Page 54 of Rescuing You

“A long journey. I went through Bulgaria and Serbia, sometimes riding, often walking, always paying, paying everything I had. It took months.”

Now, Michael did look up, eyes narrowing as he studied her. “I look forward to hearing that story.”

“That is not the point. The point⁠—”

“I understand, Leila. I know what I’m doing.”

“Do you?”

His eyebrows shot up. He looked around the apartment, his implication clear. They were here, in Baghdad. Not trapped in the middle of the desert.

He’d somehow managed to get away from all those armed guards and then travel sixty miles through the desert with no vehicle. And he’d beat them there.

He knew what he was doing.

Even so… “I would like to know the plan,” she said. “That’s all.”

“When I know it, I’ll tell you.” He resumed stuffing things into his pack.

Her sister grabbed a protein bar, bumping her shoulder. “We must trust him,” she whispered, not that Michael wouldn’t hear.

“I know that.” Leila also knew that escaping from Iraq was one thing, but getting into Europe was entirely different. As an American, Michael didn’t need to worry about what would happen if he were caught in Turkey. But if Leila and Jasmine were, they would be detained—and the detention centers were neither clean nor safe. They could be held for months, years, even.

And then they could be sent right back here.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Sitting on the floor beside his pack, Michael could feel Leila’s doubt. Or maybe it was disapproval. Either way, he didn’t need her input on his plan—which was barely more than a vague idea at this point, anyway.

It wasn’t as if there were a plethora of options.

Step one, he had to get the sisters out of Iraq and away from the people trying to recapture them and probably kill him.

He’d figure out step two soon enough.

Which meant not engaging in debate with the woman currently giving him the side-eye.

Or worrying about the other one, who was scrutinizing a protein bar as if it might attack her. Considering the vomiting he’d heard in the middle of the night, it might.

Where would they be the next time she got sick? Because an ill-timed episode could mean the death of all of them. As if they didn’t have enough to worry about.

He texted Splat.

One of the women is throwing up. Bring lemons.

How lemons could help, he couldn’t imagine.

His friend’s only reply was…

???

No idea.

That got a thumbs-up.

At least somebody didn’t feel the need to question his every decision.

He’d bought both sisters a small backpack so they could carry their own things. Everyone was packed now, food eaten and, aside from the one protein bar, stowed. He’d instructed Leila and Jasmine to shove as many bottles of water as they could fit in their backpacks, and he’d gotten most of the rest of them in his.