Hot Rebel (28 page)

They passed through the front rooms of the building and got shoved into a smaller room before a door slammed and a lock twisted. It was completely dark in the room. There was a window set high up in the wall, but it was very small and didn’t let in much light.

Victoria tested the strength of the cords tying her wrists. They were tight, but if she worked her way down into a crouch, she could get her hands in front of her by sliding them under her butt and stepping through her arms. It wasn’t easy, but she was flexible and she’d done it before. It was a good skill to have in her line of work.

“Are you okay?” she asked Nick as she carefully worked her way down, stretching her arms to go beneath her.

“Been better.”

Her arms ached with the effort, and the cords cut into her skin—but then her butt popped into the circle of her arms and she was able to slide them down until she could step through.
 

“I’ve got my hands in front of me,” she said.
 

He made a noise that might have been a laugh or a snort. “Don’t need to think about how flexible you are right now, Vic.”

“I don’t know, babe, maybe you do.” She walked over to where he’d leaned against the wall and groped for the knots at his wrists. “It’ll take your mind off things.”

She felt the knots. Carefully, she followed the ends of the cords, traced the knots, and tried to figure out how they were tied.
 

These men weren’t Boy Scouts, thankfully, and she eventually worked it out. Nooses secured by slipknots and secured again by simple overhand knots. It took a bit of tugging, but she worked them free and the tension in Nick’s arms eased.

“Goddamn,” he swore when the cords slid free. “That fucking hurts.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” It had been about four hours since he’d been shot, she reckoned. Fear tasted bitter in her throat as she prayed the wound wouldn’t get infected before they could get help.

Before
they could get help, not
if
. She wasn’t thinking in terms of ifs.

“Can you get me free?”

“Yeah.”

She stood in front of him while he worked the knots on her wrists. It took him longer, and he fumbled and cursed a bit, but she knew that every movement of his arm had to be agony.

Finally, the knots eased and she worked the cords open just enough to slip her wrists free. Then she reached up and touched his face. He turned his cheek into her palm, and she felt her heart clench. She had to get him out of here.

She made a circuit of the room, finding a mattress on the floor. There was nothing else, not even a chair.
 

“There’s a mattress to sit on.”
 

She helped him over to it, and he lowered himself. Then she knelt beside him, wrapping her arms around his head and pulling him to her chest, just relieved for the moment that they were both here and both alive.

He wrapped one arm around her and held her tight. She stroked his damp hair, twisting her fingers into it and remembering how it had felt when she’d dug her hands into it while he’d been making love to her.

God, she wanted that again. She wanted that and more. So much more. But right now she wanted to keep him talking. If he was talking, then she knew he was okay, at least for the moment.

“These men are opposition, aren’t they?”

“I think so. The Qu’rimi Army isn’t much more disciplined than this, but they have better structure. Usually.”

He would know better than she would because his job often involved other nations’ militaries. Hers didn’t. “If they were going to kill us, they’d have done it. Ransom?”

She eased away from him and started to feel carefully along his shirt. The field dressing was still in place, but he needed a sling. His T-shirt was damp, but she couldn’t tell if it was blood or sweat.

“Ransom is a good possibility,” he said. “They always need money to fuel the cause, and taking Westerners is often profitable for them.”

“That’s the best-case scenario.” She stood and removed her T-shirt. Then she tore it so she could fashion a sling to help support his arm.

“Stripping, Vic?”

“Just for you, sexy man.”

He laughed, though it didn’t sound particularly happy. “Wish I could take advantage of it. Would love to lick that sweet pussy of yours until you screamed for me.”

Her body tightened at the image that put into her brain. “And you will, I promise. Just not right now.”

She put the sling on him while he winced and groaned. But then it was done, and he let out a long sigh.

“Is that better?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

She took his good hand and squeezed. “I know it hurts, but maybe taking the weight off will help.”

He pulled her hand up to his mouth and kissed it. “It does, baby. Thanks.”

His skin was hot where it touched hers, but that wasn’t necessarily anything to worry about. Yet.

If he didn’t get medical attention soon, however, she was afraid he’d deteriorate fast. And she didn’t know what she would do when he did.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Victoria was dozing when a crash woke her. Belatedly, she realized someone had flung the door open and it had hit the wall. For a moment, her heart soared as she hoped that somehow they’d been rescued.

But that hope was proven futile when a light shined on her and Nick and a man laughed. She’d spent time prowling the room, looking for anything she could use as a weapon, but all she had were the clothes on her body and the cords they’d been tied with. It wasn’t much, but if someone got close enough, at least she could attempt to strangle them. She sat up and felt for the cords in her pocket.

Suddenly, an electric lantern lit the room and she could see three men. It was the one who was laughing that made her blood chill.

Beside her, Nick had grown very still. He was lying down, and while she’d felt him jerk with the crash of the door, he wasn’t moving now. His eyes were closed and her stomach fell. But he was still breathing, and that made relief flow through her. She could see now that the darkness on his T-shirt was blood, not sweat as she’d hoped.

She got to her feet, sick inside. Whether it was to shield Nick or confront the man laughing at them, she didn’t know. Anger and terror swirled in her belly.
 

Zaran bin Yusuf had changed since Emily had sent smiling selfies of her and him a few years ago when they’d first started dating in New Orleans. He now sported a black beard, cropped to nearly a point, and he wore Qu’rimi dress—a thobe and keffiyeh with black cords holding the headdress in place. He also wore a curved dagger at his waist, and a gun holstered near that. He looked absolutely formidable—and pleased beyond belief.

