Page 172 of Rescuing You

“That sounds painful. I think if Shehab weren’t already dead, your boyfriend would hunt him down and kill him. Right, Wrong?”

“Yes, sir.” Michael’s words were grim—and deadly serious.

“You three are headed back to the States.”

“And me, sir? Am I⁠—?”

“I’ll be in touch, Wrong. Get some rest.” He passed them, continuing into the room and toward the food.

Leila waited, watching the man she loved say goodbye to his teammates. Shaking hands, offering thanks. Each one greeted him kindly, like a good friend.

Brock was angry, but even that seemed couched in respect. These men cared about him—as he cared about them.

Finally, Michael rejoined her and took her hand.

The team was watching, and she wished she could tell them how much she appreciated all they’d done for her.

Michael leaned down and whispered, “They know.”

She lifted her hand in a wave.

Which brought smiles and waves in return. “See you soon,” one called, while another said, “You ever get tired of Wrong⁠—”

“All right, that’s good.” Michael turned her toward the door. “Let’s get out of here.”

She was ready. To leave Greece. To leave Europe and all the fear behind.

Less than thirty minutes later, Leila stepped into another world.

A private jet with plush, cushy leather seats, six on each side of the aisle, some forward-facing, some rear-facing with tables interspersed between them.

Two tall men stood just inside.

The first smiled at her, holding his hand out. “I’m Derrick.”

She recognized him, the man Michael had pointed out hours earlier when they’d arrived at the airport.

Behind her, Michael said, “Leila, meet my youngest brother.” To Derrick, he said, “Her throat is hurting, so she’s not talking if she can help it.”

Derrick smiled. “No problem. Glad you’re here.”

As was she, though glad didn’t cover all the feelings inside her.

Leila wasn’t a hugger. She’d been raised to keep her distance from men, to keep her eyes down. But this man who’d come so far to help? She couldn’t speak, but she could make her feelings known. She held her arms out and stepped toward him, emotion clogging her already pained throat.

Michael’s brother wrapped her close. “Yeah,” he said. “I’m happy to see you too.”

He let her go, and she turned to the other brother. The one who’d seen her in the car. The one who’d pretended not to.

“That’s Bryan,” Michael said.

She hugged him. “Thank you.”

He held her tightly. His voice cracked when he said, “My pleasure.”

“All right.” Michael’s voice held a tinge of humor. “That’s enough of that.”

Leila stepped away, her cheeks heating at her forward behavior. But they didn't seem bothered by the hugs.