Protecting Her: A Romance Bundle

I don’t even dare think about what I’ll do if there is any harm to her. It makes me feel out of control already.

It won’t be too long before I get there, I should be there already. I dread to think what will happen between now and then, but I have to just be happy with the idea that I’m going. I used my persuasive skills, my rank, and my respect to win Hankly around and now I’m going to make him glad he made that choice.

The Taliban, or at the very least this bunch of assholes, are going to eat fucking dust. I have to make this emergency, expensive trip worthwhile for him as well as me. So, my revenge will be for the good of all of us.

As we rise up into the sky, I glance around at the people who’ve followed me, desperately hoping that they all make it out of this alive. That’s the one cost I won’t be able to come to terms with. The last thing I need is for someone else to die in Veronica’s place. Much as I would sacrifice anyone for her I hope it doesn’t come down to that. I don’t know if I’ll be able to cope. I’ll just have to do what I can to ensure that doesn’t happen.

***

Everyone else slept on the way, but not me. My brain is wired and ticking harder than ever. The fact that we’re too close to the ten-day deadline for my liking makes it impossible for me to rest. Not that I trust these assholes to stick to what they promised. Not unless they have some false information and they think she is someone special.

“Lieutenant.” The officer who’s in charge of the operation so far sticks his hand out to me. “Corporal Jones.”

“Good to meet you.” I shake his hand warmly, hoping that he has good news for me. “Thank you for agreeing to work with me. I know how unorthodox this is. Do you have any… information for me?”

He darts his eyes away. “As far as I know, all is fine with your girl, but of course, I can’t one hundred percent guarantee that until we’re in there. There has been another video posted online to suggest as much.” Fear grips at my heart. My poor girl has been forced to make another humiliating video! I hope she wasn’t threatened too much. I wish I’d seen it. I want to ask to see it right now… “But the deadline is close, so we need to plan.”

Right, of course. We have something more pressing to attend to hear. There’s nothing to be gained from seeing the video right now. Except maybe it’ll make my mood even fouler which helps no one.

“Okay.” I nod decisively instead. “So, we need to move quickly. Do you have any sort of plan?”

“Of course.” He looks a little offended that I’ve even suggested he might not. “Come with me and I’ll explain it all to you. Then we need to get going. Like I said, time is of the essence here.”

He clearly wants me to fall apart even less than I do. Awesome, it means he’ll keep Veronica alive.

23

Veronica

I can’t lift my head up any longer, it remains planted to the hot, hard ground where I imagine it’ll stay until the end comes for me. There’s no hope anymore, I’m not holding onto any dream that I’ll be rescued. Time is ticking by every single minute and I know it won’t be long before I’m decapitated. My head will be severed from my body and recorded to warn others against coming here to work with journalistic tendencies. My only hope is that it works. I really don’t want anyone else to end up in this position. I would love to at least know that I’ve saved someone else’s life. As I lie here covered in sweat, urine, and tears that’s the only thing I have going for me. But I can’t cry anymore, there aren’t any tears left inside my body. I’ve given over everything.

The door swings open and yet another glass of water is slid over to me. Just like the last one, it will remain untouched. I want it, my body absolutely screams out for it, but I don’t have the strength needed to reach across and grab it. My muscles are too weak and my will power too low. All I can do is look pathetically at it.

I want the ten days to come to an end now. I keep thinking it must be near. I can’t suffer this any longer. Every time I remind myself that it could be so much worse, it doesn’t help me one bit. For me, right now, this is the worst that I’ve ever had to suffer. Imagining anything harder happening to me is incomprehensible.

The man barks an order at me, one that he knows I can’t understand, but as he points wildly at the glass before me I have to assume that he wants me to drink it. I force my floppy arm forward, I really do make an effort just to keep my head down and keep these people happy, but it makes no difference. I can’t.

With a guttural yell, he stomps over to me, he lifts my rag doll body from the ground, and he presses the glass up to my sand paper lips. He yanks my hair so my head tips backwards, which should hurt way more than it does, I think my pain receptors might have shut down somewhere along the way, and he tips the water. It could drown me, it spills down my dry throat much too rapidly. I know it isn’t right, but I welcome it. If I can die here, then at least I’ll be stripping that final iota of control away from them. They won’t be able to kill me.

Of course, that only leaves the fear of what they’ll do to my poor body, but I suppose I cannot have it all.

Unfortunately, before I can even start to choke on the water, he yanks the glass away from me and drops it to the floor. It cracks rather than smashes, but the sound feels so loud inside my poor fragile brain I wince anyway.

Then he lets me go and I tumble back to the ground, smacking my head painfully as I go. I don’t know if the water is supposed to make me feel any better or not, but it really doesn’t. It sloshes around painfully in my stomach, adding sickness to the ever-growing list of ailments that I’m trying to come to terms with. I gag, almost ready to throw up, but thankfully that doesn’t quite happen. The vomit sticks behind my lips.

There’s more yelling, but it comes from outside my cell, so the man leaves me alone. There might be noise all the time, but when I’m by myself it’s a little slice of peace. I can just feel whatever it is I want to feel. And right now, that’s permanently about Jordan. I didn’t want to think of him in the beginning because I was scared of falling apart, but now I’m lower than low. I’m beyond falling apart. I’m a mess on the ground. Literally.

I slide my eyes closed and let him fill my brain. His gorgeous face consumes me. I remember that night all those years ago when we first saw one another in college, when I thought he didn’t like me because we weren’t friends in school. But he dragged me to him and insisted I become his friend. And that’s all I thought I’d be for a while. I had feelings for him, but I didn’t feel like he did too, so I tried to hide them. I stuffed them down and ignored them the best I could. But then he grabbed me. He claimed me and kissed me hard, he made me his.

I imagine what we’d be doing now if I wasn’t here. Would we be sitting on the couch watching some crappy movie on TV? Would we be laughing and eating a meal, enjoying one another’s company? Would we be in bed?

The idea of being in a bed with Jordan makes me groan, and not just because it’d be a hell of a lot more comfortable than here. I miss him holding me, I yearn for him to love me, I need to transport there so bad.

“I love you,” I imagine him whispering into my ear as he kisses me. “I love you so much, Rusty.”

“I love you too…” I don’t know if I just say that bit in my head or out loud, but it hardly matters. I kinda hope I’m saying it loud enough for him to hear because I so badly want him to know. “I love you so much, Jordan.”

I feel his hands all over me, his hands are touching me, caressing me gently. It’s so soft compared to the hardness that surrounds me. It feels amazing, it actually manages to help me forget for just a minute. It’s hard to know this could all be real if I hadn’t been so damn stubborn, but I suppose that doesn’t change anything now. I made my choice, and now it’s me suffering the consequences of it. Me, Christopher, and the others…