Page 19 of Zain

She rested her cheek against his chest, her hand gripping his shirt. Her shoulders shook and he mumbled comforting sounds that probably didn’t make any sense. He might not have the right words, but he could give her a moment to process shit. He rubbed his fingers in small circles between her shoulder blades as her raspy little cries twisted his insides.

She was a lot smaller than him. Tiny even. Which only made him more furious with Rakesh. He hadn’t witnessed Rakesh’s assaults on women, but he’d heard about them. Knew that she’d have been unrecognizable if he’d had even ten minutes alone with her.

The possibility blurred his vision. He took a slow, deep breath to lower his heart rate before the strained organ beat out of his chest.

“Sorry. I don’t know what’s come over me.”

“You’re fine.” His tone was gruffer than he wanted it to be.

She chortled and pulled away, wiping her tears with her knuckles. “I got your shirt all wet.”

His hand stayed rooted to her back as if it had a mind of its own. “Come on. We’ve got a long drive ahead.”

He led her from the cave with the flashlight illuminating their path. He might have canceled his contract with the CIA, but it wasn’t for nothing.

***

Dana sat inthe front seat of the small sedan, both the bottle of water and the protein bar Zain had given her half gone.

She was grateful the prisoner’s scent—of urine and god knew what else—was off her skin. In the cave, she’d removed both the other man’s garments and her own.

Now, only Zain’s heady scent surrounded her. The aroma of pine and spice was all him, and she didn’t mind one bit. It would beat artificial fragrance any day.

They’d ridden in silence for the last fifteen minutes. Zain seemed on edge, and he routinely checked his rearview mirror, but no one followed them.

She didn’t want to break his concentration, but the need to locate Brick strummed through her. The last thing she wanted was for him to ambush the compound they’d just left and be attacked. “Can I use your phone now?”

Zain slid his gaze her way. “Yeah, but we’ll be in Pakistan in an hour. Can it wait? I’d feel better with more distance between us and Jaysh.”

“I got separated from my colleague at the protest. I’m worried he didn’t make it.”

His jaw clenched, and he seemed to be struggling to make a decision. Slowly he nodded. “Yeah, I guess you should call him. I’m assumingthat’s the guy who tried to run after you?”

Regret pulled at her heart. “Yes. He was hit in the head.”

“I saw.” He stretched toward the back seat, rummaged through his duffel bag, then passed her a device. “It’s a satellite phone. Works the same as any other, though. Just more reliable without the need for cell towers.”

She held the smooth, bulky plastic. “Will the CIA be angry about your mission?” Stupid question. Of course they would. She couldn’t stand the thought of him going through any more turmoil, but what was done was done.

“I’ll deal with it. Call your friend.”

She hit the buttons on the keypad—no flimsy glass screens for this military-grade phone—and pressed the device to her ear. The line rang and she closed her eyes.Please pick up. Please pick up.

“Hello?”

The sound of the husky, cautious male voice made Dana choke out a laugh.

“Brick? Is that you?”

“Dana?Holy hell. Where are you? What happened?”

“That’s a long story. We’re almost in Pakistan. About an hour away. Where are you?”

“I’m at Ali’s. After they took you from the protest, I came here for cover so I could arrange a team and plan an extraction strategy. But—Wait, who’re you with?”

She didn’t hold back the smile that pulled at her lips because as wild as this mission was, she’d succeeded. “Zain.”

A beat passed. “Dana, I think you’re in the wrong line of work. Rami’s crazy to keep you behind a desk.”

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