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I gripped the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turned white as I navigated the dark, twisting road. Red sat beside me for what felt like a fucking eternity, her vulnerability and torment evident in every sweet line of her body.

And it turned me on in the most fucked-up way.

I shot her a quick glance, watching her delicate fingers clench and unclench in her lap. It sent a bolt of heat straight to my core. Her trembling lips, the way her fingers gripped the seat—fuck, it drove me wild. It took every ounce of self-control not to pull over and ravish her right there, to lose ourselves in a tangle of limbs and raw, animal pleasure.

I stole another dirty look at her, her vulnerability like a damn siren’s call, tempting me to throw away all decency. I could almost taste her, feel her skin under my hands, but I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to focus on the goddamn road.

The way she looked at me—fragile, but full of fire—it fucked with my head. Every time she shifted in her seat, the brush of her clothes against her curves was a torment to my senses.

My body was screaming, muscles coiled tight with raw, pent-up hunger. The tension in the car was suffocating, thick with unspoken, filthy desires. My grip on the steering wheel tightened, muscles straining as I held back. Every inch of me was on fire, wanting to claim her, to fuck her senseless until we were both nothing but a mess of sweat and need.

I fought against it, clenching my jaw so hard it damn near broke. But fuck, it was a struggle. Every word out of her mouth, every goddamn breath she took, only stoked the flames inside me. I had never felt anything like it, this all-consuming hunger that messed with my head and drove me insane.

I didn’t get it. I’d had women—plenty of them. They were just a quick release, a way to ease the tension. But with Red it was different. It was fucking madness.

Her pain, her vulnerability, it woke something primal in me. The way she looked at me with those defiant, hungry eyes, it made my blood boil. I wanted to tear her apart, consume her, claim her like some fucking beast.

No other woman had ever done this to me. It was like she’d crawled into the darkest corners of my mind and unleashed hell. My usual control, my distance, was slipping right through my fingers.

I craved her. I wanted to mark her, make her scream my name until there was no doubt who she belonged to. The thought of her writhing beneath me, moaning, begging for more—it made me lose my fucking mind. I wanted to claim her in a way that left no question about it.

I tried telling myself it was just the lack of real women around here, that any guy would get twisted up with a woman like her standing this close, dressed like that, skin glistening with sweat. But every time I looked at her, it felt like a fuse inside me got shorter, burning hotter.

It pissed me off, too—this attraction that made no damn sense. We were in the middle of a war zone, hell practically spilling over outside, and here I was with my brain wrapped around the thought of how she’d look under me, skin against skin, feeling those soft curves pressing into me.

I’d barely met her, barely even knew her, and yet every time I caught a whiff of that faint scent of hers, clean and sharp even under the desert grime, it scrambled my thoughts in a way that was way past decent.

I slammed my foot on the gas, the engine roaring as I buried those wicked thoughts deep inside. Red’s vulnerability might ignite every dark desire in me, but I wasn’t about to let it take over. She deserved better than a rough, fucked-up release on the side of the road. I wouldn’t ruin what little connection we had left with my raw, base needs.

I pulled the SUV over, the engine growling to a stop as dust kicked up around us. The fuel gauge was nearly on empty, and we were out of options. No way we could detour, and driving through the city meant the Talibans would be all over us.

“The car doesn’t have enough gas to go around the city and dodge the insurgents,” I informed Red, my eyes locking on her petite frame. “So, we need to cross Jalalabad on foot. It’s the only way we’ll have a chance of slipping through undetected.”

Her eyes welled with fear as she realized what this meant. “Are you serious?” she questioned, her voice rising with her incredulity.

I shot her a a pissed-off look. “Dead serious,” I bit back.

She let out a frustrated grunt. “Fine, let’s get this over with,” she mumbled.

I shook my head, eyeing her outfit. “You’re gonna get us both killed if you walk in there looking like that,” I continued, shifting my stance and crossing my arms over my chest.

Her jaw dropped as the words hit. “I never went outside the medical camp. What makes you think I’m carrying spare clothes around with me?” she mumbled, a bit of anger seeping into her timbre.

I sighed in frustration and pinched the bridge of my nose. “We need to find you some clothes,” I said, my tone stern but not completely annoyed. “You’re gonna attract every predator in a hundred-mile radius.”

She shot me a withering glare in response. “Apologies, I didn’t bring my nun outfit because I was a bit preoccupied with, you know, escaping.”

She had to push, had to test me like she always fucking did. Her words were like a slap, stinging, cutting deep. I rubbed my temples, trying to keep my cool, but the urge to grab her by the collar and shake some sense into her was overwhelming.

