Did it matter? He wasn’t sure, because when he’d uttered those words—“I do take Kasra Jazani as my wife”—some gear, some definitive life marker, thudded into place. He had literally felt it hit his chest. His heart. Changed him. How? He didn’t know. Just … did. Changed his mind. Changed what he …
Thought of her? Was that possible? Maybe his view had been transforming over the last ten days. The more he learned about her, her past, what’d happened to her …
What if I’m here for a reason. For her.
He snorted. Right. God sent him to Afghanistan to find and marry a notorious madam who traded in sex.
He seemed to recall a story in the Bible where that’d happened with some prophet.
He was no prophet.
What the freak am I supposed to do?
Shut up and drive. What happened in the mosque had no bearing on what needed to happen, the mission to carry out. Still had to get through Pakistan. Still had to find passage across the gulf to the UAE. Find a flight home.
With my wife.
Internally, he groaned. Veered his gaze in her direction. Saw her hand limp in her lap. Peered at her face. She’d finally fallen asleep. Gave him a chance to flick his gazes between the road and the assault she’d endured. Bruised. Split lip. Both eyes swollen. Cut above the left one that likely needed a butterfly stitch.
Never wanted to kill someone so much in all his life. She didn’t deserve that. Nobody did.
The farther he drove, the more he wanted to call Canyon, but he didn’t need to be mocked or lectured. But his brother was the only one with enough field experience to know what that ceremony meant legally. What to do. Ideas on getting stateside.
Kasra jolted awake with a cry.
“Easy,” he said quietly.
Looking around the terrain, she touched her face and stiffened. “Where are we?”
“Halfway to the sea.”
She sighed and slumped back in the seat. “Before … you said we had to hide in the daylight. Not now?”
“No choice. That video exposed us. We have to get ahead of it. Put as much distance as possible between us and them while we can.”
She said nothing, just stared out the window.
Which was better.
“His name was Calvin Hellqvist,” she said out of the blue. “He was an Army captain.”
He knew this. What was her point?
“The first time he came to the compound, Taweel was there, too. The two of them came to an arrangement … that Americans would look the other way and the captain could have his pick of the girls. After a while, I became his favorite. And it was better this way because he was not kind. At first, I thought he was very nice, handsome, but the more he came, the more his darkness came, too. He was manipulative, controlling … psychotic.”
Why the heck was she telling him this? He already wanted to kill the guy.
“Three years ago, he had just visited Roud then went back to America for a year. When he left, a girl discovered she was pregnant with his baby.”
“Not to be insensitive, but how did she know—”
“Because he bargained with Taweel that certain girls were only for him.”
“Son of a witch.”
“Yes.” She managed a smile—then winced at the pain of that facial expression. “In most brothels, the girls have abortions when things like this happen. But I had seen a girl die from one, so I provided every measure I could to ensure unexpected pregnancies did not happen. When they did, we would help the girl disappear. This girl, however, had no home, no family outside of Roud. We hid the pregnancy—it was such a miracle. Taweel had been traveling to see the Viper and things were quiet at Roud.”
Range tightened his grip on the steering wheel.
