Page 41 of Fallen Hero

The girl tried again, but this time Calista had cleared the stairs, caught the girl’s wrist, twisted to face her, dipped, and hefted the girl onto her shoulder in a modified fireman’s hold I was shocked as shit she could maneuver.

The tiny girl didn’t give up and whaled on Calista’s back as she made her way through the derelict store.

“You good?” I called out.

“Sure.”

Her voice sounded tight and determined, not in pain, so I refrained from telling her to put the girl down and contain her until I could pass Kiara off to one of the guys, who were hopefully waiting for us outside the door.

“Almost there, Kiara,” I murmured. “You’re safe now.”

As expected, she didn’t acknowledge me.

My heart rate ticked up when I heard muffled yells and moving on the ground, until I remembered the three assholes we’d zip-tied.

Almost there.

The mangled door came into view. Next I saw Fallon outside the door, standing guard. He didn’t wait for Calista to get to the door; he rushed inside, pulled the girl off Calista, and took off running.

“Go.”

“You first,” Calista returned, catching her breath.

“Go!”

Her head snapped up, she shot me a glare, then took off out the door.

Hot, humid fresh air slapped me in the face. Or at least it was fresher than the stale body-odor stench in the building. I’d take the dirty city air and be happy.

Pete came up beside me at a jog.

“Two blocks north. Al Satwa Road. Want me to take her?”

“I got her.”

I glanced up the block and saw Fallon and Calista. Her much smaller legs trying to keep up, Fallon taking a slower pace than normal so he didn’t lose her.

I wanted her by my side.

“Sorry, Kiara, I’d uncover your mouth, but I can’t have you screaming.”

Pete jumped off the sidewalk to get around a group of tourists staring into a closed shop. Thankfully, this street was mostly empty, or we’d be fucked. But what was more fucked was, none of the men looking into the store said a damn thing about me running with a woman in my arms. Didn’t yell for help. Didn’t so much as spare me a glance.

This world was fucked.

Al Satwa Road came into view. Less than fifty meters. A silver minivan came to a screeching stop at the corner right in front of Calista and Fallon.

“Pete—”

“That’s our ride.”

Fallon must’ve relayed the same information. Calista opened the sliding back door and waved Fallon inside. He shook his head and waved for her to enter. Her head turned. With laser precision, our eyes locked.

I wanted to yell and tell her to get her ass in the van but didn’t want unnecessary attention. We were twenty yards away from hijacking two victims and getting them to safety. I’d yell at the stubborn woman later.

Finally, Calista crawled into the van. Fallon followed. A few seconds later, I did the same, falling into a seat with Kiara now fighting in earnest. Pete slammed the sliding door closed. As soon as he did, I craned my neck to see Calista in the back seat. At some point, her shayla had come loose and was hardly covering any blonde.

Whatever I was going to say to her died in my throat when her gaze lifted and tormented blue eyes found mine.