“For fuck’s sake, stop with the attitude,” I warned, daring her to challenge me again. “I don’t want to hear one more word out of you,” I added, through gritted teeth. “Is that clear?”

I yanked her arm hard, fingers digging into her skin as I shoved the door open. Didn’t give a fuck about her protests. She stumbled, smacking into me, tits pressed right against my chest.

My grip tightened, and she let out this soft little sigh as her body rubbed up against mine. Damn near sent me over the edge. The way she fit against me—it was like a drug I couldn’t quit.

“Stay close to me,” I said quietly, my eyes scanning the streets for anything that moved.

She just nodded, sticking tight as we crept through the filthy streets of Jalalabad. I kept my eyes peeled, every muscle tense, ready to tear apart anything that got in our way. The night was our only cover, but fuck, we couldn’t afford to fuck up.

Then my eyes landed on a clothesline, an abaya and niqab swinging in the wind. A wicked grin crept across my face as an idea took root.

“What are you doing?” Red asked, clearly not trusting my sudden change in mood.

“Don’t ask,” I said, offering no more explanation than that. “Just follow me.”

She raised an eyebrow at my cryptic response, but she kept her mouth shut. I made my move, snatching the abaya and niqab from the line, feeling that rush—same one I got from a good fight. Made my blood pump.

“Jackpot,” I whispered, my fingers itching to grab them.

It was like stealing candy from a baby, except this candy was the garb of a Muslim woman.

“Put these on,” I commanded, thrusting the abaya and niqab into her hands.

She glared at me for a second before slipping into the abaya. Watching her pull it over her head, I couldn’t help but stare. Fucking hell, even covered up, she was killing me. The way her clothes fit on her body, she might as well have been wearing nothing at all.

My eyes trailed over every inch of her, imagining what it’d be like to rip it all off. The way her tits swelled under the cloth, the outline of her thighs—I was hard as a rock just from looking.

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to look away before I did something stupid.

“Let’s move,” I managed to spit out, trying to shake off the fire building inside me.

I led the way, every nerve on edge, ready to tear apart anyone who got in our path. The streets were a fucking nightmare—years of war and decay clinging to every inch. Filth everywhere, the stench of rot thick in the air. The city was like a damn graveyard, and we were the only living things creeping through its guts. Every step felt like walking through hell.

I glanced back at Red. Her face was pale, fear written all over it, her green eyes wide and filled with panic. Her lips parted like she was about to scream, her breathing ragged and shallow. I couldn’t tell if she was scared of me or the shit out there waiting for us, but either way, I squeezed her hand tighter. I wasn’t about to let her fall apart on me, not now.

Her nails dug into my skin, clinging to me like I was her lifeline. I could feel her heart racing, her breaths hot against my neck.

“Stop looking like I’m about to lead you to your death,” I grunted with a smirk.

Her gaze hardened, and she squared her shoulders, pissed off now instead of scared. “What the hell do you want me to do?” she shot back, clearly not taking my comment well. “You want me to smile? Laugh? I’m terrified!”

I kept quiet, letting the wind blow through the empty streets for a moment before stepping up closer, until my face was inches from hers.

“Stop acting like a little girl, Red. This is what you signed up for.” Her arms crossed tight over her chest, her expression going from fear to straight-up fury. Her face turned red as she stepped forward, her fists clenched and her expression pissed.

“Excuse me?!” She leaned in, getting right up in my face. “I didn’t sign up to be your personal punching bag.”

I couldn’t hold back a faint smile. “Of course she’d turn this into a gender issue.”

Red looked like I’d slapped her. “You are such a dickhead.”

I rolled my lips together into a snarky grin as I replied with a tinge of condescension in his voice, “What was that? I can’t hear you over the sound of me being right.”

She let out a heavy sigh, shaking her head as she looked up at me. “I hate you, Rogue.”

I raised an eyebrow, the slightest hint of a smile flashing across my face as I studied her with an icy glare. “Did I hit a nerve?”

She scowled even harder, her fists clenched at her sides. “It’s not just one nerve. It’s the damn nerve center,” she seethed.

I chuckled darkly. “Is there something you want to share with the class, Doc?” I goaded, unable to hide my amusement as she continued to fume.

“Nothing you’d ever understand,” she spat back, her voice cold enough to freeze ice.

Before we could tear each other apart, the sound of shouting and screaming ripped through the air, interrupting our argument. Me and Red both paused, our gaze darting around for what was causing the commotion. The shouts grew louder, and my eyes widened as I recognized the voice of a woman.

