“Well, if they grab my crotch on the way in, they’ll get two handfuls of a big cocky surprise anyway, so I think I’ll add this to the package.” I lift my dress and stuff the stun gun into my briefs.
The guys chuckle, but they know the seriousness of what we’re about to do… and the slim-to-none odds of pulling it off successfully.
“We’ll be right here with our finger on the engines, ready to roll when we see you coming. Try not to bring too much company back with you. I really don’t want to test my pilot skills against the Royal Saudi Air Force fighter jets.” John shakes my hand—equally in a symbol of wishing me good luck and in saying goodbye to me for good.
“Roman and I are going to the detention center now. The rest of you should stay here—nearby. I don’t know how long it’ll take us to get in and out, but it doesn’t make sense to put everyone’s lives on the line. If you don’t hear from us by morning, get out of the country and get yourselves to safety.” Shadow makes it a point to look at each man individually when speaks, driving his point home.
“You’re my brother. I’m going in beside you.” Noah steps up next to him. “My nickname is Reaper for a reason.”
“Noah is my brother—literally—and I’m going in beside him. Roman is my junior officer. I’m going in beside him.” Silas steps beside me.
“None of you are going anywhere without me. We’re in this together.” Nick puts his hands on his hips and stares us down.
Shadow drops his head and stares at the ground. “Noah, your wife will murder me if I go home without you. And Silas, your wife is a trained agent. She’ll kill me in my sleep if I go home without you. Nick, your wife and her nanny will have my head and my balls on a pike.”
“You don’t think Elle would do the same to us if we let you go in there alone?” Silas counters.
“Look, I’m the one going in as a woman. I think you all should stay outside. You can get ready to give us a hand when we get out, and they’re hot on our asses. That way, we have the element of surprise on our side inside and outside of the facility.”
“I don’t like it.” Silas shakes his head.
“How many fathers tour the facility when they send their wayward daughters off to a torture center? None. They kick them to the curb and drive off on their merry way. If I have four male guardians escort me inside, they’ll know right away something is up. We can’t raise all those red flags.”
“He’s right, Silas. Let the kid have this one. We’ll cover the outside and push them back long enough for Roman and Tawnee to make a break for it.” Noah claps his brother on the shoulder. “You know this is the right plan.”
“Shit. Okay, fine. Let’s get this over with. Everyone ready to go?”
“I’ve been ready all fucking day. Let’s go.” I slide into the back seat, putting on the shamed demeanor of an unruly adult child.
Shadow drives us through the capital city until we reach the outskirts on the other side and the night grows darker. He drops the guys off about a block from the destination so they can get in place. The lack of consistent streetlights only amplifies the misery and gloom of the women’s prison. I’ve heard horror stories about these places—the women who were arrested for having premarital sex because they were raped, the morality police threw them in prison for not meeting their religious standards, and some women were imprisoned for having a job without their husband’s permission. Daily lashes. Torture by electric shocks. Prolonged solitary confinement.
He parks in front of the center to drop me off and talk to the guard. We had already decided he’d tell the guard my vocal cords were damaged, so I don’t speak, rendering me worthless to him since he can’t marry me off. He’ll ask to see where I’ll be kept, ensuring I don’t have to answer any questions between the door and my cell, but then the rest will be on me.
Escape from my cell.
Find Tawnee.
Get us both out.
Alive. That one is important.
By morning.
No pressure.
Shadow bangs on the door, and a guard opens it almost immediately. They talk while I keep my head bowed, not daring to look at them while they discuss how terrible I am. Shadow grabs my arm, pushes me forward, and I follow in line behind the guard. While they speak in a language that makes no sense to me, I scan the area for exits, the total number of guards, and the proximity of the cells.
As we pass the inhabited cells, I search each one for Tawnee. My anger grows with every woman I see on the stroll toward my cell. Abused, neglected, and forgotten—every one of them. Rocking in the corner, talking to herself, crying or screaming, and every variation in between. Then I stop dead in my tracks when I see a woman passed out on the floor, swollen bruises and scratches across her face and neck, and wearing torn clothes.
