Her cheeks pinked, telling him everything he needed to know about ever-so-practical, apparently detached Sable Alexandrovna.How long was she going to keep up the act?“I’m going to see Mara.Thanks for this.Much appreciated.You can find your own way back.”
“I could find my way to hell and back,” she assured him.
“Let’s hope that’s not necessary.”
He closed the door on who the fuck knew which version of Sable: calm and cold, or hot and hungry?Did he care?
Fuck yes, he cared.And cared more every minute.
* * *
She took time off from her duties for one vital mission.Elijah had waited a long time to properly reunite with Mara, and she didn’t want to miss it.There was a chance Mara might not want to be reminded of the past.Elijah was tough, but she’d seen him look at that photograph, as if it drove him to go further and work harder to help those who couldn’t help themselves.
At least he’d finally let Sable take care of his outward wound.As for his inner turmoil?She doubted anyone could predict how that would end.If she had any part to play in his future, she’d like to help him heal.
If he’d allow that, which she doubted.
At least he’d survived.So had all the team members, none seriously injured.Thank God for that.It could have been so much worse.
She took a last look around to make sure she’d cleaned up the medical bits and pieces, then gathered her belongings and left to see who she could help next.
* * *
The deck was nearly empty when he arrived to search for Mara.The crew was tidying up, and a quiet calm had settled over the ship.The engines were steady, and it was a good time to think, to confide.All the lights were low, and the vastness of the sea swallowed inconsequential noise.
And then he saw her.
Standing by the rail, Mara stared out to sea.She didn’t lean or sit, because standing and staying alert was safer.Spine straight, chin raised, weight evenly balanced on the balls of her feet, she was ready for anything.
Like him.
She seemed smaller than at the auction, and her long black hair was a mess after the chaos of the rescue, yet her hands, those no-nonsense hands he remembered so well from when she’d crafted toys from trash for him, were relaxed and steady at her sides.
He made a quick calculation that Mara must be thirty now.Her face was sharper, all angles and endurance.Simple gray sweats and borrowed sneakers took him back to the past, when new clothes were unknown to the two forgotten children.
She knew he was there.Instinct told Mara what her eyes couldn’t see.
He clenched his fists and didn’t relax until she turned and walked toward him.Halting in front of him, she lifted her chin, searching his eyes.“Elijah.”Her voice was soft and calm.“I knew you’d save me.”
“Your strength saved you.”
A faint smile acknowledged it, and they embraced.
Mara’s relief was obvious, while his concern only deepened.She was too thin and had seen too much.God only knew what she’d endured.
“Long time,” he breathed.He didn’t ask how she’d been, because that was painfully obvious.“How did you get here?”he asked instead.
“When I aged out of the foster system, like you, I had no safety net, family, or money.I bounced between low-paid jobs, cleaning, waitressing, and warehouse shifts.Rent for my single room had spiked, so I answered an ad for hospitality work overseas—good pay, travel covered.It sounded so exciting…”
“I’m sure,” he said gently when she trailed off.
“The job never existed,” Mara continued in a flat voice.“My passport was taken ‘for safekeeping’ on my arrival in Malta.”
“They took your passport?”His jaw tightened.“They preyed on the wrong woman.”
“The ‘agency’ turned out to be a trafficking front.By the time I realized that, I was already off-grid—one of the many ‘disappeared.’I was moved through encrypted networks and sold on, I arrived at the auction where you found me.”She laughed without humor.“Auction lot named: Ass ten.Prime stock.”
He cursed inwardly.“You survived.That’s all that matters.”
