Page 11 of Haze of Obedience

"Is it just me, or does Santiago have some weird fetishes?"

"Not just you. I think—"

The ladder appears, and a man in all black, tall and built, wearing night goggles, climbs down. Vanessa and I cling together, and my heart beats faster.

"We're here to rescue you. I need all of you to go, one at a time, but quickly and quietly," he whispers.

"You've gotta be kidding me," Vanessa mutters.

Everyone freezes.

Rescue us? Who are they?

They must be attached to the Global Leaders and came to take Santiago down.

Part of me wants to stay in the pit instead of going back to Jonas Torres. The other side wants to get away from Santiago.

Penelope and Julieta, don't hesitate and go first. Then the man points to me.

There's no point fighting it. Your fate is sealed.

I climb up to the top. Three men are waiting with guns. They're all in black, chiseled, and I pinch my arm, wondering if I'm hallucinating.

And who cares. They are connected to the Global Leaders.

"Ma'am, you're mine. Let's go," a man murmurs. He's wearing the same goggles as the others, and from what I can see, his face is just as sculpted as his body. But most of his face is covered.

He's American. Texan, I bet. He's got a slight drawl.

Probably works for the President.

I shudder, thinking about the night I had to spend with the U.S. President and almost tell the mysterious man in black that I'm not his. That he doesn't own me and I don't need another man claiming me. But I don't have time. He puts one hand on my back and his other in mine and guides me toward the trees.

"Ow," I cry out.

"Shhh," he reprimands me.

My heels are sinking in the ground.

"Stilettos in the jungle," he mumbles and picks me up.

He smells like...oh my God, I don't know what but so good.

He's part of them. Get your head in the game. Who knows where he's taking you.

"It's not like I went to my jungle closet and chose them," I whisper in Spanish to annoy him and because I'm not sure how I can fight back. He's going to transfer me from one monster to another.

His lips tic up. He says in a teasing voice, "And a sequin dress. Who wears a sequin dress in the jungle?"

I continue in Spanish, and he continues in English.

"Sorry. I'll fill my jungle closet with camouflage next time. Tell your boss."

"Watch your head," he puts his hand on my head and presses, so my face is on his muscular chest.

Why does he have to smell so good?

You've just been in the jungle too long.