Maximum Risk (3 page)

The only time they’d given her food or water was when she began to pass out. And then it was moldy or stale, only enough to sustain her. She’d forced it down because she needed to keep her strength up, but most times her stomach rejected it.

She quickly took a drink to take her mind off it. Salt hit her tongue and she grimaced, thrusting the canteen back at him. “It’s got salt in it.”

He pushed it back. “It will rehydrate you. Do you think you could eat something?”

The thought of food made her stomach revolt. “Not right now.”

His deep green eyes studied her closely. She took another sip of the disgusting saltwater to distract him. It worked. He reached into his bag and handed her a white pill.

“What is it?” she asked warily.

“Ranger candy.”

At her look, he clarified. “Eight-hundred milligram Motrin. It’ll help with the pain.”

And give her a stomachache if she took it on an empty stomach. The reason he offered her food first.

“Maybe I could eat something.” She accepted the tablet. The sooner she got her strength back, the sooner she’d get back to her life. She’d choke it down if it meant getting those books delivered.

He reached into his bag and pulled out a pouch that had a brief, sharp odor when he tore it open. A couple seconds later, he handed it to her.

“What is this?”

“MRE—Meal Ready to Eat. Chicken and rice, I think.”

She took a bite, forcing the warm food down. All she could handle was two bites before she put it on the ground beside her. Then she squeezed her eyes closed and swallowed the pill with the saltwater. If it would help ease the pain in her body, she would take it no matter how bad it tasted.

“I need to assess your injuries.”

Unease skittered down her spine. She didn’t want him to see what they had done to her. Didn’t want that part of herself exposed. What she’d endured was hers and she didn’t want to share. Not with a stranger, not with anyone.

“Are you a doctor?” she asked. No reason for her to reveal herself if he wasn’t qualified. She prayed he wasn’t qualified.

“I’m a PJ—Pararescue Jumper, personnel recovery specialist. We are the most highly trained emergency trauma specialists in the military. My paramedic license is current, if you’d like to check my credentials.”

Damn. Definitely qualified. “You introduced yourself as Wolff Securities.”

He nodded. “I’m retired from the Air Force. Wolff Securities is a private security firm I started four years ago with my brothers.”

“Bodyguards?”

The corner of his mouth tilted in the sexiest half-smile she had ever seen. Attraction stirred in her belly, catching her completely off guard. She dropped her gaze from so he wouldn’t see.

“Yeah, bodyguards,” he mused.

And much, much more than that, his smile indicated, but she didn’t press.

Avery’s lids began to droop. She pried them back open, more out of habit than necessity. They had come into her room at all hours of the day and night to keep her off guard. Only the window kept her balanced. Well, as much as she could be while they beat her to keep her from escaping.

They’d only allowed her to try that once.

The repercussions were too severe for her to think about.

She shuddered.

“Here, lie down.”

Her eyes snapped open at the sound of Quinn’s deep voice.

“Get some rest.” He took the canteen out of her hands.

With a nod she lay down, too tired to care how hard the ground was or how her body ached. Quinn rolled a t-shirt and placed it under her head to use as a pillow, then covered her with an olive colored blanket. She had never been pampered a day in her life and it surprised her how easily she put herself in Quinn’s capable hands. Not a habit she could get into.

“I just need a few minutes,” she murmured as exhaustion pulled her down.

****

Quinn sat back on his haunches and scrubbed a hand down his face. Avery slept soundly. He wanted to tend her other injuries, but sleep would heal her body faster than anything he could do.

Escape and evasion would be slow going with her injured feet. Without boots to protect them, it would be agony for Avery. Even with boots, walking would be difficult. Running, out of the question. He would carry her.

Quietly, he packed up the supplies and sat down a few feet away from where Avery slept. He snapped off the penlight, his NVGs next to him in case he needed them before his eyes adjusted to the dark.

Avery whimpered. Seconds later, a stifled scream.

Quinn repositioned to where she lay and put a hand on her shoulder.

She flinched and tried to scoot away. “Please. No more,” she moaned.

