Page 28 of Maddox

He was strikingly tall, maybe six and half feet with broad shoulders, built like a fighter. I couldn’t see his face given the shadows, but his figure was both impressive and oppressive. Who the hell was this man?

“Lieutenant Maddox Grant. I’m here to escort you to safety.” He shifted the light he was holding to the other prisoners, taking a deep breath. “You’re Charmaine Douglas?”

I stared at him. The man had no accent. He was obviously American. Let me guess. This was the great Navy SEAL. “Yes.”

“We need to leave. Now.”

“How do I know you’re who you say you are?”

A single noise caught both our attention. “Sweetheart. We don’t have time to play games. Either you come with me, or you will die. It’s as simple as that.”

I shifted from foot to foot, immediately angered by his lack of tolerance. “Not without the others.”

“I was ordered to bring you to safety. That’s exactly what I’m going to do. Come with me. Now.”

With my arms folded, I took another step toward him, daring him to cross me. He could tell my answer.

“Christ’s sake. I’m one man.” His insistence was full of frustration.

None of the women moved, frozen to the spot.

He cursed under his breath, glancing at the faces of the prisoners one at a time.

“Fine,” he hissed. “But you will do as I say. They can fend for themselves.”

“Asshole,” I muttered.

CHAPTER 9

Charmaine

Pop! Pop!

“Fuck,” the lieutenant hissed, his body tumbling forward, but he caught himself before falling into the muck.

“We need to keep running.” I grabbed Maddox’s arm and he instantly hissed.

“You’ve been shot.”

“No shit.” He pulled my arm instead, yanking us behind a huge tree. The rain continued to fall, mud and slop everywhere.

We were both soaked, the pelting rain at least cooling the extreme humidity.

“Are you going to make it?” I asked.

He laughed. “I’ve been through worse than this, sweetheart. Just a flesh wound.”

The weight of what had just occurred when we’d managed to escape had already begun to take a toll. I was shaking, my feet numb. Soon, the rush of adrenaline would wear off. When it did, it was entirely possible panic would set in.

The SEAL had killed at least eight people, maybe more. We’d stepped over dead bodies as soon as he’d pulled me from the concrete compound.

“They’re still after us,” I managed, unable to see anything. But I could feel them, their vibrations and had caught several whispered words over the last few minutes.

“Wait right here,” he gritted out. “Right here. Take this.”

With the darkness, I couldn’t go anywhere. At least he was wearing what had to be night vision goggles. Until after he slipped away, I didn’t realize what he’d handed me was a handgun. Yes, I knew how to use one. Years before after almost being killed on assignment, I’d gotten a permit, purchased a weapon, and had endured hours at the shooting range. Did that mean I was an expert shooter? Hell, no, but at least I wouldn’t hesitate to fire a shot or two if necessary.

Yet right now, I had to face the fact I couldn’t see a thing in the dark. How could I shoot anyone if I couldn’t see them? I huddled against the tree, hating the fact my other senses were hypersensitive. The sounds were excruciating. Creatures of the night. The creepy-crawlies were nothing in comparison to the drifting sensations coursing through me at a rapid speed.

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