Page 114 of Sheltering You

She loved him like she had never known she could love a man.

For the first time, she understood what she’d sacrificed when she’d made that vow to Khalid.

“You won’t do it.” Derrick wasn’t asking a question. The words were more a statement of fact. “You won’t divorce him.”

“If I thought it would protect my child, I would consider it.” Tears stung her eyes and made her voice high. She cleared her throat, but that wouldn’t help. There was no hiding the truth from Derrick. “To marry another man though…” She took a breath. Once it was said, it would be done. “I cannot. I did not wish to make the vow to Khalid, but I did make it. I am his wife, and I cannot undo that. No matter how much I wish I could.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

There was nothing left to say.

Derrick had waited his whole life for Jasmine.

And he couldn’t have her.

It was as simple as that.

She’d grown quiet after their talk, messing around on one of the burner phones for a while, then eventually falling asleep, leaving him with his thoughts, which turned darker than the starless, predawn sky.

If he hunted down Khalid and killed him, then Jasmine would be safe.

As he drove steadily east, Derrick considered all the ways he could do it. Michael could help him find the guy. They could set a trap.

Derrick couldn’t tell his brother what he planned, of course. Michael wouldn’t approve.

But Derrick had killed two men already—the second had died of the gunshot wound earlier in the day.

What was one more? If anybody deserved to die, it was Khalid.

If he was dead, then Jasmine would be free.

But would Derrick?

Killing those men to protect Jasmine and Rabie was one thing. Killing Qasim in cold blood—so he could marry the man’s wife? That was a different thing altogether. And no matter how he tried to justify it, that was his true motivation.

A real David and Bathsheba situation. Well, at least Jasmine wasn’t pregnant with Derrick’s kid. No, she carried that terrorist’s spawn.

Spawn?

The word felt like sawdust in his mouth.

She carried a baby. An innocent child, regardless of who his father was.

Derrick really needed to change the direction of his thoughts.

Finally, the sun lightened the horizon ahead, and though the traffic was moving at a good clip, there were sure a lot of folks headed to New York City at five thirty in the morning, especially this close to Christmas.

He followed the line of cars down into the Lincoln Tunnel. He’d never been a fan of tunnels. Put him at thirty thousand feet in the air anytime, but knowing there were thousands of pounds of saltwater just a handful of yards above his head gave him the heebie-jeebies.

He smiled at the childish expression.

But there was nothing childish about where his mind had gone for the last hour. Not that he’d ever actually do it. Well, he wouldn’t plan it and execute it. He wasn’t exactly the premeditated-murder type.

Unless he knew he could get away with it. And then, maybe. He could envision it. And there was a small, terrible part of him that wanted to see the man’s face, watch him…

He shook himself. What was he doing? What was he thinking?

Was this the kind of man he was?