Range cocked his head. “Why? You know how to fight.”
She stared at him for a weighted second, then stumbled on. “It was … safer.”
Notsafe. Safer. His mind went a dozen different directions with that. Seeing she needed a rest, he indicated her toward a slope where there they could rest and be hidden. “How so?”
“Let them think they had power and they were nicer, less prone to beat or abuse the girls.”
Or me. He had no idea how he heard that in what she left unsaid, but it was there, gaping between them. “That’s … sick.”
“Indeed, but it was also effective. Feigning compliance fostered their complacency. They did not see me as a threat.”
“And they were wrong.”
She lifted her eyebrows and shrugged.
He sat, knees bent, arms hooked over them. Eventually grabbed a protein bar. Only one left now. He snapped it in half and handed one to her. “The longer I am an operator, the more I think the depravity of men cannot surprise me.”
She drew out some jerky from her satchel and gave him some. “Some are truly horrific. Thankfully, Taweel was very severe on anyone who hurt the girls. Roud earned a … reputation.”
“How can you be thankful for that?”
“Very easily when you have been beaten to unconsciousness or worse.” She lowered her gaze, turning a piece of dried jerky. “It was my job to protect the girls, to make sure …”
Even in the darkness, he could see the emotion writhing through her pretty face.
She cleared her throat. Squinted. “So.” She bit into the jerky. “Will we sleep beneath the stars tonight?”
Aware of a rawness to her words, to a vulnerability he had only seen in the safehouse—when she’d seen the captain—he chose to draw down the questions. He retrieved his nocs and scanned the terrain. Saw … more of the same. Couple klicks out, there was a small structure. A stand of some kind, maybe a farmer selling his wares had built it. “There might be shelter.”
“I do not mind sleeping here,” she said, rubbing her legs. Likely exhausted.
“You will—the temps will drop and we won’t have any wind cover. You’ll be shivering worse than you were last night.”
She startled. “What?”
He smirked. “Your chattering teeth kept me awake.”
Eyebrows lifted, she sniffed a laugh. “I … I cannot believe I did not wake myself. I usually sleep so light, I heareverything. Likeyourgrunts.”
Range froze. Had some … impression of holding her hand … which rested on his chest. No, that was just a blurring from when she’d tried to wake him. “It’s been a rough trip for both of us. We’re exhausted.”
“Yes,” she agreed too heartily and peered to the sky. “The air is thickening—rain.”
“Yeah, noticed that, too. Let’s get to that stand before it hits. Otherwise, we’re going to be mud rats.”
They trudged on, but about halfway there, the sky cracked open its fountain and sent a deluge, drenching them almost instantly. “C’mon!” he shouted in frustration. Could they not catch a break. He angled to her and they hustled for a solid ten minutes, the ground slicking beneath their feet as they struggled through the wind and rain.
The stand door was padlocked. He shouldered into it, not wanting to break the hinges but trusting the old wood would yield. It surrendered and they rushed inside, laughing. The interior was no more than four feet deep and five feet wide. But it had a roof, though a leaky one, and the ground was mostly dry.
Kasra laughed, water running off her hair and dripping. Forming a mud puddle.
“You get to sit there,” Range teased.
She laughed harder. “That was … glorious!” But even as she said that, tremors rippled through her drenched form. She glanced around the confined space. “Will we stay here during the day?”
“Hope to be long gone by daylight. Hoping this is just a flash flood.”
Creak … creak …
