Page 17 of Rescuing You

As soon as he heard the door close, he bolted for the staircase, yanked open the door, pushed through, then closed it carefully, as quietly as he could. Once it clicked, he picked up his suitcase and ran down two flights of stairs to the ground floor. He hurried through the lobby and exited into a chilly, drizzly night.

He was thankful for his waterproof jacket as he jogged away, his suitcase bouncing along behind him. He’d chosen one of the many hotels that ringed the airport, all connected by a four-lane road that was mostly deserted tonight. A sidewalk ran between the hotels. He passed two of them until he reached the third, an international chain. Keeping his head down to avoid CCTV cameras—they were everywhere around here—he loitered near the edge of the drop-off area and opened his Uber app.

Thirty minutes later, he purchased a ticket on the first flight that left for the Continent. From Frankfurt, he’d figure out a way to get to Iraq…and Leila.

Hopefully, Brock wouldn’t catch up to him until after he’d rescued her.

God willing, he wouldn’t end up at some black site for this. Even if he did, Leila was worth it.

CHAPTER SIX

Five days had passed.

Five days since Yasamin…Jasmine had spoken to Michael.

Leila paced her tiny room from the window to the door and back, trying to pray and trust God.

It wasn’t easy.

When her father had come with a small bowl of rice on the third day after their argument, she’d played her part, apologizing and promising to try harder to be the daughter he wanted—not only because she’d been very hungry, but also because she hadn’t wanted Baba to think she was planning to escape. She’d been so subservient that she’d feared she overplayed her hand. But he’d accepted it, apparently believing that he’d broken her.

He didn’t know her at all. Maybe he never had.

Even so, he was her father. Had Jasmine told Michael that Baba was there? What if Baba were hurt or killed when Michael—or more likely his brother—came to rescue them? Would she be able to live with herself?

All Leila could do was wait and trust that God would do what was best.

Which was more difficult today than it had been, thanks to the car that had arrived earlier. She’d seen it approaching, seen it stop at the gate. She watched two men step out as her father rushed to greet the visitors.

As usual, she couldn’t get a look at their faces from her vantage point.

Until Baba pointed to her window.

One of the men looked her way.

She’d stepped back, but not fast enough.

A slow, cruel smile crossed Waleed Shehab’s lips. He didn’t wave or nod, just stared at her as if he knew exactly where she was, hiding in the shadows in her locked room. Trapped.

And then the other man followed his gaze. Uncle Hasan wasn’t smiling. The look he shot her was filled with contempt.

It was his decision to force her to marry Waleed, payback for believing she could live her own life. Choose her own way.

Waleed was to be her lifelong punishment for defiance.

She couldn’t wait any longer. She had to get out of here.

She and Jasmine could do it, together. If they could get to her old friend’s house, Heba and her husband would transport them to Baghdad and out of the country. After all, Heba had helped her last time.

She lived with her husband in a little town between here and Baghdad. If Leila and Jasmine could get there, Heba would protect them.

But Leila’s twin had only come to see her once since the night they’d talked, and she’d only stayed long enough to report that Michael had promised to rescue them.

Was Michael coming? Would he be able to get into the country? Would Grant, his special forces brother?

Former special forces, but surely he still had contacts.

Would those contacts care about two insignificant Iraqi women?