didn’t make any goddamn sense. Why not be more specific?
And if he knew so damn much about Nathan and had obviously talked to him, why wasn’t he doing more to help than just sending an email? For that matter, how the hell did he have the ability to send an email from here? He’d obviously talked to Nathan. Either he was one of the assholes holding Nathan captive and was helping him on the sly or…or the entire thing was a damn setup.
The more he thought about the situation, the more he didn’t like it. Now the entire KGI organization was on the ground in Afghanistan. In the most dangerous area. No backup. No help from Resnick. No way to guarantee that any of them would get back home.
Donovan glanced over at his brothers. They had no business coming on this mission. They had wives. Garrett had a fiancée. Sam had a daughter. They should have let Donovan come with the rest of KGI and stayed their asses at home.
“Quit looking like you just got a hand job from a drag queen,” Garrett muttered beside him.
“How the fuck do you know what I look like?” Donovan asked irritably. “It’s dark as shit out here.”
“Don’t need to see you to know you have that pinched, tight-ass look on your face. You weren’t coming without us. No way we’d let Nathan rot in some goddamn cave any more than we let Rachel stay in that shithole in Colombia.”
“Yeah, I know,” Donovan said in resignation. “But I don’t have to like it. You and Sam and Ethan have families back home. You’re needed.”
“Nathan is family and so are you. No way we’d leave either of you without as much protection as we can muster, so shut the fuck up and let’s go blow the fuck out of those goatherding motherfuckers who have Nathan.”
Donovan cracked a smile. “Yippee ki-yay.”
“Fuckin’ A.”
“Sarah’s been on you about the language, huh.”
Garrett snarled in response and then muttered a few more F bombs for good measure.
“Yeah, you better get them all out now because when you get back home, no more F words for you.”
“Fuck you, Van. Just fuck you.”
SHEA spread the map out over her bed and studied the highways intently. She chewed absently at her bottom lip as she tried to decide where to go next.
If only she knew more about the people after her and Grace. She didn’t dare go to the police. What was she supposed to tell them? That she and her sister were telepathic and some maniacs were after them but, oh by the way, I don’t know who they are.
For all she knew, it could be the government. It could be the police or the FBI or the CIA or whoever the hell would be interested in Grace’s powers.
What she did know was that she wasn’t going to allow them to take her or Grace and she damn sure wasn’t going to let them use her to get to Grace.
A foreign country sounded nice if she could get out of the United States undetected. She had a passport, but of course, it was in her real name and going to an airport and getting on a plane was like holding up a neon sign that said, “Here I am! Come get me!”
She shook her head in disgust. The only thing she could do was keep moving, at least for now. Until…until when? Without a plan. Without someone to help her, how was she ever going to feel safe again? Whom could she trust?
The million-dollar question. The short answer was no one.
She sat on the edge of the bed for a moment to collect her thoughts. She stared at the map again and mentally traced the path she’d traveled for the last year. The longest she’d stayed in one place was a couple of months.
At first she and Grace had run together, but Shea had quickly surmised that the only smart thing to do was split up. They were too noticeable as a pair. Grace drew enough attention on her own. The contrast between the two sisters was striking. Shea was petite, blond, paler skinned. Grace was taller, darker skinned with long raven hair.
The hardest part had been convincing Grace that not only did they need to