Page 71 of Rescuing You

Splat spoke into the heavy silence that followed. “We need an all-night car rental place, and airports are the best bet for that.” To Michael, he said, “I’ll drop you off and find a place off the grounds and out of sight of cameras where we can transfer the boxes. I’ll text you the location.”

“That works.”

Leila’s gaze flicked from Splat to Michael, and he didn’t miss the questions in it. She wanted to know every step of their plan.

Which was why he didn’t look at her again as they drove to the terminal. He didn’t speak to her when he raised the back door and climbed out, just calling to Splat, “See you in a few,” before slamming the door back down.

Maybe, once they crossed into Europe, she’d decide he was trustworthy.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

It all happened so fast.

Splat left Michael at the terminal, drove out of the airport, and found a small parking lot beside a restaurant nearby. Everything was closed at that late hour, so there would be nobody to witness them moving boxes once Michael arrived with the pickup.

Splat climbed out of the van, walked around the area, then climbed back in. “No cameras. Let’s figure out what we should move.”

Leila and Jasmine helped Splat in the cargo area, shuffling boxes. She was pushing one of the four cube-shaped crates toward the back when the rear door jerked up.

Michael, already? That was fast. She turned toward him with a smile.

A gunshot blasted.

The sound ricocheted off the walls, deafening.

She heard a scream, muffled as if from far away, though her sister’s mouth was open in horror.

Splat fell. Facedown.

There was blood, so much blood.

Leila scrambled toward the driver’s seat, but that door opened. A second man climbed in and started the truck.

Behind her, a man climbed into the van, aiming a gun at them. “Did you really think you could get away from us?”

Waleed.

Terror spread to her limbs, made her hands tremble, her legs weaken.

A slow grin stretched across his face. A grin of triumph and conquest. The grin of a predator anticipating his next meal.

She stepped between Waleed and her sister, though he barely acknowledged Jasmine. His gaze skimmed down Leila’s body, and she wished for the ugly pants and shirt she’d worn at the compound. For the first time in her life, she wished for an abaya and hijab. The shorts and T-shirt were modest and breathable but showed more skin than she wanted Waleed to see.

He licked his lips.

He looked past Leila to Jasmine. “You’ll be lucky if he doesn’t kill you.”

Who? Baba wouldn’t do that, would he?

Leila glanced back at her sister and watched her face pale, though her expression was stoic, or maybe resigned was the word.

To Leila, Waleed said, “You will receive your punishment when you are mine.”

“I will never be yours.”

His smile didn’t waver. “I look forward to proving you wrong. Sit. Both of you.”

Jasmine sat on the hard metal floor and dropped her head into her hands.