“When they told me they’d taken an American man and woman with enough guns to start their own army, I admit I’d hoped. There’s only one American woman I could think of who would be wandering the Qu’rimi desert with an arsenal at her disposal. Greetings, sister-in-law.”

Victoria’s skin crawled at the way his gaze raked over her bra-clad torso. Her stomach churned. She hadn’t wanted to believe that Emily had married this man, but it must be true. “Where is my sister?”

“Safe. For now.”

She didn’t want to know what that meant—and yet she did. She had to. “I want to see her.”

Zaran sat in a chair that someone had brought into the room for him. He stroked his beard as he studied her. “So you keep saying. Yet you are a bad influence on my wife. You make her remember her life before.”

“I’m her family.”

His expression clouded. “No, I
am
,” he shouted as he leaned forward to glare at her. “I am her family. I saved her, Victoria. I got her off drugs and alcohol when you could not. When you didn’t care.”

Victoria shivered as guilt slid through her. She knew it wasn’t her fault that Emily had spiraled into addiction, but she always wondered what she could have done differently. How she could have helped by staying instead of leaving Emily in treatment and going into the Army. She’d been trying to build a better life, but it had all imploded on her.

And led her to this moment, apparently, where she was at the mercy of a man who’d already tried to kill her once before. If only he would come closer. She thought about how she might take the gun from him if he did.

A sharp step to the instep, a blow to the kidney…

“I do care. I’ve always cared.” She wanted to ask him why Emily was calling her and saying she wanted to go home, but she knew that wouldn’t be a good idea. If he’d exploded over her saying she was Emily’s family, what would he do when she suggested Emily preferred her to him?

“If you cared, you would stop trying to be a part of her life. She is confused when you speak with her. This is her life now, yet she feels nostalgia for her old life when you interfere.”

She clasped her hands together and decided to try to pacify this man. If she could just get him closer. It would be a risk, but if he was off his guard, she could take the gun. She was small and agile, and she had training he couldn’t imagine.

“Then I’m sorry. But you didn’t have to try to kill me for it.”

He snorted. “You are a hard woman to kill, it would seem. My men were never heard from again, yet here you are.”

“They were probably terrified that I got away from them. I imagine they’re on a beach in Thailand or something.”

His eyes narrowed. “Yes, perhaps.” His gaze slid to Nick and then back to her, one eyebrow arching. “And perhaps you had help escaping and disposing of the bodies.”

Victoria swallowed. “I guess we’ll never know.” She lifted her chin. “It’s good you failed, Zaran. Think how horrible it would be to have your wife’s only sister’s death on your hands.”

“It would not have been on my hands. It still will not. I am not the one who will do it.”

“But you will order it done. You can’t escape culpability with semantics.”

“This is a choice I can live with, Victoria. It must be done for Emily’s well-being.”

She couldn’t fathom the sickness of his logic. And she knew she couldn’t argue with him, either.

“The least you can do is allow me to see her one last time.”

“The least I can do is make sure you do not suffer when the time comes.”

Victoria pulled in a deep breath, though her insides were churning and her anger was so palpable she thought Zaran could probably see it pulsing in the air between them. She threw a look at Nick. He hadn’t moved.

“Let him go,” she said. “It’s me you want. He’s got nothing to do with this.”

“It looks to me like the choice has already been made for him.”

“Send a doctor then. Clean the wound, remove any fragments, and give him painkillers. He’s worth something to you. To the Americans. They’ll pay to get him back.”

He cocked his head. “Not to Ian Black? Most interesting.”

Her heart thumped. So he did know Ian. Of course he did. “Did Ian know you intended to kill me that day?”

“I don’t have to clear my plans with Ian Black. He’s a tool, the same as you are. He is useful to the Freedom Force, though not as useful as he could be.”
 

Though she was furious with Ian for working for this asshole in the first place, she was thankful that her instincts about his involvement in the attempt on her life hadn’t been wrong. It wasn’t much, but it was something.
 

Zaran sat back and folded his arms. “You shot the Russian.”

She had no idea whose agenda she’d been carrying out last night, but at this evidence that Zaran bin Yusuf knew about Chernovsky and the smallpox, her anger spiked anew.

“Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“I did. Thank you.”

God, she hated this man. She wished she could rewind a few weeks and take a different shot. Or that she’d been a split second too late with her shot, because Nick would have made his.

Maybe she’d had it all wrong. Maybe it would have given Emily the opening she needed to escape this man instead of endangering her.

“Be careful what you unleash into the world, Zaran. You can’t control who it sickens or how far it spreads. It could be you… or Emily.”

He got to his feet in a swirl of robes. “These are the chances we take in war.”

Then he turned and strode from the room. The two men who’d stood silently also went with him and the door shut with a thunk.

Victoria swore. If she hadn’t pissed him off so quickly, she might have gotten her chance. Though it was lucky the two men hadn’t been ordered to kill her when Zaran walked out.
 

But the men were gone, she was alone with Nick, and they now had a chair and a battery-powered lantern.
 

She bent over the mattress and smoothed her hand over Nick’s hair. His eyes shot open, their hazel depths angry.

“Oh my God, I thought you were leaving me,” she cried before she sank down and took his head in her lap.

“Not planning on it.” His voice was hoarse and she realized his skin was hotter than before.

“Good, because I’m not ready for this to end. I want more time with you. I want more
time
.”