Page 8 of Traitorous Lies (Prey Security: Charlie Team #6)

“Then bring her out with you,” the other man commanded.

Somehow, she couldn’t imagine