine, stood by, another phone in hand.

  “Good. I’ll relay the word.” Samba nodded at Lemine, who turned and began issuing his orders.

  At this hour, everyone was out in the city. They should be celebrating the acquisition of a valuable bargaining chip, but once again Zeina’s intel had failed them. There were conflicting reports on whether or not someone had seen the Davis girl.

  It was probably better this way. If he captured the girl using Zeina’s intel and people, he’d be hard pressed not to give her what she wanted. But if it was his people and resources who found her, he could broker a bargain with the American companies, buying their support.

  Zeina thought she had more reach and power than she did. If it weren’t for her money, he’d have sent her home to her parents already. As it stood, the men her money paid for were too valuable to part with. So he’d put up with her a while longer, at least until he got what he wanted—the presidential palace. For too long, they’d allowed outsiders to influence their country, change their values and limit their rights. No more. When Samba assumed power, things would change. Women like Zeina would be put in their place, and once more they would return to the proper ways. Or at least that’s what Samba would tell his followers.

  “Sir?” Lemine approached him, phone in hand. “They’re working on it.”

  “Good.”

  5.

  Friday. Aegis Group safe house, Nouakchott, Mauritania.

  Jackie’s head throbbed, and she’d only washed her body and face. She sat on the toilet, pulling on the last bit of clothing, because she didn’t trust her sense of balance.

  Damn Felix for being right.

  How was this going to affect her ability to keep up? What if this wasn’t something that just went away? She’d be dead weight and a liability to the team.

  “Jackie, you okay?” A light tap at the door confirmed what she’d thought. Felix was haunting the hallway.

  “Yeah. I’m dressed.” She braced her hands on the toilet, grateful it wasn’t one of the more common squatty potties or else she’d be on the floor.

  The door swung open slowly and Felix leaned in.

  “Shower okay?” He squeezed around the door into the tight space.

  “Yeah.”

  “One word answers. You must be getting pretty tired.”

  “Just worried is all.”

  “About?”

  “This head wound. I mean, if I slow you guys down or—”

  “Come on.” Felix pinned her with a flat stare.

  “What?”

  “When’s the last time you slept?”

  “I don’t know.” She rubbed a hand over her face. “Time is getting kind of fuzzy.”

  “You haven’t slept, you’ve been hurt, you’ve hardly eaten. Your body is telling you enough and you aren’t listening.”

  She blinked at him. He’d put clothes on, which was kind of a shame, but his hair was loose around his shoulders. He really was too pretty to be here, in all this mess. There was something barely rugged enough that made her not question it too hard.

  “Earth to Jackie.” He waved his hand in front of her face.

  “What?” She blinked, but stopped short of shaking her head to clear her thoughts.

  “You’re tired.”

  “No, duh.”

  Felix shook his head and chuckled.

  “Okay.” He looked from the sink to the shower. “I think the best thing for us to do is get the stool that’s in my room for you to sit on and have you lean back against the vanity. I can use a cup to wash around your hair line and the wound. Sound good?”

  “You had me at sit.”

  Felix placed two small, travel-sized bottles on the counter and darted out without another word.

  Maybe he was right about more than one thing. Everything he said made sense. Now why hadn’t she thought of it? Probably because she couldn’t. She’d used up all her good sense, her energy, even her reserves, and now she was one wobbly moment from passing out on the floor in total shut down mode. She’d seen people do that. They’d be up, running around, tending to emergencies, then it was as if someone hit an off switch and they were out. She’d managed to never quite get there, but there was a first for everything.

  “Okay.” Felix rounded the corner, the so-called stool in hand.

  “I think that’s a side table.”

  “It’s tall enough and sturdy enough. We can call it whatever.” He set it down a few inches from the vanity and dug in his pocket. “Here.”

  “What is this?” She took the thing he offered her.

  “Protein bar. You didn’t eat. You need to. They don’t taste great, but its nutrients. Come on, up.” He kept his hand outstretched toward her.

  She didn’t want to take it, but she needed him. She grasped his wrist for better support and he hauled her to her feet, his grip firm. He guided her around the stool until they stood facing each other.

  “You do this for all the ladies you rescue?” She couldn’t be special. This had to be his thing, right?

  “No, but when my aunt broke her arm, I helped her wash her hair enough I think I know what I’m doing.” He flashed her that same, brief smile. “Sit.”

  Her knees buckled, and she sat on the table.

  “Eat.” He bumped her hand holding the bar.

  She busied herself ripping open the package, focusing on the questionable texture of the food instead of the man crowding in beside her. He saved people. He had an aunt he cared enough about to wash her hair. He was honest. Yeah, she thought he was pretty damn hot all things considered. And she’d smelled like a toilet bucket when they met, was likely to bleed profusely if something went wrong, and was as unsteady as...well, she couldn’t think of anything right now to compare herself to.

  “Lean.” Felix splayed his hands against her upper back.

  Jackie bit off a chunk of the protein bar, closed her eyes and gave up. He eased her into position, a towel cushioning the edge of the vanity, another tucked under her neck.

  He really did know what he was doing.

  “How’s this?” he asked.

  “Hm? What?”

  “The water temperature?”

  “Fine.”

  “I think you almost fell asleep on me there. Keep eating.”

  She took a bite and opened her eyes.

  Felix’s gaze flicked to hers and then back to the sink. A moment later she felt his fingers gently working against her scalp at the base of her head. Chewing was a chore, but he was right. She needed to eat.

  “Talk to me,” he said.

  “What am I supposed to talk about?” She watched the way the light glinted off his hair. Some was more gold than the rest, and there were bits of white blond. “Do you get highlights?�
�

  “No.” He chuckled and—was that her imagination, or did his cheeks seem a bit pink?

  “Is that just a natural, Viking thing? Perfect highlights?”

  “It’s from spending too much time in the sun with my hair braided. Only some of my hair gets bleached.”

  “If only that worked for the rest of us. In high school I got obsessed with highlights. Begged my dad to let me get them. He was so against it. So I went to a friend’s house, bought one of those home highlight kits—”

  “Oh no...”

  “Oh, yeah. My hair was orange. I must have gotten bleach into the cap because I had chunks of orange all over. I looked like some sort of horror anime character. It was awful. Dad freaked out, and I spent two days in a salon.” She snickered, half amused at herself, half at the shade of red her father’s face had achieved.

  “You’re the reason he lost most of his hair.”

  “Probably, yes.”

  “Never would have thought that.”

  “Why’d he send you guys after me?” She hadn’t forgotten that unanswered question.

  The smile left Felix’s face. He kept massaging at her scalp, working closer to the gash, but he didn’t speak.

  “He wants something. I know it. He’d probably leave me here to learn a lesson if there wasn’t something he was after. He doesn’t do anything out of the goodness of his heart.” She stared at the ceiling. The old aches throbbed. She liked to pretend her father’s indifference toward her as a person didn’t affect her, but it did.

  “I’m not allowed to tell you,” Felix said quietly. “I don’t agree with it, but I’m not allowed to.”

  “What if I tell you I won’t—”

  “Please don’t ask me to disobey my team leader.”

  What could be so bad they wouldn’t tell her about until later? Or were they even supposed to tell her at all? Were they bringing her home so Dad could—what? Tell her himself? That would be a first. He’d sent assistants and PAs to do that for him for most of her life.

  “You know one time he sent his Head of HR to my Father-Daughter Dance because he couldn’t go himself? I didn’t even want to go. He made me—and then he couldn’t be bothered to show up. Whatever he wants to tell me, I don’t care. I don’t want to know.” She closed her eyes and bit off more of the protein bar.