Page 59 of Rami

She let out a loose breath, and the dread grew to press against his chest. After this, there was no going back. Possibly no coming back to this.

But the cartel’s pursuit was his doing. He’d thrown the fucking grenade that turned a shitty situation into a fucking earthquake. He’d pay for it.

But so would she. His heart twisted in his chest as he gently placed his palm on her cheek. “Ivy, baby.”

Her eyelids fluttered open. “What? What’s wrong?”

He stroked her cheek with his thumb, wishing like hell he could go back and do anything but throw that fucking bomb. “We gotta move.”

***

Rami’s words hammered into her brain like nails through sheet metal. Still, her mind fumbled with each syllable. All that translated was run.

Wrapping the blanket around her, she followed Rami into the house. Tears prickled her eyes. Still weak from being eaten out as if her center held the secrets of the universe, her legs trembled. Then she’d gotten banged into oblivion. She’d do it all again without hesitation.

For a few blissful hours she’d been free. Part of her had known the running would resume, but dammit, she’d wanted one night in Rami’s arms. One night where she didn’t have to worry about whether they’d see tomorrow.

“Don’t panic. We’ll be gone long before they get here.” He escorted her to her bedroom and tossed her still-packed bag on the bed. “Dress warm and comfortable.”

He left the room, his broad, tanned back as rigid as if he were suited up in tactical gear.

Grabbing her favorite yoga pants, she stepped into them. Hysteria knocked at the steel trapdoor in her mind, behind which she’d locked it away. It pummeled its angry fists, threatening to break loose and turn her into a weeping puddle.

“Nope,” she said aloud, popping thep. “Not happening. You can do this,” she murmured to herself as she pulled on a long-sleeved white T-shirt then shrugged into a loose-fitting hoodie. She tossed a few more items into her bag then added her phone and charger and hooked her arm through the strap.

Rami poked his head around the doorframe. He was dressed in a long-sleeved charcoal-gray shirt and black combat pants. A black vest dangled over his arm. “Ready?”

She nodded. His gaze raked over her. He took her bag from her, his gaze narrowing on the cord dangling from outside the zipper. “Can’t bring your phone.” He clicked his tongue and pulled out the device and cord and tossed them onto the bed.

She huffed. “I need to call Gigi.”

He held up the vest. “You can call her once we get where we’re going. Right now, I need you to put this on underneath your sweater.”

She swallowed and stared at what could only be a bulletproof vest.

“We need to move,” he said, sharply snapping her from her moment of hesitation.

She dropped her bag to the bed and shrugged out of her hoodie. Before she could orient herself, Rami fitted the vest over her head.

“It’s pretty lightweight. A little big, but that’s not a bad thing considering it’ll cover you even more.” As he spoke, his fingers clicked the buckles in place then cinched the material until the vest was secured to her chest and back.

“Do I really need this?” she asked, her voice strained and high-pitched. The thought of being shot filled her mouth with the coppery taste of fear.

“Hopefully not.” He picked up her hoodie and tugged it back over her head. Then he examined her chest. “Can’t even tell you’re wearing one.” A note of anxiety hung on the words, and her hackles rose.

Of course he’d be on edge considering they had to run yet again—but the stern line of his brow and the muscle jumping at his jaw, not to mention her ensemble, made her insides swirl with unease. Even when he’d rescued her from that hellish camper, he hadn’t looked nervous.

So why now?

The questions evaporated on her tongue as he led her to the door that would take them to the attached garage. He moved in front of her, his gun in hand and ready to shoot.

Sweat collected on her brow. The ice-cold droplets irritated her skin but she didn’t dare move to rub them off.

Rami yanked open the door, flicked on the light, and quickly scanned the garage. When no one jumped out, he urged her onto the steps that descended to the cement floor. “One sec.”

He traveled around the vehicle, quickly ensuring the space was clear. Then he dropped to his stomach and turned on the flashlight on his phone to look at the undercarriage.

“What are you—” Her belly bottomed out then ricocheted to her throat as realization dawned on her.

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