Page 64 of Her Mercenary

“I know, Sam.” Roman inhaled deeply, guilt marring his own face. “I know.”

It was then, for the first time, that I wondered about all the things Roman had done while undercover. A sick feeling knotted my stomach.

When Roman released me, I shot to my feet and stared at the man, Lucas Ruiz.

“But he—you ...” I sneered at Lucas. “Those children—”

“It’s part of it, Sam.” Roman interrupted, opening his palms like there was nothing he could do about it.

“Bullshit,” I snapped. “It’s fucked up.”

“I know—but it’s the only way to infiltrate and stop a group like this. It’s part of the job.” Roman stepped between Lucas and me, blocking my view of the man. He gripped my shoulders, his stare penetrating. “Sam, you have to trust m—”

“I do.”

Roman dipped his chin, released me, and turned to Lucas, the two quickly falling into hushed conversation.

I do trust you, I thought as I stared at the men before me. I trust him, I trust him, I trust him.

Cautiously, I stepped forward, careful to stay behind Roman and keep my distance from the man who’d kept me locked in a cage for weeks.

I hated him. Regardless of what appeared to be a working relationship between my savior and my captor, I hated the man with one eye.

Lucas spoke quickly. “I only have a few minutes,” he said in English.

I pitifully laughed to myself. I’d assumed he could only speak Spanish.

“How far off are they?” Roman asked.

“Six miles southeast. Your man, Bear, diverted them to the river by laying tracks. They’re still following the tracks, thinking they belong to her. I volunteered to venture off path, knowing your escape route.”

Roman had shared his escape route with Lucas before shit went down, apparently. I couldn’t process it all. It felt so wrong.

Lucas continued. “They’re getting restless. Panicking. Conor still hasn’t showed, and now one of the slaves is missing and two of their men are dead.”

“Four.”

“Not according to them. They never found the bodies you dragged to the shed. I dumped them in a nearby river before they could find them. There was no way to explain the gunshots—they would know someone was watching. As far as I can tell, the guards think those two men went into town on break.”

“What about the bodies in the room?”

There was a flash of disapproval on Lucas’s face before he continued. “They suspect the girl did it and they want her head. I slit their throats with a butter knife from the kitchen, then marred the bedpost to make it look like she’d somehow gotten ahold of a knife, got herself loose, and jumped the men. They think you went off after her, to try to find her.”

“So, Roman’s cover is still intact?” I asked.

“Right now, yes. But not if he doesn’t return with your head soon enough.”

“Christ.” Roman ran his fingers through his hair. “How long do we have until they wise up and send an entire army after us?”

“Not long. I’m due back in a few hours. When I tell them I’ve come up emptyhanded, they’ll send more out.” He paused. “And ... you know I’m leaving today. I won’t be around to help you any more come this afternoon.”

“Your daughter?”

“Yes. She’s very close to labor now. I leave before sundown.”

Roman glanced at me.

“You need to get out of here,” Lucas said. “Get to the airport as soon as possible ...” He scowled at me. “What’s your ETA?”