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He stopped in front of her, opened his mouth, but nothing other than a croak emerged. He cleared his throat and tried again. Nothing.
What the hell?
* * *
Aubrey looked up at the wild-haired, red-eyed stranger. He wore fatigues and was heavily armed, so she knew he was one of the people who’d rescued the human trafficking victims. He was tall, maybe about six-two, had dark brown hair that looked both wild and dirty. His face was covered with some kind of ash or soot.
Though his demeanor wasn’t threatening in the least, she couldn’t help but take a step back. There was something about him that felt oddly familiar. It was both exciting and alarming.
She hadn’t known what to expect when he opened his mouth to speak, but it certainly hadn’t been silence. He appeared to be struggling for words.
Compassion overriding her fear, she stepped forward and touched his arm in concern. “Are you okay?”
When he shook his head and gestured to his throat, she understood that, for whatever reason, he couldn’t speak.
“Do you need some help?” She glanced around for a doctor or medic who might be able to assist him.
His expression one of both exasperation and frustration, the man shook his head. He turned to look behind him, and seconds later, another man came to stand beside him.
About the same size, this man had coal-black hair and startling silver eyes that twinkled with amusement. He gave Aubrey a charming smile and said, “Forgive my friend. He’s a bit shy until you get to know him.”
The disheveled man gave his friend a narrow-eyed glare and the man hurriedly added, “He had an encounter with a smoke bomb and can’t speak right now.”
“Oh…I’m sorry about your voice.” She flashed a smile at both men. “You were involved in the rescue?”
“Yes,” the silver-eyed man said.
“You probably get told this all the time, but I just want to s
ay thank you for what you do.”
The dark-haired man shrugged. “Glad we can do something.” He glanced at the silent man beside him. “If he could talk, he’d probably say something charming, like, ‘Who are you?’ And, ‘Why are you here?’”
“My name is Aubrey Starr. I’m a documentary filmmaker. Human trafficking, the horror and devastation it causes, is something I became interested in years ago. I don’t think people understand how virulent it is and how it encompasses every aspect of our lives. I—”
She caught her breath. She was about to go on a tirade but these men knew more about the horror of human trafficking than she ever would. They’d been in the trenches saving lives. She was just a filmmaker.
“What you do is important,” the silver-eyed stranger said. “The public needs to know.”
She had a ton of questions she wanted to ask. On the verge of developing a mental list of all the things she wanted to know, she shifted gears when one of the aid workers called out to her, “Aubrey, we’re ready.”
“That’s my cue.” She flashed a smile at both men. “Nice talking to you.” She sent a sympathetic smile to the mute man. “I hope your voice comes back soon.”
She walked toward the bus, but when she heard a loud guffaw, she turned back to see that the man who couldn’t speak had given his friend a rude hand gesture and stalked away.
Smiling, Aubrey stepped up onto the bus. She wished she’d been able to spend more time with them. Not only would it be fascinating to get insight into the ins and outs of a rescue operation, the zing of attraction she’d felt had been exhilarating.
The moment she got inside, she lost her smile. This was the reason she was here, the reason she’d become obsessed with telling their stories. The faces of the lost, the forgotten.
She’d fought hard to get here, to be taken seriously. Getting distracted, no matter the reason, couldn’t happen. She was on a quest. Nothing could get in her way, not even a wild-haired, red-eyed man who’d lost his voice and risked his life to save others. Someday maybe…but not yet.
Chapter Seven
Present Day
Indianapolis, Indiana
“Hey, Stryker. You see El Diablo yet?”