Hot Rebel (29 page)

He squeezed her arm with his good hand. “Hang in there, babe. Might… work out.” He sucked in a deep breath, let it out with a groan. “You did… good. Brave girl.”

She decided not to tell him she’d have done better if Zaran had gotten closer. In his condition, he didn’t need to worry about her more than he already was. “You heard him?”

“Yeah. Thought it… best if… didn’t look lively.”

“Good idea. He’s demented.” She lifted his hand to her lips and pressed her mouth to his skin. Definitely hotter than he should be. “We’ll probably need a miracle to get out of here.”

His eyes glinted. “Could happen.”
 

She searched his gaze—and then it dawned on her that he expected his guys—the Hostile Operations Team—to rescue them. He fully expected them to ride in like knights on white stallions and extract them from the craziness that was Zaran bin Yusuf’s world.

And for the first time, hope blossomed in her soul.

“How…? They took our phones.”

“Backup plan. Tracking device… sewn in pants pocket.”

“I think I love these guys you work for.”

He gave her a grin before taking a deep breath and closing his eyes again. His breathing was even, but she still feared for him. But now she hoped too. Hoped like hell that the reputation of HOT was well deserved and not just myth. She’d do what she had to do to protect them both, but it would be so much easier if the white knights would show up.

“I’ll love them forever if they pull this off,” she said softly. “But I think I’ll love you more.”

*
 
*
 
*

Victoria sat on the chair where she’d pulled it over next to the mattress. She watched the door, and she watched Nick, reaching out to push his damp hair off his face when he moved. She didn’t know how long she’d been sitting there before she thought she heard a woman’s voice. She stood and went over to the door, listening hard, her hands on the cords. A key turned in the lock and the door pushed inward.

Victoria waited, ready to spring as soon as someone walked in. But it wasn’t a man.

A woman in a full burka stepped through the entry, and Victoria took a step back. The woman turned toward her, pushing her veil aside.
 

“Emily!”

They rushed into each other’s arms. Victoria squeezed her baby sister tight. Emily squeezed back just as hard.
 

“When I heard there was an American woman who’d been captured with a big rifle, I knew I had to try to see her. And it’s you! I knew it would be!”

Victoria wiped her sister’s tears from her face with her thumbs. “Sweetie, I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, Victoria.”

Victoria glanced at the door and realized a man stood there silently. Her heart dropped, but it wasn’t bin Yusuf. “How did you get Zaran to let you come?”

Emily snorted. “He didn’t. I lied to Ahmed. Don’t worry, he doesn’t understand English.” She bit her lip. “I feel bad. He’s a good bodyguard, and Zaran will be furious. But I
had
to see you.”

Victoria hugged her again. “Oh, Emily, it’s good to see you.”

Emily’s eyes roved over her. “What happened to your shirt? Did someone hurt you?”

“No. I needed it for my partner.”

Emily hugged her again, and that’s when she realized there was something hard lying against Emily’s belly. Victoria started.
 

But Em held her tight and whispered in her ear. “I’ve brought you a pistol. It’s the best I could do. I know what he intends to do, and I’m not going to let him do it. Reach inside while my back is turned and take it. Ahmed won’t know.”

Victoria did as her sister told her, shoving the pistol into the back of her pants once she’d retrieved it. It all happened fast, and then Emily stepped away and they stood looking at each other for a long moment. Ahmed looked bored.

“Who’s he?” Em said, tipping her chin at Nick.
 

His eyes were open this time, and he was watching them. Once again, Victoria’s heart thumped at this sign he was still alive. Who was he? So much she could say to that, but she could hardly voice it. So she told the simple truth.

“His name is Nick. He’s my partner. Em, he’s hurt. Can you get a doctor? Or get some first-aid supplies for me—bandages, alcohol, painkillers?”

Emily frowned. “I’ll try.”
 

She turned to Ahmed and spoke in fluent Arabic. The man shook his head sharply. Emily spoke again, and Victoria recognized the wheedling tone her sister had often used with her. Ahmed’s expression grew stony, and then it grew soft. Finally, he ducked his head out the door and called to someone.
 

A few minutes later, a man brought a first-aid kit and some water. And a button-down shirt that had probably once been white. Ahmed handed everything to Emily, who promptly handed it to Victoria. Gratefulness rushed through her as she slipped on the shirt. It was dusty and smelled a bit like a camel, but it was something. Not only was she no longer naked, but she was also able to cover the gun at the back of her waistband.

“Thank you, Em.”

“It’s the least I could do.” She huffed in a breath. “My God, the shit you’ve had to put up with because of me. I’m so sorry. I should have listened to you.”

“We all make mistakes, Em. I still love you, no matter what.”
 

Victoria hurried over to Nick’s side. She used the scissors in the kit to cut Nick’s T-shirt open. The blood on the shirt was sticky, but it pulled away easily enough. She gave him two ibuprofens and a sip of water, then she removed the field dressing and cleaned the wound with alcohol while Nick grimaced. He was definitely feverish, but he was holding on to consciousness.

“I’m sorry, Preacher Boy,” she whispered.
 

He nodded.

She tended the wound as tenderly as she could. He’d lost blood and she had no idea if there were fragments in the wound, but she couldn’t take the risk of probing around in there right now and making him bleed anew. She had to hope his guys got here soon and could take care of him properly.

“Is he going to be all right?” Emily asked, her voice small.

“Yes,” Victoria said, because she couldn’t contemplate otherwise.

“Zaran should have given you these things. It was cruel of him not to.”

Victoria didn’t want to comment on that statement. “Are you okay, Em? Has he ever hurt you?”
 

“Sometimes,” she said softly. “But we’re going to get away from him, Victoria. You and me. Somehow.”

