Red Zone (Red Zone 1)

“Of course I’m pleased we made it past the border. I just thought we’d get through it in some magical way—like the way the scorpions keep away from you. Instead you bribed someone to open the barrier. Anybody could do that.”

“Yeah, but it isn’t just anybody who could have come through the Red Zone first before they made it past the barrier. There’s a reason we can get through in this spot—nobody expects anyone to come in from the Red Zone. It wouldn’t be so easy to bribe a border agent at one of the main crossings, away from the mist. I’m beginning to think you take my abilities for granted. You’re becoming hard to impress, chère.” His sparkling eye told her he was teasing. Yet another type of interaction she’d never experienced before meeting this strange and delightful man.

“Fix the seats, Mace,” Striker said. The hover vehicle was large, the type where you could rearrange the seating to suit yourself. “Give us a bench seat up front.”

“Fine by me. I don’t want her behind me anyway.” He stuck his head through the door of the vehicle.

Friday glared at this back. “Do we have to take him with us to Monterrey? Can’t he walk back to the caves? I’m sure he’d be happier there.”

Striker shook his head and tugged her against him. She went willingly, reveling in the sensation. He was tactile, needing to touch, and she was desperate to be touched. It was as though her skin were a desert and he was some much-needed rain. She hadn’t been joking when she’d mentioned their team seemed like family. Just watching how they’d reacted with one another made her ache for everything she’d never had. She would have loved a family, any family, taking any form. What Striker and his team had was special, made even more so by the fact they’d been through a great deal to get there.

“Are you two going to snuggle all the way to Monterrey?” Ape-man complained.

“Yes.” She challenged him to do something about it.

“You know, this must have been how my poor Maman felt when she had to referee between me an’ my sister. This sibling rivalry is getting old. How about the two of you give it a rest until we hit Monterrey.” Striker let her loose and threw his backpack into the car.

Friday froze, struck dumb by the sibling comment. There was a desperate ache inside her, a longing for exactly that, a sibling to argue with.

“Come on.” He tugged at her arm. “You need to get some sleep. Might as well do it in my arms while Mace drives. Unless you want to snuggle up with him instead.”

“No!” Mace and Friday said at the same time, making Striker laugh again.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Friday slept deep, curled against Striker’s side on the seat between him and Mace. She became increasingly tired the closer they got to the deadline for taking the antidote. Already the poison was having an impact on her system. But she never complained. He stroked his hand down her side. She was like a little kitten, sheltering against him, trusting him in her sleep. Trusting him with her life.

“I hope you know what you’re doing.” Mace’s voice was barely a whisper, but Striker still checked that Friday wasn’t disturbed by it before he answered.

“You we

re rough on her.” There was more accusation in his tone than he would have normally used with his teammate. They were best friends for a reason. Striker trusted the man and his instincts with his life. His arms tightened around the woman curled against him. It seemed he didn’t trust them with Friday’s, though.

“I don’t like coincidences.”

They traveled on in silence, covering the miles slowly in the inky black night. The vehicle they’d ordered wasn’t the fastest on the planet, but it was quiet. Sometimes stealth was more important than speed.

“For what it’s worth,” Mace said at last. “I think she’s telling the truth. I’ll just be a whole lot more comfortable having her around once she’s been implanted with a monitoring chip.”

Striker smothered his wince at the thought of shackling Friday again. All she wanted was to be free.

“You don’t like that plan.” Of course his best friend hadn’t missed his reaction.

“I trust her.”

He felt the enormous weight of the words as he said them. But they were true. A core of honor shone out from her. It was clear she was a victim of circumstance. And who better to understand that than a bunch of soldiers whose lives had changed because they’d had the misfortune to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“My snake trusts her, too.”

There was a snort of amusement. “Your snake has adopted her. I think your damn reptile sees her as his pet.”

With a soft chuckle, he traced the dark circles under her eyes. Had they been there that morning? Was it another sign her body was slowly succumbing to the poison? He held her tighter, burying the surge of fear that followed the thought. He’d just found her. He didn’t want to lose her. Not when he’d lost so much already. No, he wanted to keep her with him and give her the life she desperately wanted. But he was dreaming. He was a criminal, stuck in a world he didn’t understand. If she stayed with him, she would never know freedom.

If she lived.

Helpless, that was what he felt. All he could do was get her to La Paz and hope the damned antidote worked. He couldn’t even think about the alternative. Friday had become important to him. There was something strong between them. Something that needed a chance to grow. And somehow, instinctively, he knew he’d never get a chance like this with anyone else. Yeah, she had to live. For both of them.

“Your snake still talking to you?” Mace kept his eyes on the terrain.