Trevor pulls a small, black pouch from his pocket and crouches down. In a few seconds, the lock springs open. “I can’t let you out of my sight, Joey. He’d never forgive me. Stay behind me and keep quiet.”
A long set of stairs leads deep underground, and my heart thunders in my ears. The walls press in on me, and I try not to wheeze as I clench my left hand hard enough to break the skin. Focus. Ford’s here. And he needs you.
Trevor stops at a corner, then points to the left. Flattening myself against the wall next to him, I wait for him to verify no one’s waiting on the other side, then we take off at a run. His steps are almost silent. I’m not so graceful, and when he stops short, I slam into his back. My bruised ribs protest, but I manage to keep quiet.
Picking another lock with ease, he throws the door open and I clamp my hand over my mouth, tasting blood from the self-imposed cuts on my palm.
Ford.
I didn’t believe—not truly. I hoped, like I’ve hoped for so many things these past ten days, but I didn’t trust the universe not to pull the rug out from under me again. He’s here. Strung up by his wrists, his head bowed, eyes closed. Older. A bit of gray in his hair. But very much Ford. Very much the man I once loved.
Trevor moves quickly, finding a chair and going to work on the shackles holding Ford up. I rush forward to try to catch him as, freed, he sinks to his knees with a soft grunt, but I’m not fast enough.
He peers up at me, one eye swollen, and I reach out, my fingers trembling, to touch his stubbly cheek. “Ford.” I don’t know why he doesn’t touch me, but his eyes water, and what I see in their hazel depths…I never thought I’d see him look at me like that again. “Say something.”
“Later,” Trevor hisses. “We have to get out of here. Can you walk?”
As if he’s just remembered Trevor’s in the room, he blinks hard. “I’ll make it.”
“Lean on me,” I say, desperate to feel his arms around me after so many years apart.
“Are you sure?” His whisper is so hesitant, so filled with pain, and I take his arm and sling it around my shoulders. He’s a solid mass of muscle, and Trevor has to help him stand, but once he’s upright, he steadies.
“Nomar’s blown. Something about a complication he couldn’t ignore. We’re headed for the front gate. The bomb’s set to go off in six minutes. Can you shoot?” Trevor asks Ford.
He turns his gaze to me. “I can do anything. Now.”
As soon as Trevor presses a gun into Ford’s hand, we take off, and the warmth of the man at my side feels so reassuring, I want to cry. But I can’t. Not until we get out of here. Faruk has so many men…so much firepower, I don’t know how they’re planning on getting beyond the gate without us all being shot.
But they got in here. Maybe we can get out.
As if Ford can read my mind, he gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I found you, buttercup. We’re going to be okay.”
“Stop,” a deep voice says as a shadow crosses our path.
Trevor raises his gun. “Don’t move,” he growls.
Hands in the air, Isaad lowers his gaze. “I am no threat to you, but you cannot go this way. I monitor the cameras, and if I wait more than fifteen minutes to report a glitch in the feeds, he will…hurt me. Your other man is headed for the front gate, but there are too many guards between here and there. Come with me. There is an underground tunnel that leads out of the compound.”
“Fuck, no,” Trevor says and lunges for Isaad. But the guard sidesteps him, backing away with his hands still in the air.
“Please,” Isaad says. “Let me try to atone for my sins.”
“For your sins?” Ford straightens slightly, winces, and tightens his arm around my shoulder. “Your accent…you’re American, aren’t you? Isaad? Isaad what?”
Shouts come from the opposite side of the compound, and Trevor grabs my other arm. “We have to go. Now.”
“Wait!” Isaad hisses. “The doctor is wearing a tracking device.”
My entire body goes rigid as terror floods my system. “What? Where?”
“In the hem of your pants. He trusts no one. Not even his own men. Not even his wife.”
Trevor crouches and runs his fingers around the bottom of both of my legs. Yanking a knife from his pocket, he rips through the thin fabric and comes up with a small piece of plastic and metal the size of my thumbnail. “Shit,” he says as he drops the tracker then stomps on it and pins Isaad with a hard stare. “Why tell us?”
“Faruk took my name. And my honor. Let me earn a piece of it back.” Isaad drops to his knees and bows his head with his hand over his heart. “I will kill him for what he has done. Then…maybe my ledger won’t be so full of blood.”
Trevor and Ford exchange a glance, then Trevor mutters something I can’t make out under his breath. “Get up. Show us this tunnel. But if you’re lying to us, I’m putting a bullet in each of your kneecaps before I shoot you in the head.”
