Текст книги "Striking Distance"
Автор книги: Pamela Clare
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Текущая страница: 17 (всего у книги 23 страниц)
“I was so sick to my stomach, so disgusted, that I didn’t ask a single question. I got back to the station with nothing. I almost got fired that day, but I didn’t care. I made up my mind that night never to accept an assignment that I felt compromised my integrity.”
He ran his knuckles over her cheek, wondering what he’d done to deserve this time with her. “I’ve never known anyone like you,
bella
.”
His cell phone buzzed.
“Hey, McBride, what’s up?”
“Tower has regained consciousness. You said you wanted to be there when we questioned him. I can have Childers there in ten to watch over Laura if you want to come along.”
“I’ll be ready.”
* * *
LIGHT, PAIN, AND noise seemed to crash in on Derek all at once—a steady beep, a mechanical sound like breathing, and voices.
A sea of women’s faces. Were they nurses?
“Is your pain under control?”
“This IV has started to infiltrate. We’re going to insert a new one in your other arm, okay? You’ll feel a little prick.”
“If you don’t stop thrashing, we’re going to have to sedate you!”
He was in the hospital, but he had no idea why. He couldn’t speak, could barely open his eyes. He drifted in and out, lost somewhere between oblivion and a world of clashing sounds and bright, blazing lights.
And then there were other voices, men’s voices.
“I’m Chief Deputy U.S. Marshal Zach MacBride, and I need to ask you a few questions about the shooting that put you in this bed. Can you understand me?”
So Derek had been shot. That explained a few things. It must have been bad for him to be in this kind of shape.
He nodded.
“Can you write your name for us?”
He felt a pencil in his hand. He spelled it out—
D-E-R-E-K.
He opened his eyes, men’s faces swimming in and out of focus. He thought he recognized them, but he couldn’t remember.
“Can you remember who shot you?”
So he had been shot. Yes, he’d been shot. They’d just told him that.
What was the last thing he remembered before this place?
He’d been waiting. Yes, he’d been waiting in his car. He’d been waiting for someone . . . He’d waited for a long time. He’d had to get there early because he’d wanted to be in position in case anyone showed up.
“Mr. Tower, can you remember who shot you? It’s very important that you try.”
Images slid through his mind. A parking garage. The sky. A building down below. The weapon in his hand.
“Why were you at the parking garage, Mr. Tower?”
A parking garage. Yes, he’d been at a parking garage. He’d been waiting.
“He’s completely out of it. We’re not going to get a damned thing from him.”
“We’ve got to try. In a few minutes, they’re going to send us away. Try to remember, Tower. Remember who shot you, and spell his name.”
Spell his name?
D-E-R-E-K.
“Hey, Tower.” This one sounded angry. “Who tried to kill Laura Nilsson?”
Laura Nilsson.
He felt a spark of adrenaline, his eyes coming open.
The little bitch had refused to meet with him. He’d needed to speak with her about her abduction, to find out whom she’d had contact with in the weeks prior. But she’d gotten a restraining order. She’d thought he was trying to kill her, but it wasn’t him. He needed her. He needed her alive, and so he’d gone to the parking garage.
One second it seemed to make sense, and the next . . .
A man with short, dark hair and angry brown eyes was leaning over him, his hand giving Derek’s an impatient squeeze. “Who tried to kill Laura Nilsson? Spell his name. That same person shot you, man.”
But Derek didn’t know the shooter’s name. He couldn’t even remember his face. So he spelled the first thing that came into his mind.
F-U-C-K Y-O-U.
CHAPTER
26
LAURA KNEW THINGS hadn’t gone well with Derek the moment she saw Javier’s face. “He wouldn’t tell you anything.”
Javier shook his head. “Either he’s still too out of it, or he doesn’t want to cooperate. He managed to write his own name twice and then spelled
fuck you
.”
The little bubble of hope that Laura had carried inside her since Zach’s call popped. She wanted so much for this to be over. By answering their questions, Tower could have made that happen. “Maybe he’ll be more alert tomorrow.”
“Yeah. Maybe.” Javier tossed his jacket onto the chair and drew her into his arms. “Come here. I think it’s bedtime.”
She glanced at the clock and saw it was nine. “It’s too early for me to go to sleep.”
He lowered his voice. “Oh,
bella
, who said anything about sleep? Now, where did we leave off?”
All it took was one look from him, and her blood began to heat. “I think we were at twelve.”
