Ruck over his shoulder, he made his way in the light, drizzling rain across the plain.
Watching him move, the distancing growing between them, Kasra felt the raindrops thump against what was left of her courage. The fledgling hope she’d felt back at the safehouse for just a moment … It had taken on the weight of an anchor and dragged her back into its haunting depths.
Should have known better.
No man would want her. No man would see past the darkness that had devoured her life.
Why do you care? You do not need a man!
Perhaps, but in the safehouse … when he talked to her as if she were someone worth knowing, smiled at her as if she were someone he found pleasing, inquired of her as if he thought of her as someone intelligent, whose advice was sought … it had been very nice. That was when Kasra discovered that somehow, in the scorched life that had become hers, a small, raw patch of her once-innocent heart had survived.
A discovery made because of him. Because, the one man who would never want to be in her bed, had somehow found a way into that patch. And the hatred he spat in her face?
Quid pro quo, Handsome.
“There are six things the Lord hates, seven that are an abomination…”
“No, no no,” she muttered, keeping her head down. Those verses needed to take a backseat. For now.
Yet they forced their way forward all the same.“… a heart that devises wicked plans …”
Resisting the urge to stamp her foot or groan, Kasra hugged herself. It was not fair. How many times had wicked plans been carried out againsther? And those went unhindered.
She wanted to throw a fit. Growl. Rail at the heavens. But those verses … That little book forgotten one night on her table had gotten her to here. The girls free—most of them, anyway—effectively shutting down Roud. A victory she had not thought possible. And put her in the hands of the Americans.
That American.
Trudging behind him, she watched the morning light tease the glints in his dark blond hair.
It seemed fitting, justice. He had vowed she would pay … Would his thirst for vengeance change at all if he knew all she had done to free the girls? To strike back at Taweel …?
It does not matter.
She did not seek approval or reward for what she had done. It was just … penance, righting all the wrongs. If she survived, if Taweel and the German did not catch her, it would be a miracle. Then … then she would truly know Allah lived. But did she not already? Again, her gaze hit Rage.
Well, she knew theIblisexisted.
CHAPTERNINE
Kandahar Province, Afghanistan
Situation untenable. Sugar Daddy on prowl. Brass ticked. Collusion? Eyes out. Foamy zebra.
“Situation untenable? No duh!”Disbelieving the text, Range stared at his phone. What the heck was happening? Collusion—among who? Frustration spitting through his veins, he did his best to maintain his cool. He stopped, lowered into a crouch, and hooked his arms over his head. What were they supposed to do? Options were very limited, considering Americans were no longer supposed to operate in country.
“What is wrong?”
Not now, shrew. Teeth grinding, he just wanted to find a solution. Get the name, get rid of the madam. Foamy Zebra.
Son. Of. A. Biscuit.
He dropped to the ground and peered into the distance. Jazani’s escape clearly upset the big guy—bigGermanguy, aka Viper, according to her. And now the Brass was … ticked? Is that why Pike suggested collusion …? Between the U.S. military and Afghanistan? Or between Viper and the Brass? All of the above?
But … why would they all be ticked? What about the raid on Roud upset everyone? Bringing down the Trench—that was a good thing. Sure, Afghanistan couldn’t be happy to find out there were American operators in-country. But was that all? Or was there more going on here?
He rubbed his thumb over his lower lip, thinking. Jazani had said Captain Hellqvist had frequented Roud. Had other members of the Brass?
“I know you hate me,” came her soft voice, “but since we are both in this situation—whatever it is—please tell me what is wrong.”
