Defending Zara (Mountain Mercenaries #6)(81)

Meat growled. “I hate that your grandparents gave him your number. They had to know he’d harass you for money. I know you said you didn’t want to deal with the hassle of changing your number, but I think it’s time.”

Zara nodded. “If you think I should, fine. I don’t really want to talk to my uncle again. Ever. And after he spread those rumors about me, any chance he might’ve had of getting part of Mom and Dad’s inheritance is pretty much out the window. Do you think I look all right?”

Meat recognized a change in topic when he heard one, and he went with it. “You look beautiful.” And she did. She’d invited Harlow over to help her figure out what to wear. Meat had been a little surprised that she’d reached out to her instead of Renee, but happy all the same. She’d continued to make an effort to get to know the other women since the life-altering experience with Morgan and the birth of her daughter.

Zara had on a pair of khaki pants instead of her usual jeans, and a light-yellow blouse that dipped low in the front, showing off a modest bit of cleavage—not too much, since she’d be on camera. It was a feminine and delicate ensemble, and not something she’d normally wear. She’d been coming out of her shell more and more, willing to show off her femininity just a little. Meat couldn’t give a shit what she wore as long as she was comfortable, but he couldn’t help admiring her. He was as proud of her as he could be, and thankful every day that she was with him.

“Okay, it looks like it’s about time,” Zara said. “Wish me luck.”

“You don’t need luck,” Meat told her. “Just be yourself. I’ll be right here watching you, and the other guys will be situated around the room just in case. Everly’s here with some of her most trusted friends on the CSPD, and they’ll take care of things if the press gets unruly. Chloe and Harlow are in the crowd as well, and Allye and Morgan will be here after it’s over, waiting for you with their babies. I think I even saw Renee in the crowd as well. You’ve got this. You aren’t alone.”

Zara took a deep breath and nodded. “Here goes nothing.” Then she turned and walked through a side door into the large room, onto the platform that had been set up for her. The second the reporters saw her, a hush descended on the room, and it was quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

Meat slipped into the room when all the attention was on Zara, and watched with both dread and pride as the woman he loved held her head high and addressed the crowd.



Zara thought she was going to puke. She wanted to do this. To set the record straight. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t scared out of her mind.

Her eyes skimmed the crowd staring at her, and it made her feel ten times better to see the people she could now call her friends there supporting her. Renee gave her a little thumbs-up, and Zara nodded at her briefly before she began speaking.

“Thank you all for being here. I apologize for not setting this up before now. I’ve had a hard time adjusting to life here in the States. It’s very strange to go from having literally nothing to having everything—running water, food whenever I want it, money to buy clothes and whatever other odds and ends I need. I also wasn’t ready to tell my story. Maybe I’m still not. But because of all the false rumors and ridiculous accounts being made up about what happened to me, I want to set the record straight.”

It seemed as if no one in the room even breathed. As if they were holding their breaths waiting for her to spill secrets about where a buried treasure was hidden or something. It was crazy. Red lights from cameras blinked steadily, reminding Zara that what she said would be transmitted all over the country, and possibly the world. She had to be careful not to say anything that would put her friends back in Peru in danger, put del Rio on their trail.

Taking a deep breath, she began. “When I was ten years old, my parents told me they were taking me on vacation to a wonderful country called Peru . . .”

Twenty minutes later, Zara felt as if she’d run a marathon.

She could feel the sweat dripping down her back, and her voice was hoarse from speaking. She’d been completely honest, down to the way she’d been scared to come out of the hole in the wall she’d found to hide in, and how day after day, she kept thinking someone would find her.

She explained how, eventually, she’d stopped expecting to be rescued and concentrated on making it from one day to the next without getting beaten or raped. She did her best to downplay the Mountain Mercenaries’ role in her rescue, not mentioning them by name, simply saying that when a group of Americans who were on a joint task force with the Peruvian military had happened to find her, she’d told them her story, and the rest was history.

She felt raw and vulnerable and wanted nothing more than to walk out of the room, now that she’d finished. But she’d promised to answer questions, and that was what she was going to do.

The chief of police was there to help facilitate the question-and-answer period, and he stepped up to explain how the next part of the press conference was going to work.

The first questions were fairly innocuous. Things like, “How did it feel to be home?” and “What was the first thing you ate when you got back?”

But they quickly got tougher after that.

Many people wanted to know about her money, how much her parents had left her, and what her plans were now that she was rich. Zara did her best to deflect those, not wanting to get into her financial situation. She had enough people emailing—and now calling, thanks to her uncle leaking her phone number—wanting money.