“Oh, for the love of...” I swore, glancing around.

I grabbed Red’s arm and dragged her behind a jagged stone wall, barely enough to shield us. Our bodies pressed tight together, both of us desperate for any cover we could get.

“Goddamn it,” I muttered, more to myself than her. “Stay low.”

My hand reached out and grabbed hers, not out of love or friendship, but more like a last-ditch effort to keep her from getting us both killed.

Instinctively, I pulled Red closer to me, my arm wrapping tightly around her waist, our bodies touching in a way that would make any other day feel illicit. Now, however, it felt like survival.

“We’re screwed, aren’t we?” Red asked, sounding defeated and exhausted.

“Pretty much, yes,” I confirmed, blunt as hell.

Through the cracks in the wall, I spotted a group of Taliban bastards. My eyes narrowed as I saw them dragging a woman across the ground, her cries slicing through the night air. They rained punches down on her, the sickening sound of fists on flesh filling the silence.

“Oh god...” Red whispered, her voice quaking.

Blood gushed through the air, splattering against the ground in thick streaks of crimson. It was a fucking massacre. I could barely stand there and watch, my muscles tight enough to snap a steel bar.

I wanted to charge in and rip those Taliban assholes apart, bone by bone, but I knew it’d be a suicide mission for both of us. I had no weapon, no hope in hell of taking on all those dirtbags by myself.

I held Red tightly in my arms, my arms wrapped around her like a motherfucking bear hug, not because I cared, but because I wanted to make sure she wasn’t going anywhere.

That was just a lie I told myself to make me feel better.

My arms were locked around her, fingers digging into her skin like I could squeeze the life out of her if I had to. The only play was to stay hidden like rats, hoping the predator didn’t find us.

“If you make one sound, we’re both dead. Got it?”

Her eyes widened in terror, but she nodded, her head bouncing against my chest like a pinball.

The adrenaline was rushing through my bloodstream like a junkie doing a line, making my heart pound like a drum in a sleazy strip club.

I could feel her heartbeat too, thumping against my chest like a second heart, keeping time with mine. Her soft, supple skin, the way her hips gently swayed against my groin, how her breath hitched as we huddled together—it was fucked up how right it felt in the middle of this nightmare.

Shit.

The world was on fire, but with her in my arms, everything just felt... right.

Okay, back to fucking Earth.

We had to stay hidden, stay quiet, and hope like hell those Taliban fuckers didn’t sniff us out. We were knee-deep in shit, and it was only gonna get worse.

I strained to make out the guttural bullshit they were spewing. It was just noise to me, but then something clicked. Something in their tone sent a chill up my spine. I glanced at Red. Her eyes were wide, and I knew she had questions, but before she could say a damn word, I pressed a finger to her lips, shutting her up.

One of those sick bastards snatched up a stack of books and hurled them at the woman. The pieces clicked in my head, and my blood ran ice-cold as I realized what the fuck was happening. These twisted assholes were killing her for the crime of reading. Fucking reading. The books—symbols of knowledge, freedom—were enough to make these depraved wankers lose their shit. Words on a page, ideas that challenged their pathetic, backward world—they couldn’t handle it. In their warped minds, that was worth a death sentence.

My grip tightened on Red as I fought to suppress the guttural growl of fury that rose in my throat. She shivered beside me, her body trembling in terror like a bird fluttering its wings. I clamped my hand over her mouth, muffling any sound that might slip out, silently pleading for her to keep her shit together. My heart was hammering so loud it felt like it’d burst out of my chest. I wasn’t just scared for her; I was fucking terrified for both of us.

As the night swallowed the streets, a few clueless pricks strolled by, heads down, pretending the shitshow unfolding right in front of them didn’t exist. It was a goddamn massacre, and not one of those fucking cowards had the balls to step in and stop it.

Just as I was about to lose my shit, one of those Taliban fuckers raised his gun. Time slowed the fuck down as my eyes locked onto the barrel. I knew what was coming, and there was not a thing I could do to stop it.

A deafening crack tore through the air as the bullet blasted out of the barrel, slicing through the darkness with a deadly intent. The woman’s head jerked back, a spray of crimson painting the night, and everything inside me shattered. The shock, the horror, the raw injustice of it all.

Red tensed against me, holding back her sobs, but I could feel her warm tears soaking the niqab I’d forced on her. The fabric clung to my hand as I still covered her mouth, her tears seeping through. She pressed herself closer, and all I could think was how badly I wanted to shield her from this fucked-up world, even though I knew I couldn’t.

