Page 96 of Rescuing You

Maybe picked up by authorities.

They had to get to Lesvos. Being caught in Turkey would get him taken into custody and the women sent home to Iraq or to a refugee camp, assuming the men chasing them didn’t find them first.

Whatever happened if they were caught, they would not be sent on the first flight to the States.

He had to face facts.

His plan wasn’t going to work.

Leila sat beside him, hip to hip. She took his hand. “I am not trying to be difficult.”

“I know.” His voice was even. “Let me think.”

The water route was the safest way. The only way, really. Except it meant he’d have to trust smugglers who made millions by profiting off refugees desperate to get to Europe. Smugglers who never had to answer to the souls lost, the bodies that sank to the bottom of the sea.

Smugglers who wouldn’t care if their boat was seen by the authorities.

It was only four miles, though. Four miles.

He could swim it, for crying out loud.

“No smugglers.” He looked at Leila, then at Jasmine, standing in the doorway.

The quieter sister said nothing, but by her terrified expression, she might as well have been shouting.

“Lesvos is the only way.” He stood and nodded to his bed.

Jasmine took his spot while he paced, considering the problem. There was a solution, a rather obvious one.

“I’ll buy a boat. How much more could it cost than what smugglers will demand?” It would probably cost less than passage for three people, now that he thought about it.

“But can you drive it?” Leila asked. “Do you know how?”

At that, he smiled. “My parents own a second home on an island in the Atlantic. I spent a lot of my childhood on boats. I’m pretty sure I can handle a four-mile trek across the Med.”

The sisters looked at each other, then spoke in rapid Arabic.

“We must go,” Jasmine said.

“But what if one of us falls in?” Leila still didn’t sound happy. “Have you learned to swim?”

As if Michael wouldn’t get them life jackets. But he said nothing, just listened.

Apparently, neither had ever so much as donned a bathing suit.

Leila was afraid of water after falling into the Tigris once when she was a child.

Jasmine remembered it well. She’d been terrified for her twin.

They went back and forth for another minute before he lost his patience. “You remember I speak Arabic, right?” He said the words in their language.

They both looked at him, blinking.

He sighed, then shifted to English. “If you’re coming with me, this is how we’re doing it. I promise not to let anybody drown.” He’d storm out again, but this was his room. Instead, he bent to put his shoes back on, pebble firmly in place beneath the ball of his foot. “I’m going out to buy a raft.” Hopefully, he’d be able to fit the thing in his tiny rental. If not, he’d return to the rental car company.

He was going to be bankrupt by the time this trip was over. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be bankrupt and unemployed.

“Change your clothes,” he said. “When you’re ready, I’ll do your makeup.” He’d hated that stupid disguise class at the Farm. He was thankful for it now. “And then we’re leaving.” When he stood, he considered walking out, letting his commands stand.