After several steps, the guard notices I’m not right on their heels anymore and turns to yell at me. I don’t care what he’s saying. I don’t care how mad he is. Nothing else matters.
Because that woman on the floor who has been beaten unconscious is Tawnee.
And culpable or not, this motherfucker is guilty as sin in my eyes.
He comes closer, getting in my face to scream at me, his spittle spraying on me while his horrible breath could knock me out on its own. Under normal circumstances. But nothing about this is normal. My rage has burned past the point of madness. Now, I’m emotionally numb. The cold and calculating side of me has emerged, and he only wants to witness the carnage.
Shadow searches my eyes and realizes something is horribly wrong. His gaze jumps to the cell beside me, and the ruthless assassin he’s rumored to be comes to life.
The guard continues to spew his vitriol, and I’ve heard enough of it. With a quick jab to his nose, I knock him backward. He stumbles over Shadow’s foot and falls to the ground. I move to stand over him, jerk the ridiculous garb I’m wearing off me, and punch him directly in the throat. His hands wrap around his own neck, then he sputters and coughs as he tries to breathe, and he flails on the ground when his oxygen reserves expire. I could easily end his suffering rather than letting him slowly suffocate to death, but I don’t want to.
I grab the keys off his belt and unlock Tawnee’s cell door. Men’s voices carry down the hall, growing closer to where we are. The other guards on duty tonight, no doubt. The man who’s barely moving on the floor probably drew the short straw and had to work through his break time.
“Shadow, you should get out of here before the rest get in here. We don’t know what kind of weapons they have access to in here.” I whisper to him as I kneel beside Tawnee and remove the stun gun from my briefs.
“You’re full of shit, Roman. I’m not leaving you alone now. We still have the element of surprise, and we have more backup outside. Let’s get her out of this cell. She needs to be close to the front door when the fighting starts.”
After we lift her off the floor, we each wrap an arm around her waist and pull her arms around our necks. With her supported between us, we sprint toward the front door to get her to safety. The chattering voices enter the room and turn to angry shouts. Sirens blare throughout the facility, doors fling open and more men run out, and the automatic door locks slide into place.
A dozen men descend on us, but I don’t feel panicked at all. There’s no fucking way they’re taking her back into that cell. They’ll have to go through me to reach her, and there’s no fucking way that will happen. Shadow releases her into my arms and prepares to fight off the first wave. I gently set her down in the corner behind me, then take my place beside Shadow.
The guards brandish a variety of weapons. Some carry a flogger, others have a cattle prod, and a few have whips. But we’re ready for them. We’re trained Special Forces operatives and CIA officers. The more weapons they bring my way, the more I’ll have to use against them. The first man moves in too close, and I hit him with the stun gun. He screams loudly from the electric shock, and I wonder if he realizes he’s only receiving a small taste of his ow
n medicine. When he goes down, I take the flogger from his hand and give it to Shadow.
Several more rush us at once, and though we don’t escape entirely unscathed, they definitely hobble away worse for wear. Shadow now holds out two charged cattle prods, fending off the brave but stupid men who try to advance on us, while I try the different keys on the front door. When I find the correct one, I cradle Tawnee against my chest while I run outside, and Shadow covers my back. Reaper, Nick, and Silas meet us at the curb and jump into the fracas to lend a hand. A crowd gathers in the streets, lights in the surrounding apartments blink on, and angry voices increase in volume and numbers.
“Get in. Get the fuck in, and let’s get out of here before the whole neighborhood descends on us.” Silas slides behind the wheel and peels away from the building before we’ve even closed the car doors.
No matter. We disappear into the night, park the car in a crowded parking lot, and quickly jump into another one. When they eventually find the original vehicle, we’ll be long gone—flying far away from here.