“That’s right. A dirty dozen. Now for lucky thirteen.” He grinned, planted a kiss on her mouth. “Follow me.”
Soon the two of them were sharing a tub filled with steaming hot water. He reached for her shaving gel and her razor.
Her pulse spiked. “What do you think you’re doing with those?”
“Just watch.” He filled his palm with lather, then rose to his knees and began to shave himself, slowly and carefully removing the hair around the base of his penis and on his testicles, leaving himself smooth.
Laura watched, both fascinated and more than a little aroused. She’d never watched this process before, never had a lover who’d gone all the way with manscaping, never watched a man handle himself so casually. And it turned her on.
He rinsed the foamy gel away to reveal his half-hard cock. She never would have asked him or any other man to do this, but now that he had, she kind of liked it. Somehow it made him seem . . . bigger. The skin of his pubic area and testicles was darker than the rest of his body, the sight of his bare package deeply erotic.
He tossed the razor cartridge and put on a new one. “Now I’m going to take care of you.”
“Me?” Her belly clenched.
He had her stand with first one leg raised on the side of the tub and then the other, his shaving her becoming an act of foreplay. The stroke of the razor over sensitive skin. The pressure of his fingers as he held her skin taut. Hot water as he rinsed her again and again. And what he was saying to her . . .
“I want to taste you so bad. I want to bury my tongue inside you.”
She barely had the patience to wait for him to finish, but standing as she was, her balance precarious, his hands between her thighs with a razor, his face so close she felt the heat of his breath on her inner thighs, all she could do was hold on.
When he’d rinsed her one last time, he scooped her into his arms, his mouth coming down on hers as he carried her to her bed in long, fast strides. He tossed her onto the mattress, grabbed her ankles, and dragged her toward him until her hips cleared the edge of the bed, forcing her legs apart. And then his mouth was on her.
“Oh,
yes
!”
This
was the Javier she remembered.
She dug her fingers into his hair, so aroused by these exquisite new sensations that she found herself already hovering on the edge. Bare like this, every inch of her vulva was available for him to lick and nip and taste. He drew her glossy pink labia into the scorching heat of his mouth, tugged and sucked on her aching clit, teased her entrance with the tip of his tongue until she thought she would come apart. And then she shattered, orgasm singing through her, leaving her breathless and trembling.
She felt the mattress shift as Javier stretched out beside her. She opened her eyes, smiled at him, then rolled onto him and slid down his body and off the bed, coming to rest on her knees on the floor. “I want to make you feel good—just as good as you made me feel.”
He sat up, his erect cock bobbing as he shifted, his gaze locked with hers. He reached out, traced a finger down her cheek. “Oh, I know you will.”
Without breaking eye contact, she licked him a few times, base to swollen tip, and heard his breath leave him in a slow exhale. Certain his newly shaved skin would be just as sensitive as hers, she lowered her mouth to the root of his cock, kissing and licking him there. He stiffened, his body jerking when her tongue slid over the bare skin of his testicles, his reaction encouraging her. She took them into her mouth one at a time, teasing their underside with her tongue, feeling them draw tight.
Javier’s breath caught, his fingers sliding into her hair.
She sat up taller and went to work on him with her tongue, circling the engorged head, flicking its satiny tip, her fingers encircling him, stroking him lazily. But he was just as impatient as she had been. She followed his cues, sliding her mouth and hand as one up and down the length of him, moving faster, increasing the pressure, and bringing him to a quick finish in her hand, his hips jerking off the bed as he came.
He fell back onto his pillow, his chest heaving, his fingers still tangled in her hair. And there he lay, spent.
Laura wiped off her hand, then handed him the box of tissues, gratified to see that she’d managed to exhaust him the way he so often exhausted her. There was nothing quite like a sex coma. She was about to lie down beside him when her cell phone rang.
Erik.
The home visit.
She ran to the living room where she’d left her phone, answering on the fourth ring, questions darting through her mind. Had they been able to get Klara’s DNA? Had Klara seemed healthy and well fed? Had they been able to vaccinate her?
“This is Laura.”
“Hi, Laura. Yesterday was the day of the scheduled home visit.”
“How was it? What happened?”
“A consular official and one of our doctors went with two Pakistani officials to the home.” Erik paused. “And they were gone. They had disappeared—the whole extended family. The house was empty.”
“What?”
Laura’s heart began to pound, her pulse beating against her eardrums.
“I’m sorry, Laura, but they have vanished. Their neighbors say they haven’t seen them for a few days, and no one knows where they’ve gone. They must have left immediately after our last contact.”