A nightmare. Instead of waking her, he stretched out on the ground and pulled her into his arms. The last thing he wanted was to wake her and make her remember. Bad enough she couldn’t escape her torment even in sleep.

He wrapped one arm around her waist, using his other arm as a pillow. She lashed out, her nostrils flaring as she drew in deep, gasping breaths.

“Avery, it’s Quinn.”

“PJ,” she murmured and instantly settled down. Her body relaxed and little by little her breathing slowed.

Quinn rested his chin on top of her head. More protective urges surged through him and he shifted a little closer.

“What did they do to you, Avery Marks?” he murmured.

****

An hour before dawn, Quinn slipped away from Avery, gathered his rucksack, and touched her shoulder.

She came awake instantly, eyes darting around the small space. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. We’re leaving.”

“Oh. Okay.” She sat up and gripped her head with a low groan.

“Headache?”

“Yes, but I’m fine. We can go.”

Quinn put a hand on her shoulder. “We have a few minutes. Eat this first.” He thrust an MRE towards her, already opened and heated.

With a grimace she did as told, wrinkling her nose as she sipped the saltwater canteen. To her credit, she finished all of it without complaint. She handed it back to him and he disposed of the package before passing her a pain reliever.

“Ranger candy?” she asked with a small smile.

“For the headache.” He watched her swallow the pill with a swig of water and another grimace. Not that he blamed her. Warm saltwater tasted awful.

“Avery, I need to know if you have any other wounds.”

Her gaze dropped to the canteen she gripped in her hands. “No. I’m fine.”

Quinn reached out and captured her chin with his hand. He forced her to meet his gaze. “Are you trying to convince me or you?”

She jerked out of his grasp. “I said I’m fine. Can we go before the bad guys find us?”

Beneath the bravado lay a scared woman, but Quinn gave her the benefit of doubt and let it drop. Pushing her would only make her dig in her heels. He needed her to trust him, not pull away.

He slung the rucksack over his back, and helped her out of the hidesite. “I’ll carry you.”

Her brows rose and she held up a hand. “No, I can walk.”

His gaze dropped. “Your feet are shredded. The bandages won’t offer much support and I don’t have a spare pair of boots.”

“I’m—”

Frustrated by her stubbornness, he interrupted. “Fine, yeah, I got it.” He began walking away, the cool morning air not nearly as chilly as the glare he felt on his back. Minutes later she spoke.

“So you have a plan to get me back to Furkat?”

“I have a plan to get you home.” The nearest extraction point was halfway down the mountain and he had to get her there by o-thirteen-hundred. He’d made contact with his brothers early this morning while Avery slept. The time frame would be rough for Avery, but there weren’t many places to land a chopper on a mountain.

“Home? No, I have to go back to Furkat. There’s a shipment coming in. I still have work to do.”

He stopped abruptly and turned to face her. “My job is to bring you home and that’s what I’m doing.”

Her chin lifted at a mutinous angle. The sun peeked over the mountain and bathed her coppery hair in a warm glow.

“Well, I don’t need your services any longer. You can go.”

Quinn quirked a brow as she brushed past and limped down the mountain. Did she really think she could dismiss him and he’d let her go?

In two strides he caught her elbow. “Have you forgotten about the small army hunting you?”

Her silver-flecked eyes flared with anger. “Of course I haven’t forgotten. My life doesn’t stop because some Islamic extremists don’t like me teaching their girls to read. Their plan failed.”

He frowned. “What plan?”

She pulled her arm free. “Never mind. Look, I’ll cover your costs. Now go away.”

She started off again and he stared after her, dumbfounded. Five strides and he blocked her path. “You really think I give a shit about the money?”

Her eyes narrowed, but she didn’t look away.

“I watched an army of men force you off a sixty-foot ledge into the Ibi River, which damn well should have killed you. Add to that your bare feet and bruising and you’ve got one hell of a bad situation.”

“My feet?” she asked, looking down. “What do my bare feet have to do with anything?”

“Terrorists like to remove their prisoners’ shoes upon capture so that they don’t run away.” He leaned closer until their breath mingled.