“Tawnee, sweets, can you hear me?” She hasn’t opened her eyes yet. I don’t know if she needs a hospital or a good night’s sleep. I don’t know if they’ve drugged her or if she has brain damage and internal injuries.
Nervous glances come from everyone in the vehicle, but no one says anything. We can’t get her medical help in this country. Our only choice is to see our original plan through until we’re in a country where she’s safe. We can’t stop in Dubai because the religious police have been known to snatch Saudis off the streets there and take them back home to face their punishment.
“Can we get her to Paris tonight? Or Frankfurt?” My voice sounds hollow, but I’m grasping at straws here.
“They’re both about the same flight time away. We’re looking at a six-hour flight to reach either city.” Shadow scrubs his hand over his face. “Let’s get back to Jason and John, put her on the plane, and we can do a field assessment on her. Then we’ll talk about next steps.”
Next steps?
I don’t have any next steps without her. I took a hard-line approach when I vowed to get her back, and nothing can make me back down from my promise. Under the passing illumination of the streetlights, I examine her wounds, her skin color, and make sure she’s breathing regularly.
“You have to wake up, sweets. There’s something I never took the time to tell you, and I need to say it now more than ever. But I’m not saying it until I know you can hear every word.” I place a soft kiss on her forehead and say a prayer, asking God to give her back to me.
Jason and John wait inside the plane with the engines fired up, knowing we’re coming in hot. When we board with her, John assures us he can take off alone so Jason can tend to her wounds.
“Scoot back just a little, Roman. I was a medic in the Army and a paramedic on the truck when I got out of the service. I promise I’ll take good care of her.”
I move to the floor and let them stretch her out on the long bench seat. I feel the thrust of the jet engines when we start down the runway. The plane lifts off the ground, but John keeps us low, avoiding radar for as long as possible. Jason continues his assessment of her, checking her pupils, her breathing, and her heart sounds. Her pulse is a bit slow, but that’s not unusual for her condition.
“She doesn’t have any obvious signs of internal bleeding—either in her torso or her brain. My guess is they gave her a dose of pain medication, or something similar, to knock her out after they tortured her. Her wounds are still very fresh. My advice is to let her sleep for a couple more hours then we’ll decide if we should land somewhere for medical attention.” Jason sits back on his heels and looks at me, waiting for a final decision.
“Okay, that’s our plan, then. Keep monitoring her and reassess after a couple of hours. I’ll stay right here beside her and watch for any change in her condition.”
After the longest ninety minutes of my life, John announces we have cleared Saudi airspace and are on route to Paris unless we tell him differently.
“Tawnee, sweets, can you hear me? Hey, Tawnee, can you wake up for me now?” I kiss the back of her hand and stroke her hair, being careful not to touch any of the bruised or scratched places.
Feeling helpless, I look at Silas and wait for advice.
Chapter 23
Tawnee
I hear Roman’s voice, calling my name, but I can’t open my eyes to see him. He sounds so far away, and my eyelids feel so heavy, as if they’re nailed shut.
Every inch of my body hurts. Snippets of memories flash in my mind, like a movie reel that tries to play but keeps getting stuck. I try to focus on what I remember, but a dense fog has settled on my brain and I can’t think straight.
Then it all comes rushing back at me at once.
The men who took me.
The prison guards who tortured me.
The woman in the infirmary who gave me an injection of something, though she wouldn’t tell me what it was. She wasn’t pleased that they’d been so rough with me on my first day. Apparently, they prefer to dish out the torture in metered doses so they can remind the wayward girls on a daily basis. She mumbled to me, in English, about how I wouldn’t be able to take my punishment tomorrow because they’d had too much fun with me today.
Lovely lady, that nurse.
“Tawnee, sweets, you have got to open your eyes now so I know you’re okay, or we’ll be forced to land wherever we are right now and take you to the hospital. It’s now or never—this is your last warning.” Roman sounds so distraught.
