If she didn’t know better, she’d almost think he was trying his bestnotto put pressure on her injured core. He also didn’t have an accent, which was also odd in this region. Well, hedid, but it sounded almost like…
A southern drawl?
“Who…” She cleared the dryness from her throat. “W-who are you?”
“My name is Beckett Stone.” The man took a step back, keeping his voice low enough for only her to hear. “I’m an American, and my team and I are here to take you home.”
Confusion tore through her as she stared up at her newest captor. Because the room was so dark, it took her a moment to process what she was seeing…and what this man had just said.
He wasn’t dressed like the others. Or like any of the local Afghan men she’d seen during her time here, for that matter.Instead, he had on a helmet, a camouflage shirt and pants, and a protective vest that held extra ammunition—among other things she couldn’t even begin to guess.
In the center of that vest was a patch. Not just any patch, however. An American flag.
Evie’s eyes flew back up to his. “Y-you’re really American?”
Even in the shadows, she could see the man’s scruff-covered lips curve into a small smile. “Born and raised.”
Her own knees threatened to buckle as she threw herself into the stranger’s arms. Having surprised him with the unexpected move, it took him two full seconds to react. But then?—
“Hey,” Beckett crooned, wrapping his arms around her in a warm and gentle embrace. “It’s okay. We’re here now, and you’re safe.”
After a few wonderful seconds, he pulled back. An assessing gaze fell over her tear-filled face, but then…
Beckett’s expression turned lethal as he slowly lifted a hand toward her split and swollen lip. “You’re hurt.” The low growl a direct conflict with his soft, gentle touch.
“Just some bruises,” she did her best to brush off his concern.
“Where else?”
“I’m okay. Really.”
Okaywas a bit of a stretch, and from the look on Beckett’s face, he knew it. Countless questions whirled in Evie’s overwhelmed mind, but for a moment, she reveled in the fact that help had finally arrived.
Tears of relief poured from the corners of her eyes because she knew—sheknew—that this man was the answer to her prayers. But then she remembered…
“My students!” Evie blurted much too loudly. Lowering her voice, she rushed to tell him, “There are four young girls being held here, too. I’m their teacher, and I need to get to?—”
“The girls are fine,” Beckett promised. “They’re with one of my teammates. All four are safe and already headed to the chopper.”
“Oh, thank God!” More tears fell as the rest of what he’d said sank in. “Wait…you have a helicopter?”
That smile of his grew with a hint of a nod. “Yes, Ma’am. And trust me, Falcon will guard those girls with his life.”
“Falcon?”
With every new detail Beckett shared came more questions.
“Falcon is my teammate who’s taking care of the girls,” he explained. Then, as if he’d read her most recent thoughts, he added, “Look, I know you probably have a ton of questions, but right now, we need to focus on getting you the hell out of here and back with your students. Sound good?”
Good? No, it didn’t sound good. It sounded more like…
A miracle.
She’d prayed for one, and here he was…standing right before her like a camo-wearing warrior. There was always a chance he was lying, she supposed. But Evie didn’t think so.
This man hadn’t caused her harm in any way, despite having had multiple opportunities. In fact, Beckett had gone out of his way to make sure hehadn’thurt her. Or at least, that’s how it had felt.
He was clearly an American, and since she was out of options, at this point, anyway, she decided to go with her gut and trust he was speaking the truth.