Page 22 of Gray

West’s gaze was moving between the men. “The problem is we don’t know his current location. I retrieved the flight records and can go back through his travel for years. He’s constantly on the move, and I know every single time he’s hired a private jet. If we’d gotten this data mere weeks ago, we could’ve determined his probable location. Narrowed down the places he was selling girls. Brought him in. The trouble is, he hasn’t gotten on an airplane in weeks.”

“The Feds didn’t mention any fake identification when they raided his home,” Luke pointed out. “If he’s traveling under an alias, he’d have to be carrying it on his person.”

“He’s an arrogant prick,” Jett said, his eyes hard. “He thought he could get away with traveling under his own name because nothing stuck until now. The Feds tried arresting him before but he was out on bond within hours.”

“How the hell is that even possible?” Ford asked.

Jett eyed him. “Money talks. He had his lackeys do the dirty work and managed to keep himself clean. Until Lena and Kaylee.”

“The FBI profiler has an entire dossier on him,” West said. “Ivan Rogers is narcissistic and arrogant. He’s driven by sex and money. Obsessive. Maybe he fixated on Kaylee, enjoying the footage his men shared with him from the safehouse, and wanted to keep her. Either way, that changed when he saw Lena. It’ll be harder to travel now with the Feds looking for him, knowing he’s wanted for kidnapping and assault. He’s going to take what he wants and flee.”

“And what he wants is Lena,” Gray said, horror washing over him.

“You think he’s still in New York,” Jett said, crossing his arms. “You think he’s still out there, waiting.”

West nodded, his voice grim. “I think he’ll come back for Lena.”

***

Gray mumbled and thrashed around, trying to escape from the ropes that bound him in place. A fine sheen of sweat coated his skin, his heart racing. His fists clenched in anger and frustration, and he sucked in a breath, the dry desert air doing nothing to quench his thirst. He tried to shout out a warning but couldn’t speak. Couldn’t find his voice.

He couldn’t stop them.

Couldn’t help her.

Gray couldn’t move, no matter how hard he tried.

“Lena. Lena!”

He gasped as he awoke, taking shaky breaths. He was tense and agitated, twisted in the sheets. The darkness and cool air surprised him. It wasn’t blindingly bright or stifling hot like the desert. He wasn’t in that fucking tent.

Gray sucked in another breath, trying to get his bearings as he sat up in bed, his body shaking.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” a sweet, feminine voice murmured, soft hands running down his arm. Soothing. Comforting. A woman’s gentle touch. Surprisingly, he began to calm down, his body instinctively knowing he was safe.

Gray looked over in the darkness, awareness suddenly washing over him. “Lena?” he croaked.

“I’m right here, baby. You had another nightmare.”

One hand slid to his nape, lightly applying pressure. It was grounding. It reminded him he was in bed with his girl, not tied up in Afghanistan.

“Another one?” he asked, his voice low.

“You were murmuring and restless earlier but didn’t wake up. This one seemed worse.”

“Shit.” His head fell to his hands, a feeling of defeat washing over him. He’d slept soundly the past few nights at Lena’s side, in her bed, but the briefing earlier today with Jett and his teammates had rattled him. Gray hadn’t been in fear of his own pain, of the evil men who’d gleefully hurt him, of the torture he’d endured. He’d been fucking terrified because Lena needed him, and he couldn’t save her.

Her soft hands kept running over his bare arms and shoulders, her touch light and gentle. It was a welcome relief. She paused, clearly feeling the scars on his back as she gave him a careful hug. While he’d undressed Lena and pleasured her every night, he’d been careful to make it about her enjoyment. He hadn’t let her explore his own scarred body. He hadn’t made love to her yet either, wanting to make sure it felt right.

She softly kissed his bare shoulder, and Gray’s arms came around her, holding her close. Her soft skin, bare breasts, and warmth felt like fucking heaven. Gray’s heart thundered in his chest. He felt safe in the dark here with her. He might be stronger than her physically, able to protect her from harm, but mentally? She was the one shielding him from his nightmares.

Hell if he didn’t need her as much as she needed him.

“Did you dream you were back in Afghanistan?” Lena asked softly, pulling back to look at him. The covers had slipped down, and he could see her perfect breasts in the moonlight. Fuck, she was beautiful. Long, dark hair. Fair skin. Gorgeous curves. Her breasts hung heavy and full, her nipples peaked. He’d explored every inch of her earlier, Lena collapsing in a satisfied heap atop him shortly after. She’d wanted to touch him, but he’d made her come twice, making sure she was thoroughly sated. She’d been too exhausted to do more than fall asleep in his arms.

Now he was wide awake in the middle of the night, tormented by dreams that weren’t even real.

He huffed out a sigh. “This was different. Usually, I have nightmares about my captors. My torture. I dream that I’m tied up in that goddamn tent, bleeding and in pain.”

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