I fight against my welded-shut eyelids and finally manage to pry one open. The ecstatic expression on his face from my opening one eye makes me wonder if I look as banged up as I feel. He gently wraps his hand around mine, not squeezing but sharing his strength with me just the same.
“Thank you, God.” He kisses the back of my hand over and over. “Tawnee, can you speak? Do you want to go to the hospital right now?”
“No.” My voice is hoarse and barely audible, but I force it enough for him to hear me. “I’ll be okay.”
“Do you know if they gave you any medications?” That’s Jason’s voice. I manage to open the other eyelid and focus on his face.
“Yes. An injection to make me sleep.”
“Okay, I’m putting the portable oxygen on you just to be on the safe side. We’ll take turns staying up to watch you until we reach Paris. John’s flying the plane, and he’s an excellent pilot. Between all of us, we’ve got you covered.” Jason smiles, and I realize I’m happy to see him. Those two didn’t turn to the dark side after all.
“No need to take turns. I won’t be able to sleep until I know she’s all right. You guys should rest while you can, though. I’m not leaving her side.” Roman leans in and softly kisses me on the lips. Even though it’s only been about twenty-four hours since I last saw him, it feels like an eternity that we’ve been apart.
“Never again,” I whisper.
“Never.” He shakes his head. “You’re stuck with me forever, sweets. There’s no getting rid of me now.”
My eyes are too heavy to keep open, so I let them close on their own. Sleep overtakes me again, but this time, it feels different. A warm hand holds mine close to his heart, and I feel him at my side throughout the entire flight. He checks on me, he makes sure my oxygen mask is on correctly, and he whispers sweet nothings to me. Wrapped in the warmth of his love, I’m able to relax and let the dreams flow. Dreams of him and me. Dreams of our future. Dreams of our love. The best dreams I’ve ever had.
But not better than the real thing.
When the medicine starts wearing off and the grogginess fades, I open my eyes and find Roman still sitting guard over me. He’s sitting on the floor and must be uncomfortable after all this time. After I slip the oxygen mask off my face, I move against the back of the bench as much as I can then pat the empty space.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” He looks up and down my body. I don’t bother to loo
k at the scratches and gashes and bruises. I can feel them without needing to see them.
“You won’t hurt me.”
He turns off the oxygen canister then gingerly moves to join me, facing me as he lies down. “I thought I’d lost you for a while there. You wouldn’t wake up, even when I carried you in my arms.”
“That was only because of the medicine she gave me. I’ll be all right after a little R&R.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t reach you in time to stop them. I’ll never forgive myself for that.” He closes his eyes then squeezes them, fighting back the emotions inside.
“None of this was your fault. Not one single thing that happened. Don’t you dare try to take the blame for it. This is all on Rafael, and he’s the one who will pay for it. Not you.” I run my fingers through his hair then along the scruff of his beard.
“Tawnee, there’s something I have to tell you, and I should have told you a long time ago. I shouldn’t have kept this from you.”
“What is it?”
“I love you. I’ve always loved you, and only you. I will only ever love you. You are my soul mate…the other half of my soul.”
“I love you, too, Roman. You’re the only man I’ve ever loved, and I still love you after all this time.”
His kiss holds more urgency this time. It’s not as soft. He’s not as afraid of hurting me. It’s perfect.
“You’re right about one thing. Rafael will absolutely pay for this. He won’t get away with it.”
“Neither will Tabitha or Carter. They were both in on it too. I will hunt them to the ends of the earth if I have to.”
He lifts his hand to my face and skims his fingers from my forehead, along my cheek, and down to my chin. His eyes search mine before lingering on every wound, no matter how large or small. There’s a question in his expression, but he’s afraid to ask it.
“What do you want to know, Roman? You can ask me. I won’t break, I promise I’m not that fragile.” I smile as widely as I can without wincing to convince him.
HARD LINE Page 20
