Escape to Morning

by Susan May Warren

  Another shot, and Will roared in fury. She looked over at him, saw blood gushing down his arm. He shot her a look, and in it she recognized agony.

  A hand fisted her hair. Someone hauled her to her feet.

  “Drop it.” Whoever had her also pointed a gun at Will.

  Will laid the gun back down.

  Dani struggled against the shooting pain in her scalp. She twisted, aiming for his shin, something—anything—and earned a fresh batch of anguish.

  “Stop,” the dark voice ordered with a sharp edge of menace. She stilled and let him lead her awkwardly over to Will’s weapon. The man picked it up, slung it over his arm, then shoved her away from him.

  She landed in the dirt next to Will. He was clutching his upper arm, as blood rushed through his fingers. His face had turned white despite the grim set of his mouth.

  “Tie his hands.”

  She turned, scowling at the guy with the gun. “With what?”

  He narrowed his eyes at her, then scanned the forest. “Call your dog.”

  She froze.

  He took a step closer and pointed his gun at Will’s head. “Call him.”

  Yes, okay. Calm down. She somehow managed a whistle.

  Kirby emerged out of the woods, slunk toward her, the hair up on his back.

  “Take off his collar.”

  With trembling hands, she undid Kirby’s collar, then ran a hand under his chin. “Good dog.” Go find Conner. Find Micah. She pushed the dog away, hoping he could read her thoughts.

  “Tie him up.”

  “He’s bleeding,” she snapped.

  The man fired, aiming not far from Will’s head. She jumped, screamed. The shot chipped up dirt and loam from the forest floor and left a ringing in her ears.

  “Next time it’ll be the dog. Or your boyfriend.”

  She nodded, words stifled in her throat.

  Will glared at the man as he turned to let Dani tie his hands. The blood ran freely down his arm, and she noticed his jaw tighten. Why hadn’t she listened to him? trusted him? But no, she’d had to be the boss, had to have her way.

  Just like she’d had to drag Ashley along on her misadventures. It seemed she still hadn’t figured out how to keep the people she loved out of trouble.

  Loved? The thought dug a trench through her heart as she tightened Kirby’s collar around Will’s wrists. He didn’t look at her, but she glimpsed the fury on his handsome face. Dirt embedded his whiskers, and blood smeared his face, probably from diving for his gun.

  While she lay in the dirt and screamed, he’d been trying to protect her. Regardless of who he was, he still played the hero.

  Yeah, she might be falling in love with Will Masterson. She knew she loved his smile, his teasing. Loved the way he tried to keep her safe, even bossed her around. Loved the gentle way he played with her dog and even the tender place inside him that let her see his pain.

  She finished cinching the collar, hating the way one of Will’s eyes crinkled, as if absorbing his pain. She ached for him clear through to her bones.

  “Get on your feet.”

  She stood, then helped Will up. He still didn’t look at her. She didn’t blame him. She couldn’t look at herself.

  “Move.” The man motioned with his weapon.

  “Let me at least bind his wound, please.”

  “Dani—”

  “Will, please. You’re bleeding. You could lose your arm.”

  He met her eyes, and the grief in them felt like a rake over her soul. He clenched his jaw. “I should have never dragged you into this.”

  Into what? “Let me do this,” she said, ignoring his comment and the way it speared her through. She pulled off her pack, dropped it, and fished out a bandanna. She put a wool sock over the wound. He tried to hide a wince when she tightened the bandanna around his arm to hold the sock in place and staunch the bleeding, but she saw it. Tears burned her eyes. She reached for her pack.

  “Leave it,” the man said. “Move.”

  Will glared at him again, then turned and began to hike through the forest.

  Dani followed, wondering what she’d gotten them all into.

  If things could get worse, Will knew he’d hit bottom when he saw the waif of a girl crumpled on the forest floor. Something inside him seized up and burned when he realized she’d been roughed up. Outside and in. Blood trailed from a slightly puffy lip, a bruise on her face, and she held her arm, as if it had been sprained.

  When she lifted her gaze to his, he wanted to moan. Her dark, almost black, eyes were lined with sorrow.

