Now those blue eyes danced with surprise. Perhaps even a tinge of regret. But it did not last long. This one liked to brood, feast on his wounds and anger, so she would make sure he was distracted with his selfishness so that he did not see her own brand of anger. And that started with Zaki.
CHAPTERTWELVE
Kandahar Province, Afghanistan
“I don’t needyour advice! I’ve survived men like you for the last ten years.”
Men like him. Those words had concertina wire wrapped around them, shredding his pride. Exactly what had that meant? He’d gotten her away from the compound, taken her to friends for supplies, endured a lecture by a man who knew nothing about him. Stole a different car—because she complained about comfort. Had nothing to do with the engine—it'd been fine. He thought it’d amuse her. Instead, it’d embarrassed him when she grumbled about it. Then, he’d saved her life last night, stitched up her arm. Gotten her to safety. Instead of trying to take his gun, she should be thankful.
For treating her with disdain and ridicule the whole time?It was something Willow would slap him with, if she were here.
He was stuck with her. No—it was worse than that: he was now responsible for her. And if he focused on her trade, he’d never get past it. And it’d be a miserable freaking week, if not longer.
“Tread carefully, little brother.”Canyon’s words haunted him as the sun nestled into the horizon.
Just like always—family ganging up on him. Couldn’t do anything right.
Ready to get moving once light faded, he packed up the canvas, netting, and ruck. “Where is your friend who can help us?”
Mouth tight, holding her arm—blood was seeping through the bandage—she would not meet his gaze.
On his knees, Range hung his head. Got a whiff of himself and struggled not to cringe. “Look.” He ran a hand down the back of his neck. “You … startled me awake. Never a good scenario in a situation like this.”
Her gaze skipped around the darkening cave.
Play nice. She’s wounded.“I need to know where he lives so I can plot our course. Figure out if there’s somewhere to get another vehicle.”
“You meanstealanother one.” More accusation.
He shirked it off. “Borrowa comfortable one.”
A furtive glance came with a twitch at her lips. A near smile. “You are very good with words, saying what you do not mean.”
Do not react. Do not react.“Your friend …?”
She stared at him for a long minute, then sighed. “Zaki lives in Wesh.”
“Wesh? As in Spin Buldak District?”
She stared at him blankly.
“On the border of not-so-friendly Pakistan.” He dropped onto his backside and bit down on another curse.
She shrugged. “By car, I could make the trip in a couple of hours.”
“From Kandahar.”
She nodded, and then her eyes widened in understanding.
Yeah, exactly. Wesh was about a twenty-four hour journey on foot from Kandahar. But they had gone west for a full day to hook-up with Omen, only to get burned. They’d headed back and made up some of that distance, but not enough for this to be a quick trip. It put them a full three days on foot to Wesh.
“And you’re sure he’s a safe place to go?”
Her gaze darted around, then she shrugged. “He is my only friend I trust.”
“Wesh it is.” Range dug into his pack and grabbed one of the last three MREs. He handed her one. “Eat. We set out within the hour.”
She took it, flinching in pain—her arm.
