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Jack walked toward her and ducked inside. “You can change here. They are looking for you. Did you escape from the prison?”
Jack nodded. The woman spit and said, “Bastardos brutales.”
Jack unbuttoned the shirt and pulled it off, her prison white beneath it. The woman handed her a dark T-shirt and Jack, unabashed, pulled off the scratchy garment and dropped it, donning the soft cotton with a sigh. She decided to keep the pants and the boots. The woman eyed the heels and then handed her a simple cotton bag someone would use for shopping.
Jack slipped the strap over her head, then deposited the Jimmy Choos inside.
“You better go. They will be searching houses.”
“Thank you,” Jack said as there was a heavy pounding on the door. The woman gasped and bolted. Jack went in the other direction.
There was the sound of splintering wood, then the order. “Stop!” the male voice called out, terrifying her all over again.
She ignored him and ran, breathing hard, her eyes darting everywhere. Then the window shattered as a heavy, dark body came through. The man chasing her and the man who had jumped up off the floor like a superhero stopped him cold, then they were grappling like two titans, punching, kicking, throwing bows. In the recesses of her adrenaline and overwhelmed brain, she realized they were fighting, but it didn’t matter. She had to find somewhere safe.
She bounded away, just as something silver flashed in the dim light and one of the men grunted and fell to the wood floor. Bolting for the back through the long narrow building, slamming doors behind her, she was running on fumes.
He was stronger, faster, shattering doors and leaving them dangling on the hinges behind him. Panicked and light-headed, Jack threw open the back door and darted out. He was right after her, lunging, catching her by the shirt. She tried to get out of it, but he yanked her back against him, locking her arms to her sides. She threw her head back into his, but he jerked aside, catching only his cheek. She drew her knees up, jammed them back into his shins. He buckled but held on, and his grip grew punishing.
“Easy, Jack! I don’t want to hurt you. Stop struggling. It’s me.” He held her so tight, he cut off her breathing, movement, and her brain started to shut down. Her strength vanished, and she sagged in his arms. She knew this man, the sound of his voice rumbled through her body, and she shivered but not from fear.Easy. It was Easy.
A bad case of the shakes hit her. God, she’d been so scared. So damned scared. Determined not to let panic take her again, she made herself concentrate on taking deep, steadying breaths, making her muscles relax.
He loosened his hold, and his voice came again, like thick honey near her ear. “That’s it. Calm down. You’re safe.”
Jack twisted to look at him, believing for the first time tonight that she was safe with him. A keen awareness of him slithered over her, his scent, his unbelievably blue eyes, those big, capable hands, and the powerhouse of muscle locking her to him.
His face was emotionless. Yet in his dead-calm eyes, Jack saw intense relief, and she realized that he cared what happened to her. Okay, now her heart was melting, then it jumped. There were two men after her. “There was another man—”
“Neutralized.”
That meant he’d probably broken another neck for her.
With an efficiency she didn’t have, he ushered her out of the building and down the street, walking quickly, then he ducked into a dark doorway. He depressed his comm. “Easy to Tex, copy?”
She stared at him while he waited, then he frowned. He looked down, felt around in his tactical vest, then swore. He fiddled for a moment then said, “Easy to Tex, copy?” The frown disappeared and he smiled. “Yes, we’re both still alive, but I have a very big problem,” he said, his voice hushed.
He explained her panic and mad dash into San Agustin del Sur. She had no idea where she was. She knew nothing of the city’s neighborhoods. She was only supposed to be here for four days. She had definitely overstayed her welcome and she wanted to go home desperately.
Absently, she wondered about the belongings she’d left at the hotel, then she had to stifle an almost hysterical little laugh. What did clothes, toiletries, and shoes matter now? Although she would kill for a shower.
“Troops are expanding their search, and I’ll bet they’ve already cut us off from the coast.” He paused for a moment, then said. “No, the vehicle was boxed in and there was no way to retrieve it. That area is crawling with guards. No going back.” He paused, his eyes darting around the area, always looking for danger. “How are you faring?”
He gasped softly, and Jack looked at his face. Easy had been calm every step of the way to this moment, but the look in his eyes now? Devastation, utter pain, and devastation. She didn’t have a clue why, but he quickly pulled himself together and said, “Copy that, LT.”
Suddenly, she saw herself through her own mind’s eye, and she felt sick. Disheveled, her hair matted and filthy, her body covered in bruises, scrapes, and more filth. All her routines to keep herself groomed—perfect hair, perfect skin, perfect appearance—blurred, and there she was, the pathetic, mad, former saleswoman who had lost herself to the kind of panic she couldn’t ever anticipate, let alone experience.
She was her mom’s Little Engine That Could. Everything she had ever done had been from a competitive, striving, goal-oriented stance. Performing everything as close to perfect as possible had fueled her existence for as long as she could remember. The fuel motivating her had been the fear of not being outstanding, the fear of failing. To fail meant death, swallowed up by a black hole. She had avoided it at all costs.
She was failing here in such a big, overwhelming way. She tried to pull herself together; out of her element and being brutalized for two weeks couldn’t be used as excuses. She was better than that.
Her actions had terrible consequences for these men who had come to rescue her. She’d insisted on getting her heels because they were hers, and she had now put them both in more jeopardy, which was debilitating to her frayed senses and her traumatized mind. She tried to mitigate the shame of how she’d acted by grabbing for reasons. Her chin lifted as her eyes stung. She wasn’t a victim. She was going to participate in this rescue if it killed her…and her breath got trapped in her lungs. Because it very well could take her life. She could salvage her dignity and when she returned back to Dallas, she would show them, prove to them that she had been the one who had won that contract. All was not lost. She was not a failure. She could sell this. It’s who she was and what she excelled in. Instinctively, she clutched the bag with the heels inside, the concrete evidence of her success like a lifeline for her bruised ego.
“Copy that, LT,” Easy said, again, and while she had been ruminating about her shortcomings in this terrible living nightmare, Easy was doing his job. Damn the man was relentless, like a juggernaut of power and determination. Nothing seemed to stop him or deter him. Who was this guy who made her feel shamefully inadequate in participating in her own rescue?
“We’ve got to get out of the city,” he said, looking around, then spying something that caught his attention. He took off his pack and knelt down. He removed his helmet and radio, tactical vest, camo top, leaving him in a white T-shirt, then broke down his rifle. She watched the play of muscles across his broad back, beneath the cotton, his thick biceps bunching and flexing. Removing his sidearm, he unbuckled the holster. Stuffing everything into his pack, he swung it into place against his back, tucking the pistol into the waistband at the small of his back. Regardless of any weapons this man carried, he always seemed armed to her, and she couldn’t help noticing he had an amazing body, athletic and honed to perfection from what he did for a living. Sure, he was in the military. But none of that knowledge lessened the impact of him now that she wasn’t running for her life.She craved to have that power wrapped around her, inside her, erasing what Ramos had done to her, leaving her to feel in control and clean again.
“Follow my lead.”
