Hunted by Jaycee Clark Read Free Book Online

Bastards.
    Shadow shut the door and said to her, “George, the driver, went to park the car. He is the doctor. He takes blood samples of all our girls and tests them for the normal STDs, HIV, pregnancy, and any other abnormalities.”
    Something flickered in her eyes, but it was quickly masked. “That would be my luck. I escape hell only to suffer from some disease some asshole passed on while he raped me.” Dusk licked her lips. Her garish clothing was as out of place in the simple dwelling as a gambler at a church choir practice.
    He fisted his hands, wishing he could ease her, knowing there was no way he could. And she was right. It wasn’t fair to escape, only to be told you had a disease. But little in life was fair, he knew.
    “It’s all right,” John said. “You’re out. It’s a start. One thing at a time, then? Let’s get cleaned up and then do whatever else we have to.”
    Her icy blue eyes met his across the room and something in him twisted at that chilled level look. “I just want to go home. You better get me home, because I know what he does to those who try to escape.”
    He watched as Becca herded her up the stairs to the bathrooms.
    John rubbed his hands over his face, paced the small living area complete with one lumpy couch and a couple of armchairs. Nothing anyone would notice. Just a lounge in a flat for singles of the college circuit.
    What next? Had he covered everything? Yes. There was no trace of who he was and he hadn’t lied about only having an hour or so. Part of him wished they could have waited for this mission, but they’d finally found her and she’d been listed missing for over six bloody months. Six months. He didn’t want to think about what she’d endured. So they’d moved, even though a team had removed another American just two weeks ago. Risky, back to back, but the bosses spoke and everyone scrambled to obey.
    Now if tonight would just go right. The coppers would need to identify the burnt corpse, run some numbers on the car, but then they’d obtained an untraceable one, so that was in their favor. Yet things had a way of appearing perfect and being tangled as bloody hell. He figured it was better to plan for the worst and hope it didn’t happen.
    The front door opened and John whirled, pulling his gun. George.
    Of course it was George. Blimey. He raked a hand through his hair.
    “Someone is a bit on edge,” George muttered, locking the door behind him.
    John ignored him. Shadow leaned against the wall.
    None of the three downstairs said a word until they heard water running.
    He paced back and forth and thought about what still lay ahead. Getting from here to the border and beyond. Everything was about timing. He’d lied when he told her not to worry. They should worry. If they didn’t get out of Prague before Jezek noticed he’d been duped, there would be someone at every rail station, airport and toll.
    Organized crime was bleeding organized for a reason.
    “Passports?” he asked, striding over to the table.
    “Yes,” Shadow answered, pushing away from the wall. “After Becca gets done with her, we’ll take the photo and we’ll be ready to go.”
    “She doesn’t show signs of being an addict,” George offered, striding into the kitchen. “Though I’m certain she was given something at some point. The question is what and when.”
    Maybe, but he’d noticed the needle marks. “Not too long ago. There were recent track marks on her right arm. We’ll pray you’re right.”
    He took a deep breath and smelled the smoke and filth from the club. The smoke from the cigars he and the Devil had shared. The filth? Probably his imagination, but he felt the need to shower and change.
    “How long has she been in again?” George asked him.
    Why was it all doctors asked questions they already had the answers to?
    “I don’t know a precise date.” John raked a hand through his hair and felt the brittle ends, not quite his own. He furrowed his forehead,