He stared at her, and she felt like he was studying her the way a predator watched its prey.“I have your cell phone.Your emails.Your texts.Your contacts.I’m aware of exactly how capable you are.You weren’t very smart following me though,” he added with a dark chuckle.
Her stomach dropped.
Nothing classified was on her cell phone, but it gave away plenty.She could play dumb and then—what?He’d hurt her.Force her.She could bide her time, but Quinn had a feeling this man was used to getting what he wanted one way or another.
“I have joined the movement here in Afghanistan,” he continued, sneering at her.“I am a true jihadist now, blessed by Allah.You crossed my path because he knew you were to be my wife—an American woman that I can mold and tame.You will forget your old life and be subservient to me now.”
He moved closer, and Quinn backed up, stumbling into the wall.
“Remove your clothes,” he told her.
Quinn froze, her heart pounding wildly in her chest.She needed to stall him.Question him.Do anything and everything to prevent what was about to happen.“My hands are tied,” she pointed out.
“So they are,” he said, moving closer.
Quinn trembled.It was hard to believe this was the same man who’d walked by her car back in Seattle.Things had seemed so normal then.He’d completely transformed during the flight here, ridding himself of his American persona and trying to blend in with the Afghans.
“What happened to the crates?”she asked, trying to distract him.“They were in the trunk with me.What did you do with them?”
He licked his lips, smiling.“They were sent exactly where they were intended.Just as you were sent where you were needed as well.”
She could see the ruddiness of his face as he inched closer.Smell the faint odor of sweat.Feel the heat from his body.She pressed back into the wall, her gaze darting around the small shack.He grew more excited the more fearful she became.Before she could utter another word, he pounced, ripping her shirt down as she screamed.His big hand covered her mouth, and Quinn tried to knee him in the groin, thankful her legs were free.He cursed, shouting, and the area outside the hut suddenly grew quiet.Quinn whimpered, trying to scream again, kicking at him again as she struggled.
His meaty hands pawed at her breasts, tugging at her bra.One moved to the waistband of her pants.
Tears streamed down her face as she tried to fight him, when two men suddenly burst inside, yelling in Farsi.
Her kidnapper cursed and stepped back, apologizing to them profusely.Quinn gasped and cried, trying to cover herself once more, her wrists still tied.
She watched the scene in confusion, trying to understand the dynamic.It seemed her American kidnapper was beneath them in the hierarchy at the camp.His angry glare shot to Quinn when they left.“We must be married first if this is to be a recognized union.”
He stormed across the space, grabbing a rope from a bag.She was too petrified to move and watched in horror as he returned, his intentions clear.
“Please don’t do this,” she pleaded.
He yanked her toward him, tying the rope securely around her waist before knotting it around the frame of the structure.He gave it a good tug, making sure the rope was secure, then turned and left without another word.
Quinn stood there in shock, her wrists bound, her shirt ripped open.Fresh tears fell down her cheeks.She yanked and pulled at the rope, trying to free herself.It likely wouldn’t have held any of the men on Bravo Team, but she didn’t have their strength.She pulled again, the roughness of the rope biting into her wrists.Quinn eyed the beam above her, wondering how to free herself.
Fresh horror washed over her.
She couldn’t escape.
She couldn’t move more than a few feet in any direction.And if someone came inside while her kidnapper was gone, she couldn’t get away from anyone else who wanted to harm her.