For a fleeting moment, something hit me. Something I didn’t want to acknowledge. Vulnerability. Weakness. I wasn’t supposed to feel that shit. I was a stone-cold motherfucker, and I didn’t do emotions. The tears on her face were making me feel things I didn’t want to feel, things I couldn’t fucking afford to show. Fuck that. I wasn’t about to turn into some sentimental bitch.

Emotions like that were for wimps.

I didn’t need anyone.

I didn’t want anyone.

But I wanted Red. And I fucking hated it.

I watched in disbelief as those sick fucks left the woman’s lifeless body behind, treating her like a piece of trash. I’ve seen too much of this fucked-up world to let it break me. I might be damaged, but I was not broken. I’ve fought too hard to let this shit take me down.

But Red was a a total wreck. She was latched onto me like a barnacle, her shaking body concealed under that abaya. I could sense her fear radiating off her, and it was thick enough to touch, just like a heavy, suffocating cloud of smug. I didn’t know what the fuck I was supposed to do to comfort her. I mean, it was not like I’ve ever been great at this shit before. But I knew one thing for sure—there was no fucking way I was leaving her here to drown in this madness on her own.

She turned to me, fear written all over her face. Her emerald eyes were wide with terror as she looked at me desperately.

“I could have been that girl,” she whispered. Her hands gripped my shirt like she was trying to squeeze the life out of it.

“You could have been,” I admitted honestly.

She exhaled shakily, her breath quivering as she pressed against me. Her body shivered like she was freezing, and the fucked-up reality of it all slammed into me. My arms were around her, trying to offer some kind of comfort like I wished someone had done for me when I was a kid. I could feel her heart racing through her clothes, and part of me wanted to scream at her to get a fucking grip. But I couldn’t. Not with that look in her eyes. This shit was real for her.

“But you’re not,” I whispered back, trying to keep my voice low. “You’re here with me. Safe.”

Red blinked back her tears and shrank against me, as if I were some sort of sanctuary for her. I watched her tear-streaked face buried against my chest, and it hit me like a damn hammer blow. This time, she didn’t charge in like a fucking idiot. She knew better. She saw that these men were heartless, ruthless motherfuckers with no ounce of decency. And she stayed put.

Smart girl .

In the heat of battle, it was easy to lose sight of the bigger picture. To think that every life matters, that every soul was worth saving. But the cold, hard truth was that not everyone could be saved. The violence and bloodshed demand a certain kind of ruthlessness—a willingness to accept that survival comes first, and the rest? Fuck ‘em.

I joined the army at eighteen, fresh out of high school, not because I gave a shit about my country or wanted to spread democracy. Hell no. I wanted a paycheck, and I needed a place to throw some punches.

I was no hero. I didn’t sign up to save the world or make it a better place. Nah, it was a desperate bid to escape the living hell that was my home life. My old man was a piece of shit, plain and simple—abusive, violent, a fucking monster in human form.

I still remember the first time he laid his hands on me, that disgusting sound of his fist cracking against my jaw echoing in my skull like a gunshot. From that moment, I knew I had to get the fuck out of there before I did something I couldn’t come back from—like putting his sorry ass six feet under.

Yeah, maybe I could’ve fought back—Lord knows I had the strength—but I knew if I did, I wouldn’t be able to fucking stop. And then what? Prison?

Fuck that.

So, I had two choices—either end up behind bars for the rest of my miserable life or enlist in the army. So I signed up, not out of some sense of duty or honor, but out of sheer fucking survival instinct. And I wanted a paycheck and a way to get back at the world that had treated me so shitty.

“Come on,” I whispered, pulling Red along with me. “We have to move. Now.”

In a flash, I grabbed her, yanking her away with such force that she barely had time to react. I tried not to think about how fucking weird it felt to be so close to someone, how her soft hand fit perfectly in mine, but it was impossible to ignore the way her hips ground against my groin, making my dick hard as a fucking steel pipe. Fuck, I had to suppress the urge to thrust my hips forward.

She came willingly, her hand cold and clammy in mine but I didn’t let it bother me. She was a total pain in the ass, always bitching and whining about the tiniest shit. But she was the closest thing I had to a goddamn ally.

And for some reason, I found myself wanting to look out for her, like some motherfucking knight in shining armor. Maybe it was her vulnerability, or the fact that she had no clue how fucking hot she was when she wasn’t even trying.

We snuck through the alleyway, dodging piles of trash and trying not to step on anything that might make a noise. We kept moving, trying to put as much distance between us and those psychotic fucks. The city was a fucking nightmare, but at least we were alive.

For now.