“I took a shot when I got the chance,” she snapped. “Why did you eat the food?”
“They held a gun to our heads,” Jackson admitted, groaning as he turned.
“Didn’t they do the same to you?” Harrison asked suspiciously.
“No. They slid it across the floor and left it,” she told him. “Do you have free hands?”
“No, genius. They tied him to the bed, and I’m in a chair,” Harrison informed her.
“We’re on the same team here. Maybe if I can get to you, we can get the knots undone,” she suggested.
“It’s no use,” Harrison replied. “They broke my hand.”
“Shit,” she mumbled. “Did you happen to hear when Hasan planned to show up?”
“No. They’ve stayed away from us for the most part. We get released long enough to use the bathroom, and they give us some rice shit,” Harrison informed her.
The material over her eyes pulled her hair as she attempted to remove it by rubbing against her shoulder. Rebecca refusedto allow Stills to get away with murdering them, even if it meant she scratched and clawed each one of the traitors outside.
“What’s your plan, Rhodes? We haven’t got a chance in hell of getting out of this,” Jackson said sadly. “Tell them where you took Avie and they’ll let us live. They only want the kid anyway.”
“When did they tell you they only want Deni?” she said, turning toward the bed.
“It’s not hard to deduce he doesn’t care about Avie after all this time. He didn’t order his men to find her while he sat in prison. It’s gotta be about the son,” Jackson guessed.
“Come on, Rebecca,” Harrison entreated. “If I’m about to die, I want to know what I’m giving my life up for.”
“And how does knowing her whereabouts matter if you’re dead?” she snapped. “It puts her in harm’s way when they torture it out of you.”
The door opened, and a man with a Middle Eastern accent entered. He ran his hand through her blonde hair, making her jerk away from him. It made him chuckle as he said something to the person beside him. A minute later, two men hauled her up from the floor and dragged her toward the living room. Rebecca twisted and bucked against their hold, causing the men to laugh.
Someone pulled the rag from her eyes, pulling out her hair. She blinked rapidly to keep the tears from her eyes. She stared defiantly toward the man as he regarded her.
“My men tell me you know where my cousin’s wife hides. You’ll tell me,” he said confidently.
Rebecca stubbornly held her chin high, refusing to answer.
“If you answer, I’ll let your friends go,” he bargained.
Yeah, right.He must’ve considered her stupid. She continued to stare him in the eyes.
“You know what my cousin does for business, do you not? You and your friend from Texas have caused him a lot of trouble. It’s time you repay him for his pain,” Hasan said smoothly. “Doyou not value the lives of your coworkers? How much do you weigh their friendship over a woman you barely know?”
“No matter how this plays out, we all know you’ll kill us,” she said. “We took an oath. I’m sure it doesn’t mean anything to you, but it does to us,”
Hasan grinned and turned, speaking to one of the men. His cohort walked down the hall to the room they dragged her from. Opening the door, he said something to her friends. Rebecca braced herself. They planned to shoot one of them to get her to save the other’s life. No matter how much they prepared her at the farm for this scenario, she kept reminding herself to show no reaction. Never give them what they want.
A minute later, Harrison strolled out with Jackson following him. Neither man appeared beaten or abused, despite the yelling and screaming she heard the day before. Her mouth dropped as Harrison stood beside Hasan and crossed his arms.
“We gave you every chance, Rebecca. Jackson convinced us you needed an incentive. You kept us on the run when you removed the tracker. It’s a good thing you called Stills, or this might’ve gotten awkward,” Harrison gloated.
Rebecca slowly put things together. The moved items in her apartment happened after she stopped there with Harrison to pick up a file. No one dared to question her partner for entering her office without her, giving him ample opportunity to access her computer. Her eyes roamed toward Director Jackson.
“How did they get to you? You took an oath,” she shouted at him.
Jackson stepped forward, appearing wrecked. “They knew about my wife and girls. When Trish’s medical bills piled up, I came home to find a man holding a gun to her head. He asked if I wanted him to put her out of her misery or if I wanted a second chance. I can’t let my girls grow up without their mother.”
“Think of your daughters. What if they trafficked them?” she demanded.
