Page 39 of Zain

Zain caught Dana’s hand and nodded. “Thank you.”

Brick handed Zain his bag and carried Dana’s and his. Zain’s gaze scanned the terminal as they followed the guards. For all he knew, they were being led to police cars. Or a firing squad. But if his instinct was correct, their escort meant Maxine had come through for him.

They reached an exit, and one of their guards scanned his badge over the keypad. The door opened and warm air hit Zain’s skin. Dana moved in close to him as they walked outside.

No police cars. No cops. A private plane sat waiting on the tarmac. The pilot waiting by the steps grinned at Brick.

Relief started to settle in around him. Jesus Christ. They just might make it out of here.

“Your chariot awaits,” the pilot said jokingly.

Brick pulled him into a hug. “Jake! It’s been too long.”

“Have a safe flight.” The guards turned and made their way back to the airport.

Some of the pressure left Zain’s chest. “Can weget out of here?” he interrupted, before Brick and his buddy decided to get caught up.

“Yeah, we’re, uh... in a hurry,” Brick said.

Jake grimaced as he led the way up the steps. “Is that it? Your message—and bribe—made it seem like you were in some kind of trouble. Lucky for you I was in Dubai.”

Brick snorted. “Shit ended up getting even worse. How soon can we get in the air?”

“Soon as you folks are buckled.”

Dana’s hand was cool and damp in Zain’s. He massaged her fingers for reassurance, but until they were well above the ground he wouldn’t be at ease.

The air in the plane was cool and the six seats a little tight, but the Cessna gleamed. It had white leather seats and wooden trim accents. At the back was a small counter with a bar fridge and a microwave.

Dana slid into one of the seats at the back, and Zain took the chair across the narrow aisle from her. Brick sat up front, one row separating them.

Jake closed the door, muffling the sounds of the jets around them. Another man popped out from the cockpit. He was several inches shorter than Jake and looked to be in his late forties. “This is Thomas,” Jake said. “My copilot. We’ll be taking you guys home today. We’ve got a long flight with a couple of stops to refuel. Help yourself to food from the kitchenette, and otherwise just relax.”

Dana buckled her seatbelt and gripped thearmrests. Zain did up his own buckle while Jake ensured bags were secured. The pilots disappeared inside the cockpit, and a minute later, the engine fired up and they taxied down the runway.

With the hum of the motor in his ears and the blue sky filling the window, Zain’s anxiety lessened. If someone would’ve told him two days ago that he’d be on a plane back to the US, he’d have laughed his ass off.

He moved his gaze from the puffy white clouds to Dana’s pale complexion. A bell dinged, notifying them they could move about the cabin. Zain got to his feet and went to the kitchen. He found chicken wraps, chips, and water bottles as well as a first aid kit.

Making his way back to his seat, he placed some food on Dana’s tray.

For a moment she looked surprised, and she stared at him with glassy eyes. His gut tensed. She was either exhausted or injured more than they’d thought.

“Thank you.”

He caught her cheek in his hand and slowly peeled back her hijab. “Do you have any pain?”

Her eyes flickered. “Everywhere.”

Fuck. “I should have properly assessed you after the crash.”

She closed her eyes. “It’s my head more than anything.”

He dug into the first aid kit and found someibuprofen. He shook a couple into her hand and unscrewed her water bottle. She tossed back the pills, wincing as she swallowed. Her hand trembled as she lowered the bottle.

“I’m going to start at your head. If anything hurts, tell me.”

He felt her scalp. As his fingers brushed over a goose egg, she winced. He grunted then moved on to her neck. She didn’t wince until he turned her head to the side. “Hurt there, too?”

---