  He’d failed her. And Dani.

  He could barely look at Dani. Every time he did, pain wrapped bitter tentacles around his heart. Why hadn’t he forced her to go back? ditched her in the night?

  Never let her into his life.

  That thought closed his throat. No, he didn’t want her out of his life. But he didn’t have any other choice now, did he? He had to figure out how to get Amina out of Hayata’s clutches and to DC. And then he’d have to disappear again.

  So much for learning to drive tractors in Iowa.

  His guard motioned for him to sit against a tree, across from Amina. They ordered Dani against another tree, far enough away to discourage clandestine conversation. She pulled her knees up to her chest and stared at Will. Tears had etched grimy trails down her cheeks.

  He leaned his head against the tree, listening to the two Hayata terrorists discuss their fate. The big one—large and dark and looking exactly how Will had expected—thought they should simply dispatch them here, where their corpses could decay into the soil.

  The other one—with light brown hair, Asian features, and wearing earrings—seemed to want to bring them back to the compound, perhaps for questioning, maybe a little torture fun.

  Yes, things could get much—much worse.

  Will cast another glance at Dani. I know I screwed up here, God, but please let Dani live.

  He gritted his teeth as he twisted his wrists inside Kirby’s collar. The dog had taken off shortly after Dark and Armed had thrown a stick at him. He prayed the animal had returned to Conner and Micah, who, hopefully, would read the signs and alert the cavalry. But what would they think? Kidnapped by terrorists certainly wouldn’t be the first assumption that popped into their minds.

  Thankfully, however, he’d told Conner enough to make him wonder.

  With some time, Will could work himself free. But he’d have to gauge the moment. And now that he had two victims to look out for … it wasn’t impossible, but it certainly made things more interesting.

  Especially with one wing damaged. His wound burned, one continuous searing as if someone had jammed a poker through his arm. He’d actually moaned when he’d been jostled into a tree.

  When Dani had carefully tended it, he’d felt that moan clear to his heart as her gentle hands ministered to his wound. He couldn’t believe that he’d dragged her into this, hadn’t been strong enough to push her away.

  Oh, he was really doing things God’s way, wasn’t he? He should earn medals, get a prize for letting his heart lead the woman he wanted to love to her death. And, if he was really lucky, he’d watch her being tortured. He yanked himself away from that image before it consumed him.

  The light-haired man won the argument. “Get up,” he said, kicking Will. Will doubled over, his empty stomach roiling. Blondie patted him down and withdrew his knife, extra ammo, and his cell phone, crushing it into the dirt with a sneer.

  Will watched as they walked over to Dani. If they so much as touched—

  She stood, gave Will a pale look, then walked over to the girl. And, oh, bless her, she helped the girl to her feet.

  Dani, the compassionate one. He wanted to hobble over and kiss her.

  The terrorists made Will lead the procession, the ladies behind him. The sun climbed overhead, eating off the mist trapped in the forest, digging regrets into his chest with every step.

  “God is my portion.” The words lined h
is brain, one foot-step after another. Redeemer … reputation … rescuer?

  Please, God, be my portion and Dani’s portion in every way.

  The day wore on as they trekked back to the forest-service road, confirming—as if he needed it—that these were the same thugs he’d tussled with before the storm.

  By mid-afternoon, they’d broken free of the forest. Dani said nothing as she held the girl’s hand. He had to give Amina credit. She hadn’t whined, hadn’t even spoken a word. She had to be tired and hungry after days on the run. And wearing nothing but a pair of jeans, a T-shirt, a torn jacket, and a blanket, she must be near hypothermia.

  No wonder Dani hadn’t left her side.

  The Hayatas shoved him toward a filthy pickup truck with a bed topper. He recognized it as the one he’d seen in the compound during his sneak and peek. Up close, it was dirtier and smelled of smoke and oil. The blond thug checked Will’s bonds, and for a second, as he loosened them, Will’s adrenaline surged into his veins. He turned, yanked his hand free, and sent it into Blondie’s chin.

  Blondie flinched; Will ducked for a tackle.

