Chained by REBECCA YORK Read Free Book Online Page B

and breathed out a sigh, leaning into him, feeling
the warmth of his body, even when she knew that was an illusion.
    She said his name again.
    “You were very brave,” he murmured.
    “I guess I had to be.”
    “I blew the others toward the house, and they went in to get
away from the wind. They were inside when the building exploded, but they must
have sent this one to cover the tunnel entrance.”
    She nodded and looked back toward the house. In its place
she saw a huge dust cloud and flames leaping into the air.
    “It’s gone,” she whispered. As that reality struck her, she
sucked in a sharp breath. “You were staying here. What’s going to happen now?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “Don’t leave me.”
    Clasping him more tightly, she raised her face as he lowered
his. Their lips met in a kiss that quickly turned frantic. She hung on to him,
her mouth moving over his with gladness—until a sound penetrated the haze
around her. The blades of a helicopter.
    He looked up.
    “Now what?” she whispered.
    “Hide in the rocks.”
    He was gone again, leaving her alone.
    She scooped up the bag of money and thrust it back into her
knapsack, then slung one strap over her shoulder. If she ran for the car,
they’d see her. But maybe whoever that was would think she had died in the
explosion.
    She worked her way farther into the rock formation and
ducked under a ledge, hoping it would hide her.
    The chopper landed, and she held her breath until she felt
Matthew’s shoulder against hers. When she turned her head, she saw he was
looking more real than he had looked since she’d arrived.
    “Matthew. Gracias a Dios .”
    “It’s okay. They’re Decorah Security agents. One of them is
Frank Decorah, the head of the outfit. I heard him talking to the other men. He
was saying that the general was making a last ditch effort to get your father
because he knew his regime was crumbling. But rebels have assassinated him.
You’re safe now.”
    She struggled to take that in. “Then why did those men come
after me?”
    “They didn’t get the latest news from San Marcos. You’re
safe,” he repeated. “Frank Decorah is looking for you. Go tell him you’re
alive.”
    If anybody else had said that General Lopez was dead, she
might not have believed them. But she believed Matthew.
    “Come with me,” she murmured.
    “You don’t need me now.”
    “I do!”
    “I can’t leave this place.”
    Desperation rolled through her. “Then I’ll stay.”
    “You can’t. The house is a ruin. You have to go on with your
life. If you need anything, ask Frank. Remind him of Powder Keg.”
    “I . . . never met him.”
    “Look for a guy in his fifties. Trim. Dark hair, going gray
at the temples. ”
    “Mention Powder Keg,” he said again. “He’ll remember.”
    “Matthew, stay with me.”
    “You have to go back to your real life. I knew that all
along.”
    He turned and hugged her to him. Just for a moment. Then he
was gone.
    “Senorita Flores,” a man’s voice called. “Senorita Flores,
can you hear me?”
    “What in the hell happened here?” another man asked.
    Still cautious, she kept the gun in her hand as she walked
through the grove and into the yard where the house was a black ruin in front
of her. She stared at it, hardly able to believe what she was seeing. It was
her work. But even though she’d set the timer that detonated the explosives
planted in the foundations of the house, it was still difficult to comprehend
the magnitude of the destruction.
    She didn’t speak—because she felt utterly alone, even with a
rescue team on the property.
    And she knew what the feeling of abandonment must mean.
Matthew was gone. “ Dios no,” she whispered, even when she knew she had
been expecting this terrible moment.
    In reality, he’d been gone for a long time. And it was a
cruel irony that she’d been given a little taste of what she might have had
with him, if he had lived.
    Her chest tightened, as she fought the tears