Serving the Soldier - Part 5 (An Alpha Military Romance) by Helen Grey Read Free Book Online

collapsed weakly into the seat. I didn’t even have the energy to tell Jax that he shouldn’t be driving. Kind of late for that.
    He turned the engine and with barely a glance at me, put the Jeep in reverse. He looked in the rearview mirror, and then once more at me.
    “Buckle up,” he said.
    I didn’t argue, but reached for the shoulder strap, barely having enough energy to tug it from its receptacle and then fasten the seatbelt. Then, I stared dumbly forward, my hands lying limp in my lap, my arms trembling. My wrists felt like they were on fire, and as I glanced down at them, I saw how badly I had scraped the skin off, almost like burns.
    What felt worse, however, was the ache deep inside my wrists. I had no doubt that I had stress fractures, but there wasn’t anything to do about it now. I would have to wait until later to get them wrapped.
    Jax followed a faint trail through the woods and around the side of the lake. We bounced and twisted and turned along the faintest of trails, and then it disappeared. No track to follow. He was breaking fresh ground.
    I frowned. “Are we going back to the house?”
    He shook his head. “No, it’s not safe there anymore. We’re going to a safe house.”
    “Where?” I asked. He gave me a look and his next words chilled me to the core. “It’s better that you not know, Angie, just…”
    “Just in case?”
    He nodded and my heart started pumping again. “Jax, what the hell is going on?”
    “You’re safe now,” he said. “I’ll try to explain later, but for right now, I need to concentrate, okay?”
    He didn’t look at me when I nodded, so I muttered a yes. I glanced down at the console between the seats and saw a half empty container of bottled water. I reached for it and managed to clasp it, but my hands shook so bad that the water inside sloshed against the sides. I ignored the trembling, knew that it was a combination of adrenaline, fatigue, and injury. Slowly untwisting the lid, I took a huge gulp, sighing with relief.
    I couldn’t believe that I was away from Khalil and Ajmal. I had a feeling that had I been under their control much longer, things would not have gone well for me, and would have ended even worse. My head resting against the seat, I turned to watch Jax. His eyes were focused on the road ahead, both hands gripping the wheel.
    Every once in a while, his gaze darted around, glanced in the rearview and passenger-side mirrors, and then forward again. His jaw was set. He looked angry… no, he looked furious.
    “Thank you, Jax,” I said.
    He made a snorting noise. “For what, putting you in danger?” He refused to look at me.
    “Jax, it was my choice to stay—”
    “I should’ve told you to leave, told you to get the hell out of my house.”
    For a moment, I was startled by the vehemence in his voice. “Did you really want me to go?”
    He said nothing for several moments and then gave a slight shake of his head. “No.”
    Neither of us said anything for several minutes. Finally, he broke through the woods and I realized we were now on a deserted rural route. I had no idea where we were going until I saw a small roadside sign announcing upcoming Moncks Corner. He took a frontage road to bypass the downtown area and then veered north. Then, I saw the sign announcing the upcoming Francis Marion National Forest.
    Was a safe house in there?
    It was probably as good a place to hide as any, encompassing several hundred square miles, named after the Revolutionary War hero Francis Marion, otherwise known as the Swamp Fox. I knew the forest was home to dozens of campgrounds and probably hundreds of isolated cabins.
    Back in the late 1980s, the swamp forest had nearly been decimated by hurricane Hugo, but today, much of the forest had regrown, studded with young loblolly and longleaf pines, Palmetto, swampy marshy areas and more creeks than anyone could count.
    Jax’s phone rang. He quickly pulled it out of the side pocket of his cargo pants, the