Page 34 of Deadly Storms (Sunrise Lake #3)

The low hissing brought Shabina out of her half stupor.

She’d heard that sound before. It was no snake slithering through the desert sand toward her.

The increasing sound was layers of sand being lifted and driven ahead of the wind.

Her heart accelerated in time with the gathering force. It was now or never.

Scorpion had made his first mistake and it was huge.

He’d been called away, and this time, along with his cabinet, he’d taken the two men who were good to her.

He had tasked those left behind with keeping her alive.

She was in bad shape, far worse than Scorpion wanted to believe.

They were giving her blood, feeding her intravenously and even providing fluids because she was too weak after his last furious assault on her to survive on her own.

Before he left, Iyad pressed a knife into her hand as he bent over her supposedly to check that she was still breathing.

He whispered that he was sorry and that the shame was shared by all his people.

He thought he knew what she intended to do.

She still wanted to protect him. She didn’t know if the knife could be traced back to him.

The sound of drums joined the hissing, swelling in volume.

She tore the lines out of her arms, heedless of the pain.

She barely noticed it with the agony she experienced with every tiny movement of her body.

She had almost no skin on her back, and the stab wounds in her left thigh were still open.

When the sandstorm hit, anywhere on the human body that wasn’t covered, the sand could take the skin right off.

With open wounds and no clothing, she would be in trouble.

That was to her advantage. No one, least of all her guards, would think her capable of moving, let alone attacking them during such an event.

The hissing and drumming increased as she rolled from the thin pallet onto the desert floor.

Black spots played behind her eyes as she hit the ground.

Agony sent bile rising so that she retched over and over.

She was used to pain, but trying to get on top of this was horrendous.

She had no idea if she could do it. Consciousness kept coming and going as she began to drag herself across the sand toward the men in the distance, as they hurried to wrap themselves in blankets.

A roar grew, swallowing every sound. The dim light of a partial moon was snuffed out to be replaced by total darkness. The sand hit, abrasive, cruel, cutting into her already-torn body. She rolled, trying to escape the whipping particles as they roared into the camp at a good sixty miles an hour.

—

Shabina found herself on the floor of her bedroom, her dogs pushing against her as she buried her face in her hands. Her chest felt on fire, and the pain in her left thigh was intense and throbbing. She couldn’t stop the horrific memories from flooding her mind.

“I can’t do this,” she whispered to the Dobermans. “I just can’t do this anymore.”

She dragged herself up to her bed and sat on the edge, rocking herself back and forth. She had to make it all stop. Her face was wet, and she continually wiped at it with shaking hands. “You have to go outside, boys,” she whispered. “I can’t have you in here.”

She couldn’t have them in the house with her. She had no idea what she was going to do. She didn’t trust her judgment. The dogs crowded around, and she scratched, patted and petted them, all the while crying silent tears. So many tears running down her face.

She had no idea how much time passed but she managed to force her stiff, painful body up. She was impossibly weak. She didn’t think she would make it to the front door, so she let the dogs into the garden through the side door and relocked it before going back to her bedroom.

Her favorite pistol was where she kept it at night, under her pillow.

Once more she slid down to the floor, drawing up her knees, making herself as small as possible.

Placing the gun beside her left thigh, she pulled out her cell phone.

She had to get it over with. She had to call Rainier.

Once she’d warned him, she could try to clear her mind enough to think straight.

Shabina knew she shouldn’t punch the number into her private cell, not when she was this far gone, because he might know. She was completely falling apart, but she had to warn him.

Rainier knew her better than anyone else.

She had never called him before. It would be so unlike her.

And she intended to thank him for everything he’d done for her.

And give him his life back. He deserved that.

She just had to find a way to sound completely composed for a few minutes while she spoke with him.

This wasn’t a government number. She wouldn’t be calling in an army.

No one else would know or hear their conversation.

She needed help, and the only person who could help her was at the other end of that line, and she couldn’t ask him to come.

