He rolled to his feet and snagged his uniform jacket off the back of a chair.
“I’m sorry to have kept you from your team. You must have a lot to prep for the vice president’s wife’s visit.”
He buttoned up his uniform. “Actually, I’m not on call for that until tomorrow. So for now, you have a bodyguard.”
The best thing for both of them right now? To lose themselves in work. Completely.
That didn’t mean for a second that he was backing off. For whatever reason, she’d landed in his life again and every second with her only reinforced one glaring fact.
Walking away wasn’t an option anymore.
***
Ajaya shuffle-walked beside his two “guards” and tried like hell not to wet himself. He wanted to run away into the dark night and just disappear, except there was no place to hide even if he could get past the fences and captors.
He could only stick by the two agents leading him to his quarters—if that was really where they were taking him. He understood too well about prison cells and torture chambers.
He was so damn scared and tired. It had been a dangerous move climbing onto that helicopter. But at that moment he had been more afraid of the people chasing him than the aircraft he had run toward. All he had been able to think about was leaving, flying as far away as possible. He’d been terrified one of the hostages would recognize him and accuse him of horrible things. God, how he envied them being able to leave. Even now, he could see some of the hostages in the distance loading up on a plane to go.
He prayed the interrogators believed him when he said he wanted to get away. That much was true. He had even offered up the information about the pattern in the cloth to make them trust he told the truth.
But it was so scary figuring out how much to say without getting himself in trouble if the others took him back.
Keeping pace with his silent guards into the dimly lit night, he resisted the urge to ask them where they were going. To beg them to help him escape to… Where? He had nowhere to go. He just wanted to be alone and safe for one night. Just one night to sleep with a full stomach and no fears.
“Sir, where are you taking me?” he asked the one who had been called Mr. Smith. The fact that he had not been passed over to people in uniform frightened him. He should not warrant this level of attention.
“As I told you earlier, we are escorting you to a room.” Mr. Smith walked soundlessly. The guy was downright creepy with his dark suit and black hole eyes that didn’t have any emotion. “There will be a guard outside your door—for your protection too—until we check out your story.”
“Why would I lie?” He sounded desperate, he knew, but maybe that was good.
“Because you have been identified as one of the kidnappers.”
“I am just a kid.” A kid who felt a million years old.
“All the more reason for us to look out for your safety as well.” Mr. Smith’s jacket parted to reveal a gun.
The other man, Mr. Brown, stopped outside a concrete block building. “Let’s get the kid a Happy Meal and tuck him into his race car bed. I’m beat.”
Beat? Ajaya flinched back, pressing his spine against the warm wall.
That word must mean something different than he thought. Because beating… He swallowed down vomit.
If he could just go back in time. Back to the school where he’d been sent after his family died. He’d been so intent on revenge he had been willing to sign on, thinking he would be a warrior.
Instead, they’d turned him into a murderer.
If these men beside him learned the things he had done, they wouldn’t be offering him Happy Meals or anything else. He wasn’t innocent anymore. He couldn’t go back to the school, and he certainly did not want to go back to the people who’d taken him.
But he could not stay here much longer. They would lock him up for life once they learned everything about his past.
He scraped his fingers along the rough exterior, wishing he could anchor himself to the spot. Mr. Smith unlocked the door and swung it wide. Two uniformed guards with machine guns slung over their shoulders stepped out and flanked either side of the door.
Mr. Smith swept a hand toward the open door. “Here we are. Your room.”
Ajaya peeled himself off the wall and inched inside. Warily.
He looked from side to side at the clean cool space with a big bed on one side. He found his boxed “happy meal” on a small table. They were obviously trying to lull him. To win him over. It was going to take more than food and a bed. The others had tried that and he wouldn’t be cheaply bought again.