  Dark and Armed clocked him with the butt of his weapon.

  Will hit the ground, head spinning. A knee to his back and he ate dirt as they trussed him back up. The collar dug into his wrists, cutting off blood, as they cinched it tight.

  He heard Dani stifle a sob when they kicked him again in the kidneys. He fought a black wave that threatened to suck him away from the noise and pain. Awake, he had to stay awake. Because if the terrorists got them to the Hayata compound, it was over.

  Will staggered to his knees, then to his feet. They dumped him into the bed of the truck, which reeked with the cloying scent of gasoline and wood chips. He crawled to the back, hunkered down in the corner.

  Dani moved to follow him, but Blondie grabbed her.

  Will started toward her. “Let her go.”

  “Shut up.” Blondie pushed Dani’s face into the pickup bed, seized her arms, and wrapped them with duct tape.

  She said nothing when she climbed in beside Will.

  Will wanted to howl. He felt her nestle close to him, felt her frailty, her courage. “It’ll be okay, Dani,” he said quietly.

  Still, she said nothing. But when she looked at him with a broken expression on her face, he knew that it wasn’t going to be okay.

  Not ever.

  The men closed the tailgate, bathing Will and Dani in filmy grayness.

  “Where are they taking us?” Dani asked. Obviously she thought he knew the answer.

  He swallowed slowly, not sure what to say. What a jerk. She’d been kidnapped and now was probably going to be killed, and still he wanted to live a lie? She deserved better. She deserved the truth.

  Will knew this moment would come. But it didn’t make the words any easier to claw out of his throat, nor did it kill the moan in his voice. “They’re terrorists. And they’re probably taking us to Azmi, their camp.”

  Dani sighed. “Oh.”

  But that simple word was a direct hit right in his heart.

  Fadima climbed in between the two men, a repeat from several days ago when they’d picked her up from the airport. Why hadn’t she trusted her instincts and returned to the cabin? Obviously the soldier wasn’t out to capture her, and if it weren’t for the tall blonde woman, she might have let despair overtake her.

  As it were, her jaw ached and she felt numb.

  They would torture her, then kill her.

  Papa, I’m sorry. After years of patient training and months of plotting, she could hardly believe that everything they worked for would sink into the soil with her blood.

  If she was going to die, she’d do it taking out the Hayata operatives who had killed her mother. Fadima’s death would be a victory. She only regretted costing the lives of the two innocents in back.

  While the darker one called in their position on his radio, the other turned the truck around, muscled the gears into drive, then headed down the dirt road, kicking up stones and mud. Forest flanked the road, ageless trees that hovered with bushy arms, gullies that descended into spring-fed creeks.

  Fadima rubbed her sweaty palms on her muddy jeans, her heartbeat wild. They hadn’t tied her up like the other two— probably because they didn’t suspect that the princess of Tazar might have the courage of the warriors she grew up with.

  She hid a smile. She would die the hero her father had trained her to be.

  Chapter 19

  THEY RODE ALONG in bumpy agony, jostled by the ruts in the road. The acrid redolence of the pickup raked her nose, but Dani succumbed to her emotions.

  Terrorists? Her mind had stopped working at that word. If Will had said anything else, it had been lost in the churning of her panic.

  Terrorists?

  She felt her world slowly skidding from her grasp. Oh, who was she kidding? Her world had taken a right-handed, two-wheeled screech to frightening the moment she’d seen Terrorist A emerge from behind a tree and shoot the guy she thought was a reporter. The same guy who was now trying to keep her calm by saying, “It’ll be okay.”

  Yeah, right. Which part?

  She gulped a breath. Time to replay the events so she could catch up. Starting with the day Will had nearly run over her dog. “Who are you?” Dani asked Will.

  Sitting tightly against him probably didn’t do her breaking heart any good. But despite feeling like he might be a stranger—and a scary one at that—she needed his warmth. Needed that reminder that she wasn’t the only one with her world in shambles.

  Certainly this wasn’t in his game plan, right?

  “My name is Will Masterson.”

  “But you’re not a reporter, right?” She closed her eyes.

  Please, please …

  “No.”