“Can’t the police find them and detain them? They can’t just vanish.”
“You know what it’s like there. It took us more than two years to find them when they were in Islamabad. If they’ve fled to the countryside or crossed into Afghanistan, we might not be able to locate them again.”
“No.” Laura shook her head, panic making her nauseated. “No, that can’t be. I can’t lose her, Erik. I can’t lose her.”
“I’m very sorry, Laura. I know how much this meant to you. You must be devastated. But she is missing, and we don’t have any idea where they took her.”
This couldn’t be happening. It could
not
be happening.
Laura fought to hold herself together. “I understand. Thank you for all you’ve done.”
“We will start searching at once, of course. We have already filed a complaint with the Pakistani government and are demanding action.”
“Thank you.”
“I told you at the beginning this would be a very hard fight. It seems it will continue to be a fight for some time to come. Good night, Laura.”
Laura disconnected the call and slid slowly to the floor.
* * *
WEARING A PAIR of flannel pajama bottoms, Javier stood in the bedroom door watching. He hadn’t understood a word Laura had said, but he knew the call hadn’t brought good news. He went to her where she sat huddled naked on the floor, took a throw off the couch, and wrapped it around her bare shoulders, reaching over to turn on the fireplace so she wouldn’t get cold.
She looked up at him, tears welling in her eyes, the panic on her face echoing the expression she’d had the night he’d rescued her. “They took my little girl. They disappeared. No one knows where they went or where she is.”
¡Puñeta! Fuck! Son of a bitch!
The news hit Javier with the force of a bullet. He wanted to hit something, wanted to rip Al-Nassar’s balls off, wanted to kill. What kind of stupid, dick-faced, baby-raping, jihadist piece of shit would kidnap an innocent newborn and do everything possible to keep her from her mother?
Heart thrumming, he drew a couple of deep breaths, fighting to get his shit under control so he could be there for Laura. He drew her onto the couch beside him and held her. “I’m so sorry,
bella
.”
“They have to find her. If they don’t . . .” She squeezed her eyes shut and pulled away from him. “This is my fault. If I had been stronger . . . If I’d believed what I knew in my heart, that Klara was mine . . . If I’d taken her from Safiya when I’d run or told the SEALs about her . . . But I didn’t. She’s two years old, and she’s lived every one of those days as a captive.”
“Laura, you
can’t
blame yourself for this.”
But she wasn’t listening.
She stood and took a step toward the fire. “If they don’t find her and bring her back, she might never learn to read. She might spend years of her life hungry. She could get polio or tetanus. I’ve seen little girls married off to men in their thirties and forties when they were only nine years old.
Oh, God!
”
Javier had spent enough time in Pakistan and Afghanistan to know that Laura’s fears for her child were real. Disease and hunger were a part of life for too many people there. Little girls faced the added burden of child marriage, too many of them forced to have children with men they didn’t love when they themselves were still children. The thought of Laura’s child enduring any of this made him sick.
But he couldn’t let Laura take the blame for this on her shoulders.
He rose, caught her face between his palms, and forced her to meet his gaze, knowing she was on the brink of true panic. “Listen to me. This is
not
your fault.”
“I left her, Javier. I turned my back on her, and I left her—my own baby!”
“They took her from you the moment she was born. You never got to hold her. They did their best to brainwash you into believing she wasn’t yours. You didn’t even remember you’d had a baby until later. They’re to blame for this, not you.”
She shook her head. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”
He switched tactics. “Okay, fine. It’s your fault—all of it. Why don’t you explain to me what you should’ve done better?”
She gaped at him for a moment, and then her face crumbled. “I should have realized I was having a baby. I shouldn’t have let them take her from me.”
“I’m betting that having a baby hurts a helluva lot, but if you’d have been stronger, maybe you could have fought the two of them off between contractions or some shit, right? Or if you weren’t able to do that, you could have at least dug deep, toughed out the hemorrhaging, and gone after her.”
Laura glared at him. “When you say it like that—”
“Hey, I’m just speaking the truth here. So tell me, what else should you have done? Out with it. I want to hear.”
She turned her gaze away from him. “I should have taken Klara when I ran. If I had just pulled her from Safiya’s arms—”
“You think that crazy bitch who tried to stab you might have noticed a move like that? Do you think Al-Nassar’s other wives might have noticed? You said they were holding you back, that they left bruises on your arms trying to control you. Could be they’d have slit your throat right there or slipped that knife between your ribs. Could be they’d have fought you and torn that little baby girl to pieces.”
