Reclaimed (Hostage Rescue Team Series Book 10) (14 page)

Adam had made it clear that he didn’t want her to go. But if it’s what she needed, then he said he understood. That made it even harder to go.

She still loved Adam, would always love him, but she was too angry and hurt and sad to stay. For months now she’d been constantly torn, not knowing how or even if she could ever open herself back up to him again, while at the same time knowing it wasn’t fair to keep punishing him over and over by continually pushing him away.

No, this was the right move, for him as well as her.

It had taken her months to come to this decision, after she’d weighed it over endlessly in her own mind and sought counseling advice about it. Even though she was ready to take this next step, the thought of settling into the one-bedroom apartment she’d rented across town was both scary and exhilarating.

She’d needed to make a big change, do something drastic to jerk her out of the mental hole she’d fallen into and couldn’t seem to climb back out of. Moving out on her own was the only thing she hadn’t tried yet. It had to work, because nothing else had and she didn’t know what else to do.

Looking around the bright, tidy kitchen, she felt mostly relief that she was leaving, but there was sadness too. This had been her home for years now. She’d cooked countless meals in here, baked her grandmother’s banana bread recipe that Adam loved. They’d painted the place together right after they’d moved in. They’d made love on the rug in front of the fireplace and on the kitchen table.

So many memories were imprinted in these walls. For a long time, it had felt like those walls were closing in on her, squeezing and trapping, the once happy memories slowly crushing her under a weight of resentment and grief.

She blew out a breath. “Time to go,” she said to herself, stopping the negative train of thought in her head. It took constant effort to do it, to snap herself out of the line of thinking that had become as familiar as breathing over the past two years.

Lifting the last box from the center island, she stopped short when she saw the note Adam had left for her beneath it.

I love you.

That was it. Just three words, not even his name beneath them.

The sight of it made instant tears blur her eyes.
Oh, Adam…

They’d both agreed it was probably better that she move out while he was away for work, so it was less painful. He’d flown out of town on a training mission this morning. But now she realized that leaving was going to hurt no matter when she did it, and whether he was here or not.

This
hurt
. This
sucked
. But it had to be done.

She didn’t want to admit their marriage was over, that she’d had preliminary separation papers drawn up. At this point she wasn’t even sure what had kept her from going through with the legal separation, to be honest. Some part of her simply refused to accept the idea of losing him forever, she guessed.

Except she couldn’t see them ever reconciling after this. Adam saw her leaving as a proverbial line in the sand. Once she stepped over it…

She pushed aside the tiny voice of fear in her head. The one that warned her there was no going back once she left.

Her fingers shook slightly as she picked up the note and slipped it into her pocket. “I still love you too,” she murmured into the empty kitchen.

But unfortunately, love wasn’t enough. Not for her. Not for him. And she couldn’t stand to hurt him anymore by staying.

Better to yank the bandage off in one shot, rather than little by little.

Steeling herself, Summer turned off the light on her way out and locked the door behind her.

****

Present day

Tarek paused in reading the contents of the file he’d opened on the laptop twenty minutes before, a new, deeper rage burning inside him. Because of the translation it had taken him a while to figure out the specifics detailed in the document before him, and now that he had…

He turned his head to aim a lethal glare at the female captive. She was seated against the wall, her knees drawn up, her cheek resting on them. Asleep now, exhausted from the constant questions he’d thrown at her, and because of the sleep deprivation they’d subjected her and the others to.

“Wake up,” he snapped.

Her lids flashed open, her eyes blurry with sleep as she focused on him. He saw the moment she was fully aware of where she was. She stiffened slightly, her lips pressing together in a mutinous expression he longed to wipe off her pretty fucking face.

Soon enough, he would.

He jabbed a finger at the screen. “This report. It says there are spies in our network.”

She didn’t answer, just stared back at him with that defiance burning in her blue eyes that made him want to break her.