  She wasn’t sure if that was relief or regret whooshing out of her in a sigh. But she felt cold trickle down her spine. “You’re some sort of cop, aren’t you?”

  He sighed too, and she wondered what that meant. “Yeah. I’m with Homeland Security. We’ve been tracking these guys for a while, and this girl you and I were looking for—her name is Amina—she’s a really important asset. If they get back to camp with her, they’ll kill her. But not before they torture information out of her. And they aren’t afraid to go for the gusto, do what they—”

  “Yeah, that’s good, Will. You don’t need to paint a picture for me.”

  “I think I do, Dani. Because the thing is, you’re in this, and if you know what might be waiting, maybe you’ll be prepared.”

  For? She froze. “You don’t mean that they’ll …” She glanced at him.

  He nodded, and his bleak expression dried her mouth. But the wretched pain in his eyes was even worse. “Dani, I’m so, so sorry. I should have dodged you from the beginning. There’s no excuse for my getting you into this.”

  She took a calming breath. “What are you talking about? I kept following you, if you remember.”

  He looked sick. “Yeah, but I knew you had Missy, and in my brain, I thought, well, maybe I could follow you. Then when I realized we were in danger, it was too late, and all I could think about was keeping you safe—”

  “So that was the secure-hideout bit before the storm?”

  “Yeah. I knew they were on our tail, and—” he shook his head—“I shouldn’t have let you follow me yesterday. I should have sent you home—”

  She gave a huff of laughter. “I don’t suppose you remember my ‘you’re not the boss of me’? I was there, and I wasn’t going anywhere.”

  “You might have if I had told you the truth.”

  His solemn tone, the look in his eyes—he was serious. He blamed himself. She wanted to reach out and touch his face, to tell him that it wasn’t his fault. …

  Wake up, Dani—Dannette—he lied to you. Lied.

  She backed away, feeling pain, sharp and bristly. Lied. More than once. And she’d even given him a measure of trust—saying that she could accept his job as a
journalist. She wanted to wail. He must have been laughing, chortling—oh, ha ha ha—at her stupidity. To think she’d actually called him honest. Trustworthy.

  Not only that, but he was a soldier. A danger guy. The Rambo act wasn’t a short-term gig. It was permanent.

  She eyed him, feeling her heart twist. “Who are you?” Her voice shook. She hated it for betraying her—again. Where were Jim Micah and Conner when she needed them?

  “I’m just a guy trying to do the right thing,” he said softly. “Please believe that.”

  “I don’t know what to believe,” she snapped. “Are you even from South Dakota? Or was the cowboy swagger just a put-on to get me to … to …” Her voiced seized as she remembered how she’d kissed him. “I’ll take my chances,” she’d said. Ha! What had she been thinking? Her grandmother would have taken her out to the barn with a switch if she knew how easily Dannette had given away her heart. She felt repugnant.

  “I never meant to hurt you,” Will said, and she hardened her heart to the agony in his voice. “I purposely didn’t … well, you kissed me.”

  She closed her eyes. Thanks for digging that knife in farther, Will.

  Silence. Except for the pinging of stone against the truck’s bed, the grind of the wheels against the dirt. “I can’t believe I ever trusted you. I’ll never make that mistake again.”

  “Dani, you have to believe that with the exception of my profession everything I told you was the truth.”

  She couldn’t bear to look at him. “Lew was the truth? Or just a way to sucker my feelings?”

  He drew in a shaky breath, and despite her fury, it sounded like he’d been punched in the chest. Oh, please, Lord, don’t let me love this man. Don’t let me buy his story. He lied!

  “Lew was the truth. But here’s the bigger truth.” His gaze burned into her until she turned away. His eyes were dark, and she felt them on her—no, inside her, touching her soul. “I know I’m not the guy you thought I was. But in every important way, I want to be. I want to be your friend and … more. I want to be the guy who makes you feel safe, who you turn to when your dog is hurt or when you just need a hug. I want to be the guy who makes you homemade ice cream and buys you every dog movie on the planet.” He swallowed. “I want to be God’s man for you—today and every day. Please believe that about me.”