Page 6 of Savage Escape

It should’ve been easy, right? Hell, she’d already died once in her lifetime and it had been a cakewalk. She’d been dead for two minutes and thirty-seven seconds before the paramedics brought her back. Blood loss and blunt force trauma to the head. It’s what they said after she’d been stabilized.

A miracle she was alive. A miracle she came back from the dead. Was what they said when she came to in the hospital bed two days later.

She should be thankful that she had made it ‘cause others weren’t so lucky.

A fucking miracle. They said.

Point was that she’d done it before, she could do it again. It was willpower, plain and simple. And Caden Quinn had that in spades.

If she could crawl through a jungle with a gaping hole in her chest and a broken leg, she sure as hell could will herself to die.

But it wasn’t working. Her brain couldn’t process the request. Like she knew what death was, but her body didn’t know how to quit fighting. Because fighting was all it ever did—all she ever did.

She was done fighting.

So Caden closed her eyes and tried not to think of all the pain and hurt Nathan Savage was enduring and the stomach knotting, ‘what if’s’. What if he didn’t make it through the torture? What if they went through all the work of capturing him just to kill him?

Savage was tough. She could ignore the anxiety and guilt knifing at her gut. He was quick and intelligent, with an overabundance of bad jokes and a crooked smile. Added to the fact that the man had to be some kind of former soldier, he could hold his own.

The first time she went head to head with him had been in Istanbul. She’d been coming off an adrenaline high after a job well done with the item in her bag. Then he popped out of the woodwork, called her by name, and told her she was under arrest. Caden had been wary. Usually, they (they being governments and/or corporations) sent pencil pushers after her—not men like him. For a moment, Caden had suspected that he was another hitter trying to take what was hers, but he kept his distance and his stance justoozedagent.

Caden had politely scoffed at the attempted arrest and continued on her merry way. And then he engaged. Well, no, he’d tried very hard not to engage. He had pulled out his Glock, warned her against resisting arrest, and grabbed for her shoulder when she didn’t heed his warning.

Shocked as shit was what she was when he blocked her blows and returned with some well-placed jabs. It would be a lie if shesaid she hadn’t been scared and just a wee bit turned on when he proved competent in hand-to-hand combat. But he had held back: Caden figured it was because she was a girl and he was a good ol’ southern gentleman and she had escaped with him lying unconscious on the sidewalk.

The clomp of heavy boots and the familiar sound of skin and fabric sliding on cement had the merc positioning her body upright and holding her breath. The clang of the lock being thrown back was a good sign it meant they had something left to bring back to the cell. It meant he was alive or close enough to it, anyway.

Two heavily armed men entered first, arms drawn and aimed at her head. She did have somewhat of a reputation amongst the seedy underbelly of Moscow, but the fact that they’d assume she’d try to escapenow, now with four guys toting guns between her and the hallway and with no knowledge of the building’s layout and no escape plan whatsoever, was insulting as hell.

She only glared while the other two dragged the shivering do-gooder into the tiny cell and dumped him in the center. They backed out, eyes and guns trained on her until the door was shut and locked again.

She was up and pulling at the heap before she fully registered what the hell she was doing. But it was too late to feign disinterest. She was already prodding at him and smacking at his face.

“Savage.” He was hot to the touch. Red welts littered his torso. “Savage!”

“Whaa-at?” He clenched his teeth and batted her hands away.

“Anything fatal?” Caden ignored the look of confusion on his face and tried to act casual.

“Nah—he just fu—freaking electrocuted me.”

Ever the gentleman, he censored himself. Caden couldn’t help the disbelieving smirk that curled her lips. She retreated back to her corner of the cell when she ascertained that he wasn’t dying.

“Why do you care?” He stayed sprawled in the middle of the room.

The return of the heavy combat boots on the cement stayed any explanation she could concoct. Nathan let out a heavy sigh and tried to push himself up as the feet paused at their cell and the door was opened, obviously thinking they’d come back for him.

Weapons up and at the ready, three new guards stepped into the room, one trained on Savage and the other two on her.

Asshole Number One was motioning with his gun and yelling at her in Russian to get on her knees.

Her Russian was rusty, but she got the gist of it. Caden didn’t have time to comply before they were pulling at her and kicking at the backs of her knees.

Caden grinned, voluntarily held her hands up, and waited as Asshole Number Two quickly bound them. Honestly, she was surprised at how easily the language came back to her.

He kept motioning with his gun and told her to stand.

She complied, ignoring the burn of her busted rib, and got to her feet.

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