“Is it true?” he demanded. “
Answer
me,” he barked when she didn’t respond right away.

“I only know what it says in the report.”

Oh, she knew far more than that. He had no doubt.

The urge to take out his knife and cut the answers out of her was nearly overwhelming. With effort he reined it in, forced himself to pull in a slow, even breath. He would not let this bitch best him. Her little act of defiance was nothing. And she would soon learn the true meaning of pain.

The thought sent a pleasurable shiver rocketing down his spine.

He’d learned enough to know that he had to be careful. Even more careful than he had been. If spies had infiltrated their ranks, he couldn’t trust anyone.

He turned off the laptop and shut it with a thud. For all he knew the Americans might be able to trace a signal to it somehow, even though he wasn’t connected to the internet. He’d send it with Akram tomorrow, have him deliver it to one of the generals across the border. Tarek would be there in person soon enough.

The woman continued to stare at him, wary, watchful. He thought of his dead fiancée and family. His parents and siblings. All killed when their village had been destroyed by an American and Jordanian airstrike.

Beautiful, innocent and God-fearing people, obliterated in the blink of an eye. Blown into so many pieces that there was no way of identifying the remains except for DNA testing, which there hadn’t been any time for.

The bits of flesh and bone Tarek and the other rescue members had been able to find in the smoldering rubble had been hastily buried in a pit on the outskirts of the village. His entire world had been leveled that night. His home, his family, the woman he loved, all taken from him. And the Americans had the nerve to say the ATB were the evil ones?

He narrowed his eyes at the woman, his breathing speeding up as the anger took hold.

It wasn’t right that this American bitch, with ties to the very same intelligence agency that helped plan air attacks like the one that had taken everything from him, should live.

“Your country took everything from me,” he told her, his voice shaking at the horrors he’d seen that night. He would never forget the smell of burning flesh, the acrid stench of the buildings as they smoldered around him. He’d never get it out of his nose, out of his mind. Vindication made his heart race. “And so I’m going to take everything from you.”

A shadow of fear flickered in her eyes, and a rush of triumph roared through him, so powerful it made him dizzy. She probably feared he or the others would rape her.

He wouldn’t tell her it was unfounded. That neither he nor any of his men would lower themselves and risk tainting themselves with her infidel flesh.

He stopped and sucked in a deep breath, reminding himself that vengeance was only hours away. “Get her out of my sight,” he commanded one of his men.

Tarek didn’t look at her as she was yanked to her feet and shoved through the door, on her way back to her cell. His jaw flexed, the urge to throw something almost getting the better of him. Until this war he’d never known that he could hate so completely. That he would be able to take a human life without a single pang from his conscience.

But this rage was all-consuming. It fueled him, kept him going even when all seemed lost. And combined with Allah’s will, it gave him the strength to do what must be done.

Summer Blackwell and the others were already living on borrowed time. Tomorrow he would make the video. After that, she would have only hours to live.

He couldn’t wait to hear her screams.

It was two in the morning by the time Nate finally made it up to his hotel room. He’d been looking forward to spending time alone with Taya all day but they’d been working late again. They’d just come back from a recon op at a village up north, but again, no dice.

Everyone was frustrated and Blackwell, quiet and stoic as he was, had to be close to the breaking point. Anyone in his position would be. Hell, Nate remembered too well the sickening horror he’d felt when Taya had been taken at gunpoint when she’d showed up to testify at the Qureshi trial. And that had only lasted for a matter of hours, not days.

He opened the door as quietly as he could, expecting Taya to be fast asleep.

Stepping inside, he was surprised to find a lamp on low in the corner of the room. Both queen size beds were empty.

His gaze flew over to the window and found Taya curled up in the armchair there. She had a book on her lap and coloring books and pencils scattered on the floor around her. Apparently she’d been keeping herself busy after her long day of meetings with Director Foster.

She looked up, gave him a relieved but tired smile. “Hey,” she murmured.

