“I … I forgot about it. When you were dreaming and I tried to steady you, I just tossed it aside. Did not turn it off.” She looked pale. “It was a throw-away phone. I didn’t think—”
“The point of a throw-away is that you use it andThrow. It. Away!” He growled. “Destroy the SIM. We’ll throw the phones out at the river.”
She made quick work of removing the sim and breaking the phone. Then sat there, silent, hugging herself. “I am sorry.”
“That was a deadly mistake.”
“I know.” Her voice was small, and she seemed to shrink.
In the distance, he saw a glimmer. The river. As they crossed the bridge, he slowed and handed her the driver’s. “Throw them into the water.”
Kasra rolled down her window and pitched them over the side of the bridge.
“Any other phones or devices you’re hiding?”
“No.”
“I don’t want to get shot again.”
She dropped her face into her hands burst into tears.
Range huffed. It was just adrenaline making her cry. An adrenaline dump. Emotions skyrocket then hit rock bottom, making the person emotional. Nothing to say here. Nothing to do.
But it bugged him. He’d never seen her weep. Never seen herweak.
Elbow on the ledge of the window, he rubbed his temple as they blazed down the bumpy road, heading southeasterly. How were they going to get documents to get out of the country? What if they tried to cross somewhere that didn’t require documents? Less chance to get tracked down.
American military. Those local fighters they’d taken out … the operators at the airfield. Hellqvist, who’d seen Range with Kasra at the safehouse, had been to Roud. That meant the captain likely knew the name that Kasra harbored. Probably had a vested interest in that namenotcoming out.
Which made Range wonder—did this name connect some pretty important dots? Implicate some higher-ups in either JSOC or SOCOM. Or was it something else?
Who was the person that had so many people protecting them?
Man, his side was aching. Pressing his palm there, he felt the squish and a spike of pain. Winced. Probably should’ve taken time to pack it.
“Are you o—”
“Fine.”
She gave him a sorrowful expression. “I am truly sorry about the phone. I …”
Though he wanted to be angrier about it, he couldn’t. Even he hadn’t anticipated the local mercs coming after them. “We all make mistakes.”
“Why are you being nice to me? Do not be nice. It … scares me.”
“Not my anger?” he scoffed.
She kept her injured arm elevated. “Your anger has never frightened me. I … understand. It makes sense. It’s an armor around you, shielding wounds you nurse, ones you think make you stronger.”
“Don’t hold back. Tell me what you really think.”
“I do not mean to offend—I just … see through it,” she said, using her fingers to comb through her hair. “Somehow, it helps me understand you. I’ve been there. Felt it. Lived it.”
Range side-eyed her. “But not niceness?”
“People are only nice when they want something.”
Dang. “It sucks that you see the world like that.”
