Page 65 of Zain

His eye caught something shiny on the sidewalk. He bent down and picked up the device. Dana’s phone. Agony pulsed against his temples as the realization hit full force. He dropped to his knees. Desperation ravaged him.

He hadn’t kept her safe.

“Hello? Zain?” Maxine’s earnest voice punched through the halo of grief circling his head.

He brought his phone to his ear. “Maxine. I need your help. She’s gone.” He spoke rapidly, describing everything that had happened to the cold, emotionless woman on the other end.

“I’ll do what I can. Just—Just don’t draw any attention to yourself, all right? There’s a lot of heat from higher-ups about how things were handled in Af—”

“I don’t give a fuck about Afghanistan!”

“Zain,” she said, cool and calm, her I-don’t-give-a-fuck rivaling his. “I understand you’re upset. Believe me, we don’t want this story getting out. Finding Ms. McAvery is my number one priority right now. I’ll get back to you in an hour.”

He hung up and nearly threw his damn phone. Only common sense made him shove it in his pocket. Just what was he supposed to do for a fucking hour? Take up knitting?

He’d given the police on the scene a rundown of the attack on Dana and explained that she hadan open file, but the effort had surely been a wasted one. If Backcountry hadn’t been able to find the guy by now, the cops sure as hell wouldn’t.

Taschen pulled up and leapt out of his vehicle. His gray complexion told Zain that he was at his breaking point. “What do you have?” he demanded, as he strode toward Zain.

Zain quickly explained what’d happened. Taschen uttered a curse but didn’t pin any blame on him.

“We need to find out what vehicle he was driving.”

Zain nodded. “I didn’t get a good look at the cars on the street. I was too distracted. He probably would’ve parked close, though.” He gestured to where Dana had been standing.

“Does your mom have outdoor cameras?”

“No. None.” Sweat dampened the back of his neck. Minutes were ticking by. If they didn’t locate Dana within the next few hours, she probably wouldn’t be found at all.

He couldn’t let that happen. He also couldn’t stand outside his mom’s house a minute fucking longer.

“What about witnesses?” Taschen’s eyes shimmered with worry.

For a flicker of an instant, Zain was struck with what it must feel like to have a sibling missing. Rami had suffered. Zain had known thatall along but had been helpless to do anything about it. Seeing the pain in Taschen’s eyes reminded Zain once again what he’d put his family through.

“None that I could find.” He measured Taschen for a moment. At this point, hiding that he’d worked with the CIA wouldn’t help Dana. Maxine would be pissed, but Taschen had a right to know everything. Resistance swelled on his tongue.

“What is it?” Taschen demanded. “You’re hiding something.”

Zain hung his head as paralyzing shame pulled at his knees. “Not what you think.” He cleared his throat and met Taschen’s furious stare. “I wasn’t held prisoner in Afghanistan. I was working undercover. For the CIA.”

Taschen’s head jerked back. “Huh?”

He shifted his weight and gave a brief explanation of his mission. “I reached out to my CIA contact, and she’s doing everything she can to help find Dana.”

Taschen scoffed. “How the hell’s she gonna do that from Virginia?”

“I dunno, man. Same way they find terrorists overseas. Surveillance, I’d imagine.”

“And you think they give a shit about Dana?”

A knot formed in his gut, and an undeniable, instinctive response rushed forward. No. They didn’t. He clamped his teeth down before heuttered the syllables.

They were fucked.

***

Nausea bubbled inDana’s stomach as she came to. She squeezed her eyes tight against the vomit rising to the back of her throat. Fire licked along her side, and every muscle screamed. Pain enveloped her body.

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