It was too late now.
No. No, it was not. He would come.
No man will ever come for you except inthatway.
Rage would. He was not like the others.
No, he was worse.
You’re being irrational.
She heard a strange whine of a car engine and realized she’d stopped walking. Saw at the end of the block the tail of the police truck backing up into view again.
Kasra scrambled around the corner. Plastered herself against the wall that hemmed in the mosque. Listened over the drumming of her heart. Heard the car shift gears. Tires crunched over rocks, drawing closer.
A car leapt the corner. She felt it lurch toward her.
She fought the urge to run. Shifted aside, head down. She kept her gaze at an angle that allowed her to see to the road. It was clear straight ahead, if she had to run.
The door flung open. “Get in!” a voice commanded in Pashto.
Hisvoice.
She stared in disbelief at the vehicle. A black Toyota SUV. Then his face. She strangled a cry of relief and jumped in. Shut the door even as it surged forward. Took everything in her not to drop her face into her hands and cry. Instead, she shuddered a breath and reached with trembling fingers to the belt.
“What were you doing?” he snapped. “Making me call out put us at risk. Why were you—”
“You werelate!”
“Yeah, I had to disable the tracking first—wasn’t easy to do.”
Her panic was bottoming out, leaving her weak. “Why did you even steal another? Why not just buy gas for first one?”
“Someone berated me for stealing a car with lumpy seats.”
Kasra started, considered him. Had he really …?
He hooked his arm over the steering wheel. “The engine in the other was about to die. Ditched it before we got in trouble.”
So the new vehicle had nothing to do with her. It surprised how much that disappointed her.
His gaze skidded to hers and then back to the road as he navigated them back to Ring Road. Saw regret.
She must divert his attention. “The Afghan police—”
“Yeah.”
“I had to pace the mosque and men saw me and gave me terrible looks. Then I saw the police, and I worried but kept moving. Then they circled back and. I …”
“Hey.” His tone grabbed her attention. “Easy. It’s okay. We’re good.” He nodded, his expression earnest beneath that baseball hat. “You did good.”
She eyed him warily. In her world, praise always came with a catch. But none came. Saying thanks now seemed too late … and awkward. Though she knew it was adrenaline, she still felt shaky. Still felt relieved—grateful that he had showed up, saved her.
There was a time she would have been angry at the thought of beingsaved. She had never relied on a man for saving. Kasra glanced down, then saw her satchel. Remembered the food. Glad she had a way to thank him withoutthankinghim, she tugged it onto her lap and pulled out the box … which was crushed on one side. Groaning, she realized there was grease all over her hand. And in her bag, too.
Rage glance at it and frowned.
With care, she opened the box and angled it to him. “Falafel.”