She glared at him. “At the very least, I could have told the tall SEAL, the one who carried me onto the chopper, that I had a baby. I could have remembered her and asked for his help. The women were so afraid of the operators that they’d have done whatever he said.”
Javier nodded. “Well, there is that. Why didn’t you tell him?”
“Because . . .” Her gaze dropped to the floor. “Because I didn’t remember. I . . . I just knew I had to go with them if I wanted to live.”
“You barely remembered your own name.” He didn’t see why she couldn’t understand. “How could you have remembered a baby you’d never held, a baby they wouldn’t let you believe was yours? Maybe it’s easier for you to blame yourself than to admit how badly they’d brutalized you and how helpless you truly were.”
Her gaze snapped back to his. “How can you say that?”
Javier saw the despair and self-loathing in her eyes—and he made a decision. “Because I was there, Laura. I saw what happened. I was in command of the squad that hit Al-Nassar’s compound. I’m the one who carried you out of there.”
Her face went pale, her eyes wide as she gaped at him.
“You?”
“I just violated my orders by telling you this, so don’t repeat it, understand? That mission is still classified.”
“You were the tall SEAL?”
“Yeah.” Now at least he wouldn’t have to compete with himself.
She shook her head. “That couldn’t have been you. I watched him. I listened to him. I would have recognized your voice.”
“That
was
me, Laura. I was there. You shouted out, ‘I’m an American, too.’ Ross warned me one of the women was running up behind me. I turned, told you to get down, but you were already on your knees. I saw the other one running toward you, saw the knife in her hand, and I killed her. Then I ripped that burka off you and saw your face. I couldn’t believe it was you.” Javier’s throat went tight, a surge of emotion taking him. He tucked a strand of white-blond hair behind her ear. “You were
alive
.”
She sank to the couch, her gaze locked with his. “That was really you?”
“Yeah.” Some part of him had wanted to tell her that for a very long time. He sat beside her. “When I learned a SEAL team was being tasked with taking down Al-Nassar, I did everything I could to get our guns into that fight. I wanted to be the one to catch the
pendejo
who’d killed you. Our mission was to bring him back alive if we could, and I was hoping that motherfucker would do something, anything, that would justify my putting a bullet through his skull.”
Javier stopped himself, pretty sure she didn’t need to hear any of that. “I’m telling you this, because I saw how it was. I know what happened that night. It’s clear as crystal in my mind. Do you want to know what I saw?”
She didn’t answer, still watching him through wide eyes.
“I saw a woman run from people who had tried their best to break her. I saw the bruises. I saw how weak she was—pale, thin, terrified. She mustered all the courage she had and did what few hostages dare to do. She ran.”
She seemed to consider this, her gaze dropping to the floor again. But there was grief on her face now, not self-loathing, not blame. “I didn’t mean to leave her. I didn’t mean to forget her.”
“I know you didn’t.” He took her hand, stroked her knuckles with his thumb. “I’ve thought about this a lot since you told me about Klara. Here’s what I think would have happened if you
had
remembered. I’d have grabbed a few men and gone after Klara, and those combatants with their RPGs would have blown us to bits. They barely missed as it was. Another minute or two and they’d have had us.”
He caught her chin and lifted her gaze to his. “Do you hear what I’m telling you,
bella
? There wasn’t time for me to go after Klara. We barely got out of there alive.”
She looked into his eyes, and he could almost feel the struggle going on inside her. “I feel like I remember that night so well. It was as if the world became color again instead of just black and white, and yet, when I hear you talk, I realize I’m only remembering small pieces of it.”
“Then listen to me,
bella
. See yourself through my eyes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me it was you? Why didn’t you visit me at the hospital?”
“I couldn’t. Operational security. I spent two days after the mission being debriefed and getting the materials we confiscated into the right hands. Besides, I wasn’t sure you’d recognize me. I didn’t want to make things harder for you.”
Her lips curved in a sad smile, and she gave a little laugh.
“What?”
“Thanks for saving my life—and for punching Al-Nassar in the face. That’s one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me.”
“I wish I’d killed him.” It was the truth.
“I wish I’d known it was you.”
“You were never supposed to find out.”
“I won’t tell anyone. No one at NSW will know.”