Victoria turned to look at her. “Oh, honey. I hope we do get out of here. But I can’t guarantee anything.”

Ahmed said something to Emily. Her expression fell. Victoria hated that look on her sister’s face. It was the look of a girl who’d been searching for something her entire life and had never yet found it. A girl who trusted too easily and fell too far when that trust was broken.

“I have to go.”

Victoria stood and hugged her again. Her sister was so small and frail that it broke her heart.
 

“This isn’t the end, Victoria. I swear it’s not.”

Victoria felt the solid weight of the gun at her back and hoped her sister was right.
 

“No, I don’t think it is either.” She kissed Emily’s cheek, unable to contemplate that she might never see her sister again. She
refused
to contemplate that this was good-bye.

HOT was coming, and they would get out of here. She had to believe it.

Emily walked out the door and Ahmed started to swing it shut. But raised voices sounded nearby and the door swung back open. Zaran bin Yusuf strode into the room, Emily tugging his arm and pleading with him both in Arabic and English.

He stood silently and bore it while he glared at the scene—and then he backhanded her and she fell to the floor.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

It was a HALO jump into nowhere and then an ass-busting hump across the desert before they crested a dune and saw the cluster of buildings down below. There were five trucks pulled up near the compound and a group of men milling around a fire. Occasionally, someone popped off a few shots on a Russian-made rifle, and laughter burst into the night.

Drinking, probably, though alcohol was forbidden in Qu’rim. Never stopped anyone before. Garrett’s great-granddaddy had been a moonshine runner back in the day, and his family had proudly provided liquor to anyone with the money and guts to purchase it during Prohibition.

Not that you’d better say that to his mama, because Mary Beth Wright-Spencer made her living teaching the children of Paris, Georgia, how to be proper young gentlemen and young ladies. The suggestion that her family had ever been anything less than proper was not one she appreciated.

Garrett’s comm link crackled. “Brandy’s still in the third building, west corner, at the back.”

It was Billy the Kid talking.
 

“Copy,” came Big Mac’s answer.

Richie spoke next. “Dex and Hawk will provide cover fire. Ice and Knight Rider, go get our boy. The rest of us will take care of business on the exterior. If Victoria Royal isn’t with him, we’ll do a search of the other buildings. Copy?”

“Copy.”

“Let’s roll. No one left behind.”

“Fucking A,” someone said.

They flew down the dune like an approaching storm and broke over the compound with all the firepower and fury they were capable of—which was a fucking lot.
 

Brandy was coming home alive.

*
 
*
 
*

“Don’t,” Nick said softly, forcing the word from his dry throat as Victoria started to reach behind her for the gun her sister had given her.

He’d been saving his strength as much as possible for the moment when HOT would arrive. But now Victoria’s sister was begging for their lives, Zaran bin Yusuf was furious, and Victoria wanted to kill him for hitting Emily.

He understood it. He wanted to kill the asshole too. But they didn’t have the advantage. Even if she got off a shot, there were too many men in this compound. They’d burst into this room and kill the two of them—maybe the three of them, since Nick was certain Victoria would take out bin Yusuf at the minimum and no one else would give a shit about Emily’s life if that happened.

Maybe it was worth it to Victoria. It wasn’t to him. Any scenario in which she didn’t live was not a scenario he cared to contemplate. No, it fucking terrified him to think of her dying out here.

She stilled, facing bin Yusuf with her fists clenched at her side. Emily pushed herself up, clutching her cheek with both hands. Her eyes were filled with hatred when she looked at her husband.

“I told you to stay in our room,” he bit out. “To wait for me to return.”

“You tried to keep my sister from me,” she cried. “How could you do that? I hate you!”

Jesus, that was not what they needed right now. A fucking domestic. Bin Yusuf looked utterly furious.

“She is a bad influence on you,
habibti.
She does not care about you the way I do.”

Emily’s face was red and tears streamed down her cheeks. “You lie, Zaran! You always lie. I want to go home. I want to have a normal life again.”

“Normal? What is normal? Where you lie in a gutter and shoot poison into your veins? Where you drink so much you pass out and don’t know your own name? Who saved you from that, Emily? Who cared enough to lift you up and make you whole again?”

The whole time he spoke, he walked toward her until he could pull her against his side and press her head to his chest. She fought, but he was stronger—and determined to win this battle. The man had a savior complex. No doubt he’d helped Emily get clean, but hitting her and manipulating her were not in the least bit loving or caring. He wanted to control Emily, nothing more. Nick recognized the signs because it was exactly the way his father behaved.

But Emily did not want to be controlled. She screamed and cried and tried to shove him away, but his grip on her tightened.

Victoria’s knuckles were white as she struggled not to act.
 

“I will put an end to this,” bin Yusuf muttered. Then he reached for his gun.

But Victoria was faster. She had her gun pointed at him before he’d finished raising his. Still, her sister was plastered to his side and she hesitated, which gave him the second he needed.

An evil smile curled bin Yusuf’s lips as he slewed his own weapon toward Nick.

“Drop it or I will kill him.”

“Not if I kill you first.”

He pulled Emily in front of his body. “Go ahead. Will you risk your sister’s life?”

Emily was sobbing and squirming, which meant she was in danger if Victoria fired. And Victoria knew it.
 

Still, she didn’t lower the gun. A surge of emotion flowed through Nick at her determination to protect him. He should be the one protecting her, for fuck’s sake, not the other way around.
 

But he knew she didn’t need him to do so. She was a beautiful, lethal killer in her own right. She’d survived out here for two years, working for Black and methodically taking out the targets he gave her. Victoria was a force to be reckoned with.