Thank God for Jenna.
She had defied him and risked getting shot herself to care for him and for Jones. She’d slowed his bleeding and done her best to ease his pain. Then she’d thrown herself on top of him, trying to protect him. She’d even called Qassim a dog.
Don’t you touch him!
Yeah, Jenna had her brother’s strength.
She sat in the seat in front of him, arguing with Qassim, hidden under a burqa. “I’m a nurse! Let me care for him unless you want the death of an important U.S. citizen on your hands.”
Jenna, be careful.
Qassim and his men laughed.
“Shut up, woman, or I’ll cut out your tongue!”
Derek wanted to tell Jenna to keep quiet, to stay passive, but he didn’t want to give away the fact that he was conscious. The weaker he seemed, the better the chance that Qassim would underestimate him. Not that he’d be any good in a fight just this minute, especially not trussed like a turkey.
“You wouldn’t dare! I know you know who my father is. If you want money from him, you’d be wise not to touch me.”
Then again, Jenna seemed to be holding her own against these fuckers.
“When we get to the camp, we’re going to pass you around, let all of the men enjoy you, and when we’re done, we’ll let the dogs have you. Isn’t that right?”
Men’s laughter and shouts of agreement.
“Be quiet, Perooz. No one is to harm her. Any man who touches her faces me.”
So, the mouthy bastard was Qassim’s son, the punk who’d left the car bomb.
Derek was going to enjoy killing him.
They turned off the highway and onto a rutted road, the jarring motion forcing Derek to grit his teeth to keep from groaning.
Son of a bitch!
“This bouncing might make him bleed to death. Please, let me help him.”
“It might be better for him to die now.” That was Qassim. “You we won’t touch, buthekilled more than a dozen of my men and passed information to The Lion.”
“He was just doing his job, protectingme.”
It put a hitch in Derek’s chest to hear her fighting so hard for him. But if she was expecting forgiveness or mercy from Qassim, she was going to be disappointed. The folks around here werestillangry at Genghis Khan, and he’d been dead for a while now.
“Cobra has more money than my father,” Jenna said. “He’s worth more to you than I am. You’re a fool if you harm him or let him die.”
Derek wasn’t worried—not yet, anyway. By abducting him and Jenna, and attacking, injuring, and possibly killing Cobra operatives, Qassim had brought a metric shit ton of pain down on his head. He just didn’t know it yet.
More ruts.
Pain lanced through Derek’s shoulder and chest, drove the breath from his lungs.
Fuck!
“He’s awake.” Perooz peered at him over the back seat, grinning.
“Let me at least check to make sure he’s not bleeding to death.”
“Be quick,” said Qassim. “If you try to escape, I will kill him.”