There would be no one later to listen to a recording and analyze her voice.

Shaking, chin on her knees, she waited for him to answer. It took less than three seconds.

“Are you safe?”

On the heels of Rainier Ashcroft’s demand came a distinctive feminine laugh. “He’s occupied, honey. Call back later.”

Shabina pressed her fingers over her mouth to shove back the sobs threatening to escape and froze like a little mouse. Not again. She was always ruining Rainier’s life. It was never going to end.

He was with someone. A woman. Unlike her, he had a life.

He deserved to have a life. She thought she’d taken that from him.

Ruined everything for him. Now it was happening all over again.

How stupid to think he wasn’t living with a woman.

Why hadn’t she considered that? It was what she’d always wanted for him, so why did it hurt so bad? Why did she feel absolutely shattered?

Rainier swore, the words ugly and merciless, so like him. The woman shrieked. “What are you doing? I don’t have my clothes. You can’t throw me out naked. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“You’re lucky I don’t cut your throat. Get out and don’t ever let me see you again.”

That was very distinctive and so like Rainier.

He was on the move. Shabina could tell. She broke the connection between them and hugged her knees tighter, rocking back and forth.

She had no one. No one. She was slowly losing her mind.

There was nowhere to go. She would never find her way out of this minefield alone.

She’d tried everything she could think of on her own. She was so tired of being alone.

Her cell announced a text. She lifted the phone, knowing if she didn’t answer, all hell would break loose, but she didn’t know if she could speak to Rainier and convince him she was perfectly fine. She could barely breathe as she read his text.

You fucking better answer and code in or I’ll be sending every branch of the service and special units your way in ten seconds.

The phone buzzed. She took a deep breath and did her best to sound normal. “Rainier, it’s your private cell, not the panic cell. Stop being dramatic. I’m fine.”

“Code, damn it.” A door slammed. He was already moving. She heard him murmuring orders into another phone.

She had to take another deep breath to keep a sob from escaping. “Sandstorms cover secrets.” Whatever orders he was giving, she hoped he rescinded quickly.

“Are you alone?”

“Rainier.” She couldn’t say anything else. Of course, she was alone. She was always alone. She pressed the phone to her forehead, trying to think of a way not to sound pitiful. “I have to end the call. I’m fine now. I just had a bad moment.”

“I’ll be there in a few. Don’t shoot me, Qadri .”

“No. No, that’s why I called. You can’t come here.” A sob welled up, and she jammed her fist in her mouth to cover the sound before she took another choking breath.

“Keep talking,” he said tersely.

He was still moving. She hadn’t stopped him.

She needed to. “Please, for once in your life, listen to me. I never call you. I wouldn’t have if this wasn’t absolutely imperative.

Two men claiming to be Interpol agents came here asking questions about an assassin they called Deadly Storms. They said they were from Paris, but I don’t believe them.

They claimed the assassin worked for Scorpion, but their story didn’t make any sense.

They weren’t asking about Scorpion, only Deadly Storms.”

“When did they talk to you?” His voice was clipped. Imperious. So Rainier.

“Yesterday. The day before. I don’t know. I’m mixed up. Just take your life back. Thank you for everything. I would never have gotten this far without you. You mean the world to me, Rainier, but I want you to live your life free of worrying about me. Be safe.”

There was that lump choking her. Tears wouldn’t stop. She was sick to her stomach. Rocking like a two-year-old. Grateful he couldn’t see her. She could hear the engine of a car, and he was snapping more orders into another phone.

“You didn’t call me the minute they questioned you?” Now his voice dropped even lower, always a bad sign with Rainier. “These men are extremely dangerous. Were you alone?”

“No, Raine and Zahra were here.”

She was terrified she was going to be sick, her stomach lurching terribly. Her skin was sweaty, but she was freezing, shaking with cold.

“I’ll be talking to Raine, asking her why she didn’t call. One of you should have.”