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Ramos swore again under his breath, mumbling, “That wasn’t the deal.”
Jack’s head came up. What deal was he talking about? A deal to do with her?
He turned to look at her so savagely, she pressed her back against the wall, her chest heaving with twisted horror. He looked like he wanted to kill her. “Take her back to her cell. When the embassy lackey leaves, clean her up, then bring her to my hacienda.”
“Yes,Hefe,” the guard said.
He came into the room and grabbed her arm and dragged her through the open door. How close was this embassy person? With the kind of fear that made her reckless, she screamed, “Help me! Please help me!”
“Shut her up,” Ramos said, adjusting his clothes.
The guard grabbed her by her hair and covered her mouth. She tried to bite him, but he slapped her so hard, she flew into the wall, hitting her head. Something wet slid down her face as she stumbled upright, trying to run, but he caught her easily and dragged her roughly down the hall.
When they reached her cell, he opened the door and shoved her inside. Her momentum took her into the wall again and without her hands, she couldn’t brace herself. She turned at the last minute and hit her shoulder, crying out from the sharp pain.
The sound behind her was like a cracking knuckle.
Reeling, Jack turned to find two men dressed all in black, one with his rifle by his side, and his hands around the guard’s head and throat, the other black-clothed man had his weapon trained on the guard. What now?
* * *
A single pop of a vertebrae,and Easy hesitated. Then his gaze fell on the woman. Through the muck and the grime, he recognized her as Devers, the hostage. Her face and nose were bloody, and her hands were manacled behind her. He easily applied quick pressure to the man’s neck. Three successive pops filled the cell before the bastard softened in his grip.
He let the body slide to the ground. Her face blanched and she screamed, a blood-curdling scream that echoed off the cell walls and pierced his eardrums.
He leapt forward and covered her mouth as gently as he could. Her eyes were wide with terror. “American military,” he said softly, waiting another moment to say it again. “American.Military.”
She closed her eyes, sagging in relief, then nodded. He removed his hand, thinking absently she was more beautiful up close, even under all the dirt.
He pulled a key out of his vest and unlocked the cuffs, tucking them inside. Never knew when he’d need them. The moment she was free, she hurled herself against him. She threw her arms around his neck, nearly knocking him on his butt, and buried her face in his Throat.
Easy was caught completely off guard as good human decency overtook him and something else. He wouldn’t acknowledge the feeling, but he couldn’t seem to keep himself from putting his arms around her. He couldn’t seem to stop himself from holding her or stroking her hair or whispering soft words to her. She clung to him, shaking so badly. Then, as if she realized what she was doing, she backed away, and stared at him, her eyes flicking to Shark, then back to him.
She rubbed at her wrists marred with new and old bruises. “There’s someone here from the embassy. Will they be okay?”
“Don’t worry. It was a ruse to get you out of the warden’s office. That operative can take care of himself. We bribed guards.”
“Oh, good. I’d hate for anyone to be trapped in here.”
“It’s time to go. We have a small window of opportunity.”
“Go?” She shook her head and backed away. If she left without those heels, it would prove she was weak and wishy-washy. It wasn’t going to happen. “I’m not leaving here without my Jimmy Choos.”
4
It tooka quick moment for Easy to process what the woman was saying. Shark looked over his shoulder and said, “What the fuck did she say? Shoes?”
“No.Shoes,” she said with an emphasis, like that was helping. Her contradiction confused Easy even more.
“You just said shoes again. What are you talking about?”
“Not shoes! Shoes! C-h-o-o-s,” she said as if talking to the village idiot.
“Choose? Choose what?”
“Oh my God.” She huffed out a breath. “Datuk JimmyChoo!It’s aMalaysian fashion designer’s last name, spelled, C-h-o-o! Choo! He’s based in the United Kingdom, which is famous for handmade women’sshoes! S-h-o-e-s!” She closed her eyes, her fists clenching by her sides, her face contorted with savage emotion, almost painful to see. It was clear she was traumatized, exhausted, and strung out. He couldn’t imagine what she went through but agitating her more would only make things worse. “They’re mine and they were taken from me. I’m not leaving this fucking place until I get them back.”
“Unfuckingbelievable. Is she serious?” Shark asked.
