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He chuckled at that. Mercedes’ team had researched him, they’d obviously known he was from a horse ranch in the south and would be drawn to a cowgirl.
“Let’s do it,” he said. He did reach for her hand then. She flinched slightly at his touch but then she relaxed. Was she afraid of his size or was there something else that made her leery?
She glanced up at him, as if trying to puzzle him out. He smiled and that may have confused her even more. Everyone seemed to be surprised by the hulking giant and decorated special ops major, who always had a grin on his face. Even the Syrian war lord who’d tortured him couldn’t stop him from smiling. Until he started killing his men … He shoved those memories away and somehow held his smile.
He directed Rose toward the door.
“Good luck! We’ll see you Saturday night if not before. Hugs and kisses and prayers!” Mercedes called to their backs.
They both looked back and Rose waved with her free hand. Bennett tilted his chin up. He caught Shawn’s penetrating gaze and hoped he’d have a chance someday to fight that guy. It wouldn’t be an even match, but very few were that Bennett was involved in. Unless every one of his limbs were chained tightly to the ground. Again he had to yank himself away from the painful remembrance. Rose’s hand in his helped.
He turned forward, walked with Rose to the door, pulled it open and held it. Air conditioned air poured out. It smelled … awful. Like meat left out in the sun.
“Goodbye, fresh air,” Rose said mournfully.
He laughed, though he agreed. “A country girl shouldn’t be trapped inside a building?”
“Exactly. Blue skies, the scent of sage and pine, prairies and mountains to roam on MaryLou’s back.”
“I’m hoping MaryLou is your horse and not your sister.”
She laughed out loud at that. He hadn’t heard her laugh yet. It was the sound of heaven, the most soothing balm. That laugh might heal even an injured warrior like him.
“You never know.” She winked and the tropical sun somehow brightened. “Let’s do this.”
She started to step into the dimly lit stairwell.
“Please let me,” he said, stepping in front of her while still holding the door ajar.
“I don’t think something’s going to attack us on our first step in.”
“You never know.” He didn’t want to risk glancing back at her. He couldn’t see any danger. It was a cement stairwell. About six by six. There were two backpacks sitting on the opposite side of the landing.
Bennett eased in front of her, guided her in next to him, and released the door. It slowly swung shut, on some kind of slow hinge. He smiled and took another step, reaching for the larger backpack.
The door closed, he heard a click, and they were plunged into darkness.
“Bennett?” Rose squeaked, clutching his forearm.
“It’s okay. I’m sure there’s a flashlight in one of the backpacks.”
He heard the clang of a door opening below and his neck prickled. The soft padding of steps, or was that paws, came on the concrete at the bottom of the stairwell.
He grabbed at the backpack, yanked it open, and started shuffling blindly through it for a gun or knife, but he wouldn’t reject a flashlight either. The smell of rotting meat grew stronger.
“Bennett?” Rose’s voice was a terrified whisper.
“Stay behind me,” he commanded back. “See if you can find a flashlight or a weapon in the other backpack.”
“Okay,” she squeaked out.
The padding of something on the stairs grew closer and the panting of an animal. A slight clacking accompanied every move. Whatever the animal was, its claws were long and sharp.
Bennett’s hands pushed past clothes, granola bars, water bottles, they’d promised him weapons.
A howl yipped through the air and his skin prickled.
“Bennett!” Rose cried.
