Page 71 of Protecting You

Callan was fighting her, but she was trained. And he was injured.

Alyssa had no breath, no energy to fight.

Suddenly, something dove over her. A blur that took both Callan and the woman out. Another guard. They were overpowered. Overcome.

She levered to her hands and knees, tried to get to her feet, amazed when nobody stopped her.

She was turning, hoping she’d be able to help Callan as she had before, when an arm hooked beneath her armpits.

A scream crawled up her throat, but a hand clamped over her mouth.

“I’m a friend.” The man’s voice was deep and unfamiliar. “Come on.”

What? Who in the world…?

“Where’s Callan?” She spoke through heaving breaths.

“Right here, Paris.” He took her other hand, and together, the three of them ran.

They’d gone too far before she remembered… “The bag!”

“I got it,” the stranger said. “Hurry.”

They scrambled over the rock wall, bolted across a backyard that held a swing set and a toddler slide.

Children inside, terrorists out.

She ran around the side of the house, still flanked by Callan and the unknown man. And then they were on the street and aiming for a sedan.

Callan scrambled into the backseat. “Hurry!”

She climbed in the front and slammed the door.

The other man settled into the driver’s seat and hit the gas. She studied him in the low dashboard lights. He was black, clean-shaven, with close-cropped hair. A few wrinkles fanned from his eyes. He gripped the wheel with pale knuckles.

She turned to peer behind, where guards streamed out from beside the two-story suburban colonial, watching them drive away.

They were free, for now.

How she wished she could believe this was over. But she knew better.

Dariush Ghazi had given her a glimpse of his plans. And he wasn’t about to let her go.

CHAPTEREIGHTEEN

What could Callan have done differently?

He replayed the events on a continual loop and came up with nothing, but there had to have been a way out. He should’ve anticipated the lights. He should’ve known they’d be caught, should’ve planned better.

If not for Malcolm, Alyssa would be back in Dariush’s custody.

If not for Alyssa, Callan would be dead.

He squeezed his eyes closed. He wasn’t afraid to die, but he had a child now. He’d left field work to care for her. And then he’d dived right back in at the first opportunity.

Idiot.Idiot!

He’d messed everything up, but he couldn’t figure out what he should’ve done differently. Left Alyssa to fend for herself?

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