Page 117 of Rescuing You

Michael could either be loyal to his country or loyal to this woman.

But, if Jasmine had been compromised, then he could not be loyal to both.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

In the midnight darkness, Leila stared at a glow in the distance—the faintest light rising from the black horizon. Michael had told her those lights came from the city of Mytilene on the island of Lesvos. Their destination.

So far away.

Between here and there, deep and dangerous water. Crashing surf, loud and close, only heightened her fears.

Michael was below her on the steep, rocky shore. He’d already inflated the boat. He needed to attach the engine and add fuel.

Jasmine had walked away to find a place to relieve herself, though how she had anything inside her that didn’t come back up, Leila didn’t know.

It had been a long, uncomfortable ride from Antalya. Eight hours of tension, and there’d been no getting past it. With Jasmine in the car, it wasn’t as if Leila and Michael had been able to talk privately. Even if they had, what was there to say?

Leila knew her sister wasn’t a terrorist.

Michael suspected she was.

She’d heard whispers of the CIA’s tactics. Everyone in Baghdad had heard those whispers.

Torture.

Was that the kind of man he was?

Surely not. Everything in her demanded she discard the idea out of hand.

But he was a spy. Was she a fool to believe in him?

He walked up the hill. Despite the darkness, she made out his shape and the hair of the ridiculous wig poking out beneath his hat.

They were all still disguised, but nobody was watching from the buildings that lined the water here. Not homes and hotels but shops, all closed for the night.

Michael reached her side and faced the water.

In a sudden wind gust, she clamped a hand onto the knit cap and wig to keep them from flying off. It was much cooler here than it’d been in Antalya. Leila wasn’t sure if the climate was different or if the weather had shifted.

“My sister is not a terrorist. You need to stop treating her like she is.”

“I’m only asking her questions.” His voice was kind and gentle. Maybe because the man was. Maybe because he was very good at getting people to trust him.

She didn’t know what to believe about him, and it didn’t matter right now. He’d gotten them this far, and he was their only hope. So she tried to believe him. She needed to make him understand.

“I know Jasmine,” Leila said. “If she knew what they were planning, she would tell us.”

“You haven’t seen your sister in a decade. Anything could’ve happened since then. She was alone, Leila. You weren’t there.”

His words stabbed, even if Michael hadn’t meant them to.

“Your mother died,” he said. “Jasmine had nobody but your father and those men. People who are alone and lonely will do whatever they have to do to not feel alone, to connect. How do you know they didn’t turn her against you? Against your faith? How do you know⁠—?”

“I would know.”

“Maybe.” The word was barely audible above the water that seemed to be inching closer with every wave. “She’s hiding something. This is what I do for a living, Leila. I read people. I ferret out their secrets. She’s lying. And I think you know that.”

Leila wanted to argue, but she’d gotten the same impression, that her sister was keeping secrets. “She is sick. I think there’s a story, but that doesn’t make her a terrorist.”