Page 71 of Red Line

Damn, that was some badassery right there.

Nomad pulled off his formal dress pump and retrieved a razor blade hidden in the cavity of his heel, along with the other pre-positioned survival objects. He quickly stepped into his shoe and climbed into the back, his focus on the woman in red. She was the wild card. “Are you okay?”

“Fine. Just, you know, hanging out.” She rattled her hands on the pipe.

Nomad sawed the thick plastic of the military-style zip-ties holding Elena trapped. Elena stared up at him wide-eyed.

“Hi. Do you remember me? We danced together a few times tonight.” He used the timbre of his voice to soothe her, hoping that she would trust him and come away quietly.

Elena was white and shaking.

“Just hold still, I’m going to get you down. All right?”

She answered with shivering nods.

After releasing Elena from the pipe, Nomad took her full weight against him as he held her up. Her knees weren’t locking. She dangled like the ragdoll that Rory liked to hug when he was sleeping on his doggy bed.

The police were one street over. They’d be within sight soon. Elena was his mission.

Nomad pressed the razor blade into not-Mrs. Bland’s fingers. “You’re okay?”

Pinching the razor, she stammered, “Yes, I—” She seemed astonished that he wasn’t going to rescue her.

Instead, he’d squatted down, draped Elena over his shoulder, and carried her out the back of the truck, around to the passenger seat of the stolen car, and set her inside.

After slamming the door and racing around to the driver’s side, things slowed as he folded himself under the steering wheel again.

Putting the car in motion, he reached an arm across Elena, grabbed the belt, and strapped her in safely.

He tapped his lapel to open comms, knowing T-Rex would listen to the update. “Elena, they kidnapped you. I’m glad to get you back.”

Elena turned toward him with a slack-jawed frown. “Whoareyou?”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Nomad

Here I go, figuring out a creative solution.Nomad sent a quick glance Elena’s way.

Clearly in shock, she hugged herself and trembled.

That was okay by Nomad. As soon as she got her wits about her, she’d start asking questions and making demands.

If she asked to get out of the car, and he refused, it would be kidnapping.

He decided to stay on the highway and keep his speed up so they didn’t hit a stop where she might try to jump out of the car.

He was still waiting on his orders.

And now, Elena was pulling herself together.

Wing it.“I’m undercover security,” Nomad said softly but authoritatively. “I’m sorry those men got as far as they did. That shouldn’t have happened. It was our duty to protect you, Elena.”

“Me?” She pulled her chin back. “How do you know my name?”

Glancing quickly her way, Nomad realized his two mistakes. He’d said her name when she hadn’t introduced herself that evening. And he’d saved her and left the other woman zip-tied in the van. He’d lean on his training to get out of this mess—obfuscate and then hand her the reins. “It is my duty to create a safe environment this evening. How do I know your name? It’s listed on the security roll. We took pictures as the guests came through the checkpoint. We’re aware of everyone who attended the ball.” He sent her a smile. “My turn; do you know who that other woman was back in the truck with you?”

“No.” Elena shook her head vigorously. “I mean, she tried to help me. But no. I have no idea who she is. I think she maybe wanted to rob me of my ring.” She folded one hand over the other. On each finger, Elena wore various sizes of red-stoned rings. No one had stolen them from her. Nomad had no idea which one was the ring she’d hoped to sell. But she had absolutely used the singular in that sentence.

---