He shut the door and crossed the room to her, smiling in turn. “What are you doing up? You’ve gotta be exhausted from the jet-lag and all.” Not to mention the nature of the meetings today. It had to have been hard on her emotionally.

“Couldn’t sleep until I knew you were okay.” She shook her head as she put the book aside and stood. “Wanted to wait up for you.”

Nate drew her into his arms and exhaled a deep sigh. He was so lucky to have her here, to be able to hold her like this. She pressed tight to him, wrapped her arms around his ribs and rested her head on his chest, the familiar scent of her shampoo teasing him.

His gaze slid to the book she’d been holding, and he realized it was her journal. He knew what it contained, understood what her working on it signified.

Hell.

Being here had obviously triggered a lot of shit for her. Shit he wished he could erase from her memory forever, but he couldn’t. And God knew, he still had the remainder of his own baggage to deal with. Since they’d gotten together he was handling it a thousand percent better than he had been, but it was still there. This trip had made it worse for her.

He hugged her harder, hating that she was hurting inside, that she’d been dragged into this. “Rough day, huh?”

She nodded, her cheek rubbing against his shirt. “Any luck with you guys?”

“No.” This whole situation had triggered the specters from his past as well.

He was lucky that they’d been in briefings and on recon missions most of the day, because it gave him something to focus on. The less time he had to be in his own head, the better. Having Taya here soothed him on the deepest level. She had a way of silencing the constant chatter in his head that he couldn’t explain.

She made a sympathetic sound, rubbed a hand over his back as though he was the one in need of comforting. “How’s Adam?”

“Shredded.” Honestly, Nate didn’t know how Blackwell was even hanging in there at this point. The guy had barely slept since Summer had been taken. He was functioning, steady on the job when they were out on recon, but barely himself. Both DeLuca and Tuck were keeping a close eye on him.

“God, I feel horrible for them both.”

“Yeah, it sucks.” Classic Taya. Worried about others when she’d just been put through an emotional meat-grinder herself. He put a knuckle beneath her chin, tipped it upward so that she met his gaze. “What about you?”

Staring up at him with those pretty gray eyes, she gave a half-shrug. “I’m okay. It was just hard, dredging up all those things. All the memories again.”

“I’ll bet.” Traumatic memories like that and the flashbacks they brought made everything feel fresh and raw, as though it had all just happened rather than years ago.

Taya knew that better than anyone. And yet she hadn’t hesitated to come here and help, even knowing what she’d face. Was it any wonder why he loved her so much? “I heard the director said you’ve been a big help so far.”

“I don’t feel like I did much. Mostly just identifying people and the connections between them. I saw…two men who were part of Qureshi’s inner circle while I was captive. In a way it was therapeutic, I guess, but looking at them in the flesh again even via video call was really hard.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“If it helped the analysts at all, then I don’t mind. Just wish I could be more of a help and find out something that would tell them where Summer and the others are being held. From what I found out today about his predilection for torture, Tarek Hadad sounds like he’s pure evil.”

“I know.” Anyone capable of torturing innocents the way he reportedly did meant he was a formidable enemy. Negotiations would never work. The only way to stop him was to kill him.

But Nate didn’t want to think about any of that right now. Not with Taya all warm and pliant in his arms.

He lowered himself into the armchair and tugged her down into his lap, cuddling her to him. He didn’t want to talk about any of this; he’d rather push it all aside for now and lose himself in her. Because all this shit would be right there waiting for them when they woke up in the morning.

He stroked a hand over the thick, curly mass of her hair and breathed in her fresh, clean scent. Neither one of them said anything, just soaking in the comfort of being close to one another. She was only a few years older than him, but her emotional maturity made her seem wise beyond her years. The result of having survived the hell she’d gone through.

Even after a shitty day like this one, her mere presence still calmed him. She had a way of making the rest of the world disappear just by being in the same room as him.