“No worries. I trust you.” Javier didn’t say it because he knew it would upset Laura, but NSW
would
find out. He would tell them himself. Not right away, of course, or they’d drag his ass back to Coronado. Unless they asked him point-blank, he’d wait till he was back in California. He respected his uniform too much to mislead or lie to his superiors. It was a matter of honor.
Do you hear that,
cabrón
? It’s the sound of your career circling the drain.
Maybe so. But he didn’t regret what he’d just done. Laura had suffered enough. He couldn’t let her waste years of her life blaming herself.
Laura smiled, laughed, ran her fingertips along his jaw.
He caught her hand and kissed it. “What?”
She looked into his eyes, still smiling. “I was just thinking how lucky I am. The man I’ve held in my heart as my hero for the past two years, the man I’ve prayed for every night—he turned out to be the man I love.”
Javier thought his heart would punch a hole in his chest. Had she just said what he thought she’d said?
¡Ea Diablo!
Sweet adrenaline sang through him, took the breath from his lungs as he looked at her tearstained face, the love he felt for her shining back at him in her perfect eyes.
He did the only thing he could.
He kissed her.
CHAPTER
27
LAURA DRANK JAVIER in, the warmth of his lips dispelling the tangle of grief and rage inside her, sexual need so recently satisfied flaring to life again.
She loved him. God, she loved him.
She’d told him, and she’d seen love on his face.
Javier. Her hero.
He’d come into her life, turning her world upside down in a single weekend, showing her a kind of passion she’d found with no other man. But it had been more than a physical connection even then. She’d never felt that close to another soul. He’d reached a place inside her no other man had touched.
Why hadn’t she recognized it for the miracle it was in Dubai?
How arrogant she’d been, so sure of herself, so certain she knew the path her life would take. She’d thought she had all the time in the world. She’d been wrong. She’d come close to losing everything—the past, the future, her identity.
But that didn’t matter any longer because she was alive and free. Because of him, she was alive and free. And they were together again.
She let her lips go pliant, wanting him to take control, wanting to feel the raw side of him, the side of him ruled by instincts. She didn’t need to be afraid—not any longer. She knew this man, knew where he could take her if they both let go.
He slanted his mouth over hers, his tongue teasing hers, his fingers in her hair. But still he held back.
How could she let him know she was ready for more?
Without breaking the kiss, she let the throw fall from her shoulders and straddled his thighs, her hands grasping the waistband of his pajama bottoms and giving them a rough yank.
He took his lips from hers, a questioning look in his eyes as he reached down to shuck the pajama bottoms, kicking them off his feet.
And then they were both naked.
Laura raked her nails down his chest, scraping gently. “I don’t want to be afraid anymore. I don’t want to hide from this. I want this to be what it should be.”
He traced a finger down the valley between her breasts. “There is no ‘should,’
bella
. There are no expectations or rules for us to follow. All that matters is what we feel, what we want—your desire and mine.”
She felt a hitch in her chest, that precious flame of love she felt for him growing brighter. “What I want is you—all of you.”
His eyes went dark, a muscle clenching in his cheek.
And she knew he understood.
Still looking into his eyes, she leaned forward and brushed his lips with hers, traced their outline with her tongue, needing him, wanting him. He accommodated her kiss with his own gentle response, but that wasn’t what she wanted. She kissed him harder, brushing her nipples against his chest, grinding herself against his erection. His response rose to match hers, but it wasn’t enough. Frustrated, she dug her nails into his shoulder and gave him a little shake, biting gently down on his lower lip, trying to provoke him. His body tensed, all that muscle going taut.
And she felt his restraint break.
In a heartbeat, he took control from her, claiming her mouth in a fierce kiss, his tongue dominating hers, strong arms crushing her against him.
Oh, God, yes!
She let herself go, desires she’d thought she’d never feel again exploding to life inside her. She dug her nails deeper into his skin, challenging him with her own response, resisting him, forcing him to use his strength, the masculine power of his body delighting some hidden part of her until she had no choice but to yield.
* * *
JAVIER GAVE IN to the animal in his chest, his need for Laura driving every other thought from his mind. She was back. His Laura, his sweet
bella
, was back.
He wanted to taste nothing unless it was the sweetness of her mouth, the musk of her arousal, the salt of her tears, wanted to touch nothing unless it was the silk of her hair, her soft curves, wanted to breathe nothing unless it had come from her lungs.
Her nails dug into his skin, ten precious points of pain, her body trembling and pliant in his arms, her vulva slick and hot against his cock. And he knew neither of them wanted to wait. They’d already waited so long.
