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“We have to go,” he whispered into her ear as the rangers moved to help Tariq into the harness that would lift him into the hovering helicopter.
Easing from her he took the harness from the waiting ranger and helped her into it before strapping on his own and clipping it to the rope.
Just in time.
As they were lifted into the darkened sky, the lights of the Matawa’s vehicles began cutting through the winding vehicle paths that eventually led to their location.
Once the Matawa arrived, there would be no escape without bloodshed.
Within seconds the ropes were pulled into the helicopter, the rangers climbing in and securing their passengers then themselves, before the helicopter shot through the sky.
“Captain Mustafa, we’ll be landing at a hidden airbase and loading you on a transport plane straight to D.C.” Commander Ramsey jerked the mask from his face as he made the announcement.
David “Race” Ramsey settled back against the frame of the stripped-down Black Hawk helicopter as he stared at them.
“Thanks for arriving on time, Commander Ramsey.” Tariq grinned. “It looked as though you might be running late for a minute or two there.”
Race gave a small chuckle as his blue eyes twinkled in amusement.
“General Jack Walters will be waiting in D.C. to debrief you, Captain Mustafa, and Ms. Galbraithe.” Ramsey grinned at Tariq. “One of you are going to have to advance in rank soon, before things get confusing.”
“Yes, sir,” Abram responded, only half listening as he felt Paige tense in his hold.
“Captain Mustafa?” she whispered.
“A formality, nothing more,” he answered quietly, praying no one would explain before he had the chance to do so himself.
Ramsey’s lips quirked, obviously catching the less-than-honest response.
It was another lie told to her. It was one of many, and God knew she didn’t deserve the dishonesty.
“Your brother and parents are being notified of your rescue,” Ramsey assured her before nodding to Abram. “It’s good to have you back, sir.”
“It’s good to be back, Commander.” Abram nodded. It had been a while since he’d had to consider the rank he’d earned while working undercover in the place he should have been able to call his home.
Abram turned his head and stared for a second at the darkened sunbaked land below them.
There were no regrets.
As he watched the land of his birth recede into the distance he couldn’t feel anything for the years he had spent there, except sorrow.
Lessa was buried there, as was the second wife he had barely known, along with their unborn child.
He was leaving behind his youth, but it hadn’t served him well while he had it. Just as the land he had been born to had refused to protect him.
“We’re going home,” Paige whispered against his chest. In her voice he could hear the underlying question.
As her head tipped back to stare at him, he saw the silent question in the emerald depths.
It was a question he wasn’t ready to face.
“You have your life back now,” he promised her as he deliberately moved her to the seat beside him. While he held her, he couldn’t think, he couldn’t feel anything past his need for her.
“Yes,” she announced softly.
“Your job.” He moved in front of her to help remove her harness.
She blinked, her breath hitching as he watched the realization entering her gaze.
She nodded hesitantly. “My job,” she agreed, though that wasn’t true, he remembered. She had no job, because of him, Jafar, and Azir. She’d lost that, but maybe she could be rehired or else she could find another, he told himself. Another job, another apartment if she had to, and at the worst, she could find more friends. But she could only die once.
“Please don’t.” Her fingers lay against his lips as they parted again, her fear of what he might say almost as bad as the fear for her life had been. “If you’re going to walk out of my life then just do it, okay? I don’t want to know.”
Her lips trembled and it broke his heart. But as he nodded slowly and said nothing more, it broke her heart worse. He watched the pain move into her eyes, watched it drain the color from her fhere were simply no promises to give her.
She clasped her hands tightly in her lap and stared dismissively over his shoulder. As though she were done with him.
And God help him, he couldn’t blame her.
* * *
ARMY TRANSPORT
FLIGHT TO WASHINGTON, D.C.
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
She was sleeping. Soft lips were parted, innocently belying the dark shadows beneath her eyes and the smudge of tearstains on her soft, pale cheeks.
Tariq simply could not believe his cousin’s stupidity. As if he and every man in the army helicopter hadn’t seen Abram’s gentle though destructive rejection of her.
Sitting in the netted area that posed as the passenger seat, he watched her sleep and wondered what Abram was thinking by walking away from her.
“I have to say, you’re a dumber bastard than I thought you were,” he commented quietly, his voice just loud enough to assure that Abram heard him.
He glanced at his cousin, catching the look that Abram shot the sleeping beauty as well.
There wasn’t a chance in hell that Abram wasn’t regretting any thought of walking away from her.
“I have enough ghosts haunting me.” Abram sighed. “I can’t add to them, Tariq. I don’t have the promises she needs.”
“She’s a woman, not a ghost,” Tariq objected with an edge of disgust. “And I didn’t hear her asking for any damned thing.”
Hell, talking to Abram was like talking to a wall, with the exception that the wall was probably more receptive on occasion.
“Let’s keep it that way,” Abram suggested, his tone caustic as he leaned closer to be heard over the sounds of the plane’s engines.
Tariq sat silently for long moments. He needed to figure this one out, quickly, before his cousin made the dumbest mistake of his life.
“Well, if you’re walking away then you can’t have a problem with me trying a hand at her heart, right?”
The look Abram turned on him promised violence. “Stay the f**k away from her.”
Tariq stared back at him, their gazes locked in a battle of wills that neither were used to.eight="0em">
