Page 139 of Rescuing You

“Come.” Waleed walked into the tumbledown building.

She followed, guards on both sides, into a damp space littered with old carpet, cracked tiles, and broken furniture.

Something skittered along the floor, a sooty shadow that disappeared into a crevice.

A shudder worked its way up her spine. She gripped her sister’s hand.

Waleed was already on his way up a dilapidated staircase, so she and Jasmine followed. She didn’t dare touch the flaking wrought iron banister for fear it wouldn’t hold her weight.

The rest of the men came behind them, the only sound the thumping of boots, so loud she worried someone might bang right through the rotting wooden steps.

But they made it all the way to the fourth floor.

The roof had collapsed on one side, letting in dim light—along with years of rain and filth. The space stank of musk and urine and death. Waleed pushed into one of the rooms, and she followed. She guessed this had been an apartment building at one time, based on the stained toilet beyond an open door and a counter separating a small kitchen from what must be a living area.

Waleed approached a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows, all cracked and dingy, their exterior shutters hanging lopsided and blocking part of the view.

“This’ll work.” He found an empty bucket and turned it upside down in front of one of the windows. Settling on it, he pointed toward the corner in front of him. It was the only place in the room without a view. “Sit.”

As if she were a dog to be commanded.

Everything in her wanted to tell him what she thought of his command.

Fake it until you find a way to defend yourself…let him think he’s won. Michael’s voice was in her head again. Meanwhile, find a way to fight back.

So she didn’t argue, just sat where Waleed had directed, gazing around the foul, ruined space for something, anything to use as a weapon. She saw nothing, but she felt something sharp beneath her bottom.

Jasmine sank to the floor beside her, linking their arms.

They were in this together. They’d come into the world together. They would fight together, try to escape together.

And maybe, today, they would die together.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Forty minutes after Michael’s team touched down—forty long minutes—Michael directed Stone to pull up in front of a coffee shop within walking distance of the marina. He handed his phone between the seats.

Bryan took it. “This guy’s a terrorist? He looks like an insurance salesman.”

Michael had pulled up a photo of Waleed Shehab, which he’d gotten from a CIA database. “Don’t let his looks deceive you. He’s a psychopath and a murderer.”

“Okay if I forward this to my phone?”

Michael glanced at Stone, who shrugged.

“Go ahead.”

A moment later, Bryan whistled, and Michael guessed that he’d swiped to the next photo, this one of Leila taken in the Alps on their last date.

The majestic Eiger, snow-covered and formidable, rose in the background while she stood in the middle of a field of wildflowers.

“She’s gorgeous,” Bryan said. “This is your girlfriend?”

He didn’t mind his brother’s appreciation. He was a little annoyed by the shocked tone.

“If you see either her or her twin⁠—”

“She’s a twin? There’s another one who looks…just like that?”