Page 20 of Going Rogue
After they’d walked about a hundredpaces, the leader suddenly stopped. He knelt and tugged at the dirt. Astonishment dropped her mouth open when it slid away. He’d grabbed a cloth she hadn’t even noticed it was so well camouflaged. Its color blended perfectly with the ground around it.
Crane flashed his light at the spot the leader had uncovered, and she gulped. It was a spider hole, and she knew what the man wanted them to do.
Good thing she wasn’t claustrophobic.
“Will you even fit?” She glanced at the width of Crane’s shoulders and then back at the hole.
“Only one way to find out.” With a grim look, he handed her the flashlight.
“Wait!” she squeaked as he sat and slung his legs into the opening. When he paused, giving her a questioning brow, she asked, “How deep is it?” Visions of him dropping down and breaking his legs assaulted her.
“Not too deep. There’s a ladder.”
She hadn’t seen one, but she trusted him and nodded.
When his head disappeared below ground level, she had the strangest urge to pull himback out of there, which was silly since she had to follow him. Hiding in a hole was still a better alternative than being recaptured by the militants.
The leader drew her attention. “Hurry!”
The distant roar of a motor shattered the quiet. With no need for further urging, she wedged herself in the hole. Holding the flashlight in her teeth, she spotted the ladder rungs.Ifyou could call them that. They’d been carved into the shaft, and grasping at the layers of packed sand, she used it to lower herself slowly under the earth. She’d barely gone two steps when she heard the Bedouin man slide the cloth back over the hole.
Taking as deep a breath as she could around the flashlight in her mouth, she tried to calm her racing heart.
You’re not alone and you have a weapon.
The familiar weight of the Glock hiding under the vest she wore settled some of the nerves threatening to make her panic. Focusing on that, she continued to climb down until she felt Crane’s hands at her waist and froze.
“I’ve got you.” Before she could stop him, he’d lifted her, setting her on her feet with an ease that spoke of his strength.
It did something to her insides. Made them all warm and tingly. He didn’t drop his hands, and his musky scent permeated the earthy smell of the tunnel. When she felt tempted to bend toward it, she practically spit the flashlight from her mouth, desperate to see their surroundings and put space—if there was any—between them.
The sand had given way to a layer of gravel. Below it, stacked hard clay and sedimentary rock. These surrounded them in the man-made tunnel where they stood.
“Oh.” It was around six feet in height and wide enough for someone larger than Crane, even, to pass through.
He smiled. “Yeah. Not so bad.”
She attempted to return it. “Right. Could’ve been worse.” Honestly, she’d expected something cramped and barely big enough for both of them.
Expected or hoped?
She shook her head at the ridiculous thought. Like she wished they’d been forcedto huddle together with barely enough space to breathe between them.
Had to be the stress. That or she was losing her damn mind. She shined the light down either direction of the tunnel, and each seemed to stretch endlessly. It wasn’t a comforting realization. Not when it made her worry someone else might be using the tunnel.
“What did he say about it?” Though she spoke to Crane she leaned her back against the wall next to the ladder so that she could see if anyone approached from either side.
“It’s an old forgotten tunnel from the ‘90s. Part of the network Saddam built to hide weapons from the U.N.”
That answer heightened her anxiety instead of settling it. Her gut twisted into a complicated series of knots. “It’s not forgotten if the Bedouins know about it.” She pulled the gun from her vest and felt calmer with it in her hand. “What if the militants do, too?”
Crane settled against the wall next to her and reached for her hand. She didn’t try to move away when he entwined their fingers. “I’m betting they don’t.”
His soft words were an attempt to soothe, but . . . “What if—”
“Then we fight.” He faced her, and her gaze locked on the reassurance in his. When his hand reached up and cupped her cheek, she found herself leaning into it. “I won’t let them take you again, Rogue. I promise.”
She was caught in the honey of his eyes and couldn’t look away. Excitement flooded her system; their surroundings faded, leaving her earlier question nagging at her. Whatwouldsex with Crane be like?
