Page 33 of Maddox

“Yeah. It’s safe. Although I’ve been watching.”

As the images started to fade, the panic settling, I knew I must have passed out. He was still holding me, both arms wrapped around me protectively. A part of me wanted to shove him away but having him so close felt much safer. “The nightmare seemed so real.”

“I’m sure it did. They’ll fade in time. Just try and relax. We’ll stay here for a little while longer. First light should occur in an hour or so.”

“Are we going to be able to get away from them?”

“That’s my plan and I usually follow through with a mission.”

He seemed so certain of himself. For a couple of minutes, we sat quickly, the soft glow of a small lantern at least allowing a comforting feeling. “They were going to kill me.”

“Undoubtedly. After they extracted whatever information from you they needed. Or maybe they kept you for another purpose.”

“Selling me on the black market,” I said quietly.

His deep breath continued to rattle me. “Possibly. You knew the other women?”

“Yeah, at least two of them. Are they going to be alright?”

“I’ve already made contact for someone to bring them to safety.”

“I don’t know anything about Alfaro, at least not really. Other than what I wrote about him months ago.”

“Yeah, well, they didn’t know that.”

I could tell by the tone of his voice he didn’t believe that either. I shifted my hand to my chest, able to feel the small lump. Whatever I’d been given had likely been the reason my friends were dead. The guilt was heavy, outweighing the anger. I’d been such a fool to think I could step outside the boundaries of my profession. I was shaking almost uncontrollably.

“What do you do when you’re not reporting? In your free time.”

He was trying to keep me calm.

“You mean providing human interest stories?” I corrected, although I felt a twinge of guilt and I wasn’t certain why. Maybe because he’d risked his life to save mine.

He half chuckled. “Whatever you call it.”

“I don’t really have any free time.”

“That’s a shame. Everyone needs to relax.”

“I sometimes read a book. What about you?”

“I run a ranch.”

“Wow. You don’t seem like a rancher.”

“How so?”

“Because you’re good at killing people,” I admitted.

His sigh was heavy. “That’s a necessity of my former job. You never lose the skill. At least if you’re smart.”

“You make it sound easy.”

“If killing another human being becomes easy then you’re less than human yourself.”

I pulled away just enough to be able to turn around. When I folded my legs under me, he acted as if he was going to stand. I placed my hand on his arm. “Don’t leave. Not yet.”

He was stiff, his body language matching his prickly personality. But he eased back down.

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