“Still no civilians,” Gael said, his voice clipped as he stepped back out into the clearing. “She’s not here.”
She has to be fucking here.
Rowan had to work harder than he’d liked to keep his pulse from spiking. He breathed and scanned the treeline again, searching for something, anything to let him know what had happened to Enya Moore and where to find her.
There.
He’d almost missed the narrow trail by undergrowth and a curtain of hanging moss and thick-leafed vines. “Two, Three, on me.”
“Yes, sir.”
“On you.”
CHAPTER TEN
Her whole worldhad narrowed to horror and pain. If she had anything left in her stomach, she’d be puking from the gruesome sight of Maria’s body.
Enya bit down the sob that heaved silently in her chest. Instead of punishing her for escaping, the horrible men had taken their anger out on poor Maria.
I’m so sorry, Maria.
God would have to be the one to forgive her, because she never would forgive herself for being the reason the other woman was dead.
She’d hear Maria’s screams and her pleas for her mama to save her, every time she closed her eyes for the rest of her days. Enya almost wished they had done everything where she could see, so she witnessed what had happened. Because what her imagination provided her with was horrific.
She’d learned over the last few days that when the sounds of the jungle night went quiet, bad things happened. When the chorus of insects stopped mid-chatter, Enya scrambled back into thecorner and wedged herself into the space between the wall and a crate. She drew her knees up and tried to make herself as small as possible. She knew it wouldn’t stop the men from finding her, but every second of respite she had was a second she didn’t have to face reality.
I want to go home.
Daddy, please find me.
Pleas—
“Got her.”
The first touch on her head, and Enya launched herself off the ground. She would never give in. Never. If they wanted her dead, then they would have to work for it. She closed her fist and swung hard, biting, screaming, kicking, and punching at the man who pulled her out of the corner.
“Hey. Hey. Enya. Damn it. Fuck. Ouch, goddammit.”
Hard hands managed to catch her wrists.
“Stop it, Enya, I’m trying to help you, damn it.”
Confusion bled with fear as her brain struggled to catch up with what was happening. She fought harder to get free. The man who held her shook her hard, and something snapped free in her mind. It was then she realized the voice had spoken in English. She stopped struggling and blinked at the dirty face of the man holding her. “What?”
The man peered into her face, “My name is Rowan. Your father sent me to bring you home.”
Am I dreaming?
Is this what dying is?
Your wishes come true?
“Daddy sent you?”
“Yeah.” The man helped her to sit down and crouched in front of her. “You’re safe. I’ve got you. You’re going home.”
Struggling to catch up, her voice cracked. “Maria?—”
