Page 38 of Zain

“A friend.” He gave her a knowing look.

Maxine answered on the third ring. He’d called her private line. “I’m glad to see you’re still alive,” she said.

“Barely,” he ground out. “We’re in a predicament and I need your help.” He quickly gave her a diluted version of what’d happened and explained that they might need some grease to get through security.

“I’ll see what I can do. How long until you get there?”

“Fifteen, twenty minutes.”

She made a sound. “I can’t promise anything, but I’ll try.”

“Thanks.” He just hoped she cared enough to make the fucking call a priority. They couldn’t miss their plane.

Fifteen minutes later, they pulled up to the airport. Cars and trucks lined the parking lot, and Zain found a spot not too far from the doors.

Dana got out and wobbled on her feet. Zain gripped her bicep and held her in place before shecould walk off. “I need to know if you’re hurt. Tell me what’s going on.”

She closed her eyes. It seemed any head movement was unbearable. “I hurt. Everywhere. But I think it’s just the shock wearing off. I don’t suspect anything serious.”

He slid his hand under her jaw and examined her eyes. “Nausea?”

“Yes.”

“Headache?”

“Mmm.”

“Ringing in your ears?”

She bobbed her head half an inch then winced.

He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, doused it in water from one of Ali’s bottles, and wiped the blood from her temple. “You should clean up too,” he said to Brick, who was standing mindlessly next to them. Although the guy wasn’t bleeding, he was sweating profusely and appeared rougher than he should.

“Good call.” He took out a shirt, poured water on the material, and washed his face.

When Zain had the blood cleaned from Dana and she no longer looked suspicious, he worked on himself. After changing his shirt, bandaging the cut on his eyebrow, and washing his face, they could pass for people who’d been traveling too long and were in desperate need of showers.

“If you feel faint, let me know,” he told Dana, as he offered his arm for support.

She greedily leaned her elbow against his forearm, and they made their way to the entrance.

Ten minutes later they stood in line at security. The airport wasn’t busy despite it being midday. They’d probably missed the morning rush. Zain handed his passport to the guard, who examined it under a flashlight. The man flicked his gaze from the passport to Zain, his face stoney. He handed back the small booklet and motioned for him to continue through.

But then Zain saw the guard speak into a mic on his shoulder.

Fuck.

He placed his carry-on onto the conveyor belt, then walked through the metal detectors. No alarms went off, but that didn’t stop anxiety from puckering his shoulder blades together.

Two guards approached from the terminal, and warnings screeched in his head. It took every effort for him not to pull one of the guns from the guard’s waist. He had to keep cool.

The reality was that a prison for Americans, especially ones in their current position, wouldn’t be a safe place for either of them.

Dana came through next. She’d stopped at a store in the airport to purchase a hijab. The fabric framing her face covered the cut on her head and made her appear a little less disheveled. But her sallow skin and wide, wary eyes hit him like a punch to the gut. She clearly noticed the sameshifting energy. They were still in danger.

As she lifted her chin and walked through the metal detector, he wanted to hug her for her bravery. Brick came through next.

One of the new guards approached. “Sir, we have orders to escort you to your plane. Follow me, please.”

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