He caught her weight with his arms and stood, her legs locking around his waist, putting pressure on his stitches. But he didn’t care. His first thought was to take her on the floor in front of the fire. But Al-Nassar had raped her on the floor. He didn’t want to dredge up those memories.
Not the floor.
His mouth still on hers, he crossed the room to the dining room table. But the vase of roses he’d given her sat at its center.
Not the table.
He carried her toward the bedroom, but the bedroom was too damned far away, her tongue clashing with his, the little motions she was making with her hips driving him crazy. He turned and pressed her back into the wall, shifting his hips so that the head of his cock nudged against her entrance.
Wanting to be certain, he dragged his mouth from hers, somehow managing to speak. “Is this what you want,
bella
?”
“Yes!”
And with a single slow thrust he was home.
She gasped, her eyes drifting shut on a moan. She was so wet, her body taking all of him and gripping him tight. He tested her response with a few deep, slow thrusts, saw only pleasure on her face, her inner muscles tightening around him. And then his body took over, his hips thrusting hard and fast, the sheer bliss of it blowing his mind. His mouth sought and claimed hers again, catching her little moans and sighs, her arms wrapped tight around his neck, her thighs clamped like a vise around his waist.
He had imagined this moment a thousand times, but he hadn’t envisioned it like this. He’d imagined tender kisses and caresses, taking her with gentleness and finesse, not fucking her up against a wall. But then sex with Laura had never been what he’d imagined it would be, the chemistry between them volatile.
He’d hoped that coming earlier would have taken the edge off, made it easier for him to last, but he was dick-deep in paradise, his male anatomy threatening to betray him. He was already on the edge, his balls drawing tight against his body, the shimmering tension in his groin growing brighter with each thrust. He fought to relax his ass muscles, shifting his stance and his hold on her hips so that every thrust made the root of his cock graze her swollen clit.
Her head fell to the side, her lips parted, her breath coming in pants as he kept up the rhythm. He lowered his mouth to her throat, biting and nipping the sensitive skin above her pulse, the mingled scents of his sweat and her arousal filling his head.
She gasped, her body going tense, her inner muscles drawing tighter around him, and he knew she was moments away from orgasm. He tried to hold on, thrusting harder, faster, willing to go to the edge for her, his sweet Laura, his
bella preciosa
.
She came with a cry, ecstasy on her beautiful face, her inner muscles clenching hard around him. And he surrendered, climax overtaking him in a liquid rush, carrying him over the edge and into heaven.
* * *
LAURA AND JAVIER held fast to each other, their bodies slick with sweat, as he carried her to the bed. Javier got his guitar and, still naked, played for her, singing romantic love songs to her in Spanish, his voice deep and smooth. Then, contented and replete, they kissed each other to sleep.
* * *
LAURA JERKED AWAKE.
Just a nightmare.
It was the same nightmare she always had. Only this time it had been different. She hadn’t been alone. Javier had been there. When Zainab had tried to take Klara from her, he’d shot her. But when Laura had reached for her newborn baby, the blanket had been empty.
She glanced down at Javier and watched as he stirred, reaching for her in his sleep, his dark lashes resting against his cheeks. He was such a beautiful man, such an incredibly brave man, the most courageous man she knew.
It still hadn’t sunk in. Javier was the nameless, faceless warrior she’d always thought of as the tall SEAL, the man who had saved her life. She looked back and tried to see beyond the night vision optics, the weapons, and the face camo to recognize the man she knew, but couldn’t, her memories colored by confusion, terror, adrenaline. He’d seemed larger than life that night, invincible, he and his men the only force in this world capable of bringing her tormenters down.
She thought through what he’d told her about that night, his perception so different from her own. She’d blamed herself for so long for the fact that Klara was still in the hands of terrorists that she didn’t know any other way of thinking. But listening to him run through the different scenarios of what might have happened—Zainab stabbing her the moment she tried to take Klara . . . the women fighting her for the baby, hurting or maybe even killing her little girl . . . the RPGs blowing the chopper to bits—she’d realized he was seeing things more clearly than she had.
And a dark weight she’d carried for so long seemed to lessen.
She glanced at her clock and saw that it was just after five in the morning. Knowing she wouldn’t be able to sleep, she crept out of bed, slipped into her bathrobe, and made her way to her office, where she sent a quick message to her mother letting her know she needed to talk about something important. She logged on to Skype and waited, popping in her earbuds to keep the conversation from waking Javier.
