Page 85 of Her Mercenary

We locked eyes.

“I’m going to come again,” she whispered, staring into my eyes, into my soul.

“I love you. I love you so fucking much,” I whispered back, my tears dripping onto her cheek.

We shattered together, one euphoric explosion between the rocks.

39

SAM

I awoke in Roman’s arms, engulfed in the warmth and safety that I’d become completely addicted to.

Blinking, I turned my head, surprised to see that he was still asleep. There was something about me that allowed him rest, and I loved that I could do that for him. As his chest rose and fell heavily, he was completely dead to the world.

I watched him for a while, mentally reliving the last few days. The moment I first saw him, the moment he saved me. The moment I revealed myself to him, and the moment he did to me.

And I thought about how this was the end of it.

Today was the day I would be delivered to the airport and flown back to my home. Would it be the last day I would ever see him?

A rush of sadness washed over me, followed by annoyance and confusion.

How selfish of me.

Roman had risked his life by saving mine. Children were being held captive just miles from me. And there I was, sad and depressed that I wasn’t going to see Roman again.

I turned away from him and focused on the cave ceiling.

I thought of my mom, but instead of feeling joy, I was afraid that she might have a heart attack when she saw me alive after thinking I was dead.

I thought of the children, the horrific turn their lives had taken. How many more children would be kidnapped by this group in the future? How many lives destroyed?

And why the hell was I so sad all of a sudden?

I should be thankful, exhilarated, excited to be pulled from hell and returned to my life. So, why the fuck was I so sad?

I forced myself to focus on the plan.

In hours, Roman and I would arrive at Tenedores. There, we would hitch a ride to the airport, where he would ensure I caught a flight home.

I thought of my awful appearance, my clothes. I’d have no luggage, no purse, no ID. No identification.

My identity ... what was that anymore?

I reached up to touch my hair, dirty and oily.

There was Roman’s pack, the bar of soap sitting inside.

I would bathe, I decided. I would clean myself up so I could face this day with courage and dignity. I would hold my damn shoulders back and walk into that airport and back into my life.

I would become an advocate against human trafficking.

I would try to forget him.

I could do this. With him, or without him—I just had to tackle this day first.

Inch by inch, I wriggled out of Roman’s arms and slipped into my clothes. Before leaving, I placed the white plumeria flower he’d picked for me in the crook of his arm where I’d slept.