Defending Morgan (Mountain Mercenaries #3)(7)
He hadn’t planned on killing him, but when he’d seen the absolute terror and despair on Morgan’s face as the man had tried to cut off her air, he’d acted without thinking. She’d done exactly what he’d needed her to do, which had made killing the asshole easier . . . and faster. She was covered in blood and grime, but he couldn’t help but admire her and feel a tug of . . . something.
Arrow honestly had no idea how in the world he could be attracted to her. This wasn’t the time or the place, and she definitely wasn’t the kind of woman he usually went for, but he couldn’t deny there was something about Morgan Byrd that made him want to kill every motherfucker who dared put his hand on her.
Mentally shaking his head, he concentrated on translating what the men at the door were saying. He wasn’t sure how many there were, as their voices sounded muffled from his spot under the debris.
“No one’s here. Let’s keep going.”
“Wait. We need to search. They could be hiding.”
“They aren’t. Look around—this place is disgusting. No one is here. We need to keep looking before they disappear.”
“Who is the man with her?”
“I have no idea. But if we lose her, we don’t get our money. We’re getting paid to keep her here and alive.”
“What about the kid?”
“Screw the kid! She doesn’t matter. She’s José’s problem. The woman is who we need.”
“They can’t have gotten far.”
“We’ll talk to the others and make sure everyone has their eyes open. They won’t be able to get out of this part of town without someone seeing them. We’ll find them.”
“The man is an issue. He needs to be taken care of.”
“Oh, he will be. He’ll regret interfering.”
Arrow heard faint shouting from outside the room.
“Come on!” someone yelled from what sounded like the alleyway. “They’re down this way!”
The silence in the room was thick and heavy when the men abruptly left. Arrow could feel Morgan’s heart beating wildly against his back, and he hoped she didn’t decide to suddenly protest their close quarters. But he needn’t have bothered worrying. She wasn’t moving an inch. She was frozen in place. Every muscle locked tight. He didn’t think she understood what the men were saying, as she hadn’t flinched when they’d talked about someone paying to make sure she was kept alive.
What Arrow didn’t understand was why. Why had someone wanted her brought down here to the Dominican Republic and held captive? It made no sense. The person behind her kidnapping had to know she’d be treated badly, but whoever it was obviously didn’t care.
It was no surprise that the locals were doing what was asked of them. Santo Domingo was a poor city in a poor country. The money they were getting was probably at least ten times what they could make in a regular nine-to-five job. It was no wonder they were so desperate to find Morgan and haul her to whatever hellhole they’d stash her in next. Losing her meant their paycheck would disappear . . . not to mention whatever else they’d been doing with her.
“Are they—”
Arrow quickly turned and covered her mouth to cut off Morgan’s quiet words. She didn’t fight him but simply flinched, then sagged into him. He hadn’t meant to scare her, but he had no idea if someone was still there, waiting to see if they would slip up and show themselves. The stakes were obviously much higher than he’d first believed. She wasn’t just a kidnapping victim—there was much more going on here.
He’d known people to pay others to kill someone. To kidnap them and make them disappear. But to pay someone to snatch her and keep her alive out of the country, and in the process make her life a living hell for months on end, took a special kind of crazy. It made no sense, and Arrow didn’t like things that didn’t make sense.
He removed his hand from her mouth and lightly caressed her cheek in apology. As if understanding what he didn’t dare say out loud, Morgan silently buried her face into his chest, clutching his vest with its myriad pockets. She didn’t make another sound.
Once more, the admiration Arrow had for this woman tore through him. She hadn’t panicked; not really. The only time he’d seen her lose her cool was when she’d thought he was going to leave her in the alley. He understood. After what she’d been through and being unexpectedly rescued, he wouldn’t want to let his savior out of his sight either.
She hadn’t cried. Hadn’t asked for anything to eat or drink. Hadn’t freaked out when he’d shot a man mere inches from her. Didn’t make a sound when blood had sprayed over her or when the dead man had fallen on top of her. She hadn’t complained when he’d started running, and she’d done everything right by being absolutely silent when they’d almost been discovered. It was unnatural how well she was dealing with everything.
Morgan almost acted as if she’d had military training, but he didn’t think she had. He didn’t remember any of the newscasts talking about her being a veteran. No, it was more that she was acting out of a sense of self-preservation. Had been since she’d been kidnapped, most likely. Arrow had seen the bruises on her arms and neck. He’d seen signs of the physical and mental abuse she’d endured. Not making a sound could’ve been the difference between drawing the attention of whoever was holding her captive and having them ignore her . . . the preference, of course, being the latter.