Something deep and haunted flashed in her eyes before she took an abrupt step back and schooled her features. “This is a waste of time. I need to get to Furkat, not stand here arguing with you.” She held up a hand and it was then he noticed the tan line on the ring finger of her left hand.

Avery Marks was engaged, because there wasn’t any record of her being married. A damn good reason to tramp down those protective urges that threatened to turn into something more.

“Look, I appreciate what you did for me, but I have a life to get back to, so thank you, and goodbye.”

Quinn watched her once again go her own way, her back to him as she hobbled down the footpath.

He called after her. “Why are you so determined to get rid of me, Avery?”

****

Avery stopped abruptly as Quinn’s boldly spoken question cut down her spine. The reason? Simple. Quinn Wolff saw too much and that made her vulnerable. She didn’t like being vulnerable. The best thing for her to do was go her separate way, find her way down this godforsaken mountain, follow the river to Furkat, and put the past three days behind her.

Three days…               

No, not going there. Never again. She was Avery Marks, humanitarian aid worker and founder of Books for Change. Not the woman who’d spent the last three days in a cramped room being beaten for who she was and what she stood for. No one would ever know that woman, because the instant she’d escaped from the back of that supply truck, Avery left her behind.

She hadn’t spent the better part of her life teaching girls to read just to be beaten down by the very people she fought against. And she wasn’t giving Quinn Wolff with his uncanny perception another chance to see inside her. He’d already seen too much.

Once she got to her hotel, she would rest and put this behind her. Then disappear in the wilderness village of Bil where no one knew her. Or would find her. Work always grounded her. The bad guys would think she’d never made it out of the river and she could continue her work. Keep her promise.

Her shoulders slumped. As much as she wanted to believe that, she wasn’t naïve. She’d escaped. She knew about their sex slave trade. Had pictures of them on her computer. They wouldn’t stop until they found her body.

Not even in that room had she felt so trapped. She wanted to separate herself from Quinn before he learned her secrets, yet he could get her safely off this mountain. Depending on others wasn’t something she did well. He already guessed the reason she was barefoot, even if she hadn’t confirmed it. He was a military man; he knew.

In truth her feet were killing her. Every step was agony. Angry tears sprang to her eyes. She blinked them away. Bastards didn’t get to make her cry. She’d cried enough when her parents were killed in a car accident and when her aunt didn’t want her. Tears didn’t change anything. They only showed weakness and gave others a reason to pounce on you. Kick you when you were down. She’d learned that lesson long ago.

“Avery.”

Her name passing through Quinn’s lips sent a spark down her back that took root in her stomach. Of all the inappropriate times for attraction to ignite. So soon after her breakup with Tim. What was wrong with her?

She’d loved Tim. He’d always treated her like a princess when she made it home. Pampered her with lavish gifts, took her out to fine restaurants, operas. Introduced her to art museums and culture she’d missed growing up. Sometimes she suspected he did it to make up for her childhood, but never voiced it. In truth, she didn’t think she appreciated the fancier life as much as he did. Not after spending so much time in third-world countries. It felt more like a betrayal. Hence, their last dinner and Tim’s ultimatum. She hadn’t seen it coming and it hit like a punch in the chest. When she walked out of the restaurant minutes later she hadn’t looked back. She would break her promise for no man.

Damn Quinn for being so solid and strong and making her compare him to Tim. He could carry the weight of the world on those broad shoulders. He could carry her.

Where did that come from? Dismayed, she pushed the thought away.

“We’re exposed here. We need to move toward the extraction point.”

What choice did she really have? Her energy levels were dangerously low, her feet injured, her body battered. She could follow the river to Furkat and hope to evade the army chasing her, but reality said she would never make it on her own.

Quinn was her best option if she wanted her life back.

With a nod, she relented.

Hours later, and despite the light pace she knew Quinn set for her, she could barely keep up. She heard him talking quietly, like he often did, through a small mic near his mouth. When he turned to speak to her she hardly noticed, assuming he still communicated with whoever was at the other end of the device.