The Darkest Hour (KGI #1)(19)

“Thank you,” Ethan said loud enough for the others to hear.

“You would have done the same for one of us,” Steele said with a shrug. The action made him wince again, and he held his hand to his shoulder. Ethan could see blood seep between his fingers. “And truth is, when you told me what had happened to Rachel, I was itching to kick some cartel ass. I’m just glad she’s okay.”

Was she okay? That was the million-dollar question. She was alive, but who really knew how she was. The bastards had shot her up with drugs for God knows how long. Certainly long enough to get her addicted. She had been in the throes of withdrawal when Sam found her. Ethan didn’t even want to dwell on what else they might have done to her.

He needed to get her to a doctor fast. But first they had to get the hell out of here. Alive.

The whir of the blades and the roar of the engine cut off anything else Ethan might have said. Within seconds, Donovan lifted off the ground and skimmed along the trees. In the distance, smoke could be seen floating skyward in a black stream. Ethan’s nostrils flared. He wished they’d done exactly as Steele had said and dropped a load of C-4 and been done with it.

Ethan leaned back and shifted Rachel so that she was even closer to him. It didn’t matter that they were both dirty, they stunk, and they had more dirt and mud caked on them than a hog. She was his. She was a miracle.

He closed his eyes and buried his face in her hair. The slow rise and fall of her chest, the slight movement against his body gave him much needed reassurance.

He kissed her and kept his lips pressed to her head. No matter what, this time he wouldn’t make the same mistakes he’d made before. He’d cherish each day with her.

He only hoped she’d forgive him their past.

CHAPTER 8

“I think we should have had Sean come with us,” Frank grumbled. “And what were you thinking leaving Rusty alone in our house? We’ll be lucky to have a house when we get back. She probably sent us on a wild-goose chase. How do we know she was telling us the truth?”

Marlene’s mouth tightened as they turned off the rural county road onto a dirt path that was barely wide enough for the truck. “It’s important that I show her trust.”

Frank snorted. “Trust? You just met the girl last night. Trust is earned, Marlene. You need to get your head out of the clouds.”

She sighed as they came to a stop in front of a dilapidated trailer overgrown with weeds and grass that hadn’t been cut in years.

“You should have at least let me bring the shotgun. Does it look to you like these folks want company?”

“Frank, stop. Look at this place. Rusty doesn’t belong here. Is it any wonder she ran away?”

Her heart ached for the hurt and distrust in the young girl’s eyes. Eyes that were way older than the rest of her.

“Let’s get this over with,” Frank grumbled. “And I want you to stay behind me until I know it’s safe, okay?”

Marlene nodded and they both got out of the truck. Before she could close her door, a man stepped from the screen door that only hung by one hinge.

“Whatever you’re selling, we don’t want any,” he called in a belligerent tone. At least now Marlene knew where Rusty got it.

She stepped away from the truck and called back. “We’re here to talk to you about Rusty.”

“What’s that fool done this time? I don’t have any money to bail her out of trouble, so you might as well go on now. She’s on her own.”

“That much is evident,” Marlene said under her breath.

Frank stepped in front of her and held his hand back for her to remain still. And quiet.

“Are you her father?” Frank asked.

“Don’t see that it’s any of your business.”

“Well we need to speak to whoever her guardian is.”

The man stared for a long time, and then he shoved his hands into his tattered jeans and thrust out his chest. “She ain’t any kin to me. She and her mama were living here with me, but her mama done took off again. No telling when or if she’ll be back. Girl’s following in her footsteps. Been gone for a week.”

Marlene closed her eyes against sudden tears. A week. A week on her own with no food, scared out of her mind and no place to go back to. Rusty hadn’t lied about that.

She reached for Frank’s hand and squeezed urgently. He caught her fingers and gave a tug in return.

“So you aren’t her legal guardian.”

“Hell no. That would be her no-good mama. I’ve washed my hands of both of them. Good riddance, I say.”

“Thank you,” Frank said. He turned and gestured for Marlene to get back in the truck.

“Who’d you say you were again?” the man called. “And what’s happened to Rusty?”

Frank walked back around to his side and paused at his door to look at the man. “I didn’t say. Thank you for your time.”

He got in and started the engine. They were two miles from the trailer before he said a word. And then he only spoke to swear a blue streak.

“Man ought to be shot,” Frank growled.

Marlene battled to keep the smile from her lips. She knew Frank well. He may have put up a good front, his bark was always worse than his bite, but deep down, he had a heart as soft, if not softer than, her own.