Page 93 of Sheltering You

And yeah, he was being a jerk.

But at the moment, he didn’t care.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Jasmine drove a few miles on the interstate, then took another dark exit and pulled the car over. She was trembling, and she needed a bathroom, and she desperately wanted Derrick to take her spot behind the wheel. But she caught his face in the rearview and knew he was in much worse shape than she was. Pale and wincing in pain, there was no way he should be driving.

She stayed where she was. “Move to the passenger seat, please.”

He didn’t argue, which gave her more confidence that she’d made the right decision. Even though he’d taught her to drive, he teased her about her caution behind the wheel. Once she’d earned her license, he’d taken over the driving whenever they were together.

He settled into the passenger seat without a word.

Little though she wanted to, she trudged into the forest and emptied her bladder. They couldn’t risk stopping at a gas station anytime soon, but she couldn’t hold out any longer or Rabie wouldn’t be the only one who’d soiled his clothes.

A few minutes later, she eased back onto the interstate toward Wheeling. Michael had said to go that direction and continue to Pittsburgh. Fortunately, it was not far, only sixty miles, if the sign was accurate. The display in the dashboard told her they had seventy-five miles remaining before the gas tank would be empty, so she hoped Michael would find a hotel on this side of the city.

She was surprised to find that Pittsburgh was so close. Was it not in another state entirely?

How many states would they drive through today? A tiny, curious part of her wished it were daylight. If Khalid found her and took her back to Iraq, this would be her only opportunity to tour America. She hated that she was only seeing darkness.

In the back, Rabie’s arms were crossed. He stared out the window. She didn’t miss the glint of tears on his cheeks.

There was nothing she could say to make this better for him. He didn’t know his brother like Basma did. He would simply have to trust that Basma knew what was best. If he couldn’t be convinced of that, then he’d grow bitter and angry toward her.

Perhaps he would end up like his brother anyway.

And all of this would have been for nothing.

Jasmine should’ve stayed out of it. She should’ve stayed in Maine. What foolishness had driven her to this? Love for Basma, yes. But Michael could have helped her friend. And would have, probably, if she’d asked him to. But instead of taking the risk that he might refuse her, she’d not only put herself in danger, but she’d risked her unborn baby’s life. And Derrick’s life.

She could still feel the warmth of that terrible man’s breath on her cheek when he’d spoken to her.

Yasamin.

She hadn’t thought about what it meant at the time, only that she couldn’t let him take her.

But she had to think about it now. Derrick was right. There had to be a reason Dari would have Jasmine kidnapped.

If he was acquainted with Hasan, then he was likely acquainted with Khalid.

Were they working together? Was he seeking favor? Or did Dari intend to use her as a bargaining chip? A hostage? Did he plan to sell her back to her husband?

No matter how it might have happened, Jasmine would have been returned to Khalid.

Thank You, Most High God, for delivering me. Again. And for keeping us safe. Forgive me for my foolishness. Please, protect us.

She hadn’t put an address into the navigation system. She followed signs toward Pittsburgh, glancing at Derrick in the passenger seat.

His eyes were squeezed shut, his hand pressing the sweatshirt against his wound.

Even thinking of it—what had happened, what could have happened—turned her stomach. “Perhaps we should find a pharmacy.”

“No.” The word was clipped. “Just drive until Michael calls back.”

“But it needs to be cleaned.”

“I don’t want to go to jail tonight.”