Defending Morgan (Mountain Mercenaries #3)(3)
Black didn’t look any happier with her answer than Arrow was, but his teammate didn’t comment. He merely nodded and gestured to Ball with his head. Within seconds they were gone, blending into the shadows of the extremely run-down neighborhood.
“Come on,” Arrow said, reaching down and taking her hand in his. Once more, he was struck by the difference in their sizes. Her fingers were slender and dainty, while his were large and calloused. He’d removed the gloves he had on earlier, and he could feel how clammy her palm was. Another nonverbal sign of her nervousness, unease, and fright.
Without a word in protest, Morgan nodded and followed him as he headed in the opposite direction from where Black and Ball had gone. They’d circle around the neighborhood and get to the safe house from the north rather than the south, the direction his teammates were headed. It was the longer route, but he could move faster since he didn’t have to worry about jostling a child.
Morgan stumbled a bit behind him. She couldn’t see as well as he could since he’d pulled down his night-vision goggles, but once again, she didn’t make a sound. She merely held on to his hand tighter and trusted him as he led her through dark alleyways and trash-filled streets.
He had no idea what had happened to her in the last year, but he made a mental vow right then and there to do everything in his power to make her feel safe once more . . . no matter what it took.
Chapter Two
Morgan held on to the soldier’s hand as tightly as she could. The last thing she wanted to do was get lost in this godforsaken country. She had no idea who the men were who had shown up in the middle of the night like angels from heaven, but she didn’t care. They could be drug dealers and terrorists, and it wouldn’t matter—as long as they got Nina out of there and back to the States.
The fact that they knew who she was and agreed to take her too was a miracle as far as Morgan was concerned. They could’ve been Mafia henchmen, and she still would’ve gone with them. Anything was better than being where she was.
Morgan spared a second to wonder what had happened to the men who had been keeping her and Nina captive, but dismissed them a moment later. They were scum. Lowlifes of the highest order. She hoped they’d died horrible deaths.
She had no idea what the names of her saviors were, but it wasn’t like they’d had time to stop and exchange niceties. She didn’t care that they weren’t there for her. When Nina had begged them to allow Morgan to come too, she’d wanted that with every fiber of her being. She probably should’ve been a bit more hesitant since she didn’t know them. But with the way they were dressed, not to mention the expensive night-vision goggles they wore, there was no way they were in cahoots with the assholes who’d been holding her hostage.
Stumbling over a piece of trash in the alley, she mentally berated herself. She needed to pay attention. To not be so clumsy. She didn’t want to irritate the man who was helping her. She had to do her best to not inconvenience him in any way. She couldn’t afford for him to get annoyed and decide he couldn’t take her with him, after all. If she were this close to rescue but then recaptured, it would crush her.
Her rescuer had hurt her when he’d made her drop the crude knife she’d threatened him with in the house, but compared to the last year, the bruises on her arms were nothing. And after that small, sharp pain, he’d gone out of his way not to hurt her. She’d felt his hands on her ever since they’d made their escape from the house, steadying her, letting her know that he was right there next to her. That he wasn’t going to let anything happen to her.
She still remembered his words right before they’d left.
I’ve got you, Morgan. I’m going to get you home no matter what it takes.
He had her.
She wasn’t sure she wanted to go home. Atlanta didn’t exactly hold good memories for her. It had been a long time since she’d felt safe. But somehow, hearing this man’s words and having him near made her feel as if she truly would get back to the United States.
“How’re you holding up?” he asked quietly.
“I’m good,” she said automatically.
He stopped abruptly, and Morgan immediately cut off the grunt she’d involuntarily made when she ran into his back. He turned and put his free hand on her shoulder. “No, really. How are you doing?”
“I’m fine,” she repeated. “I just want to get out of here.”
He stared down at her for the longest moment. Morgan had no idea what he was searching for or what he saw when he looked at her, but she did her best to look like she was strong and capable when inside she felt anything but.
“My name is Archer Kane. My friends call me Arrow,” he said. “Archer . . . Arrow . . . not very original, but it’s better than some nicknames I’ve heard.”
Morgan blinked in surprise. She’d been sure he was about to call her on her lie. “Um . . . hi.”
He grinned. “Hi.”
She had no idea what he was grinning at, but she did her best to return his smile. It had been so long since she’d had something to smile about, she wasn’t sure her lips even remembered how. But her attempt must’ve been adequate because he squeezed her hand and said, “It’s not too much farther. We’re going to circle around and come at the safe house from the north. Once we get settled, I’ll get you something to eat, and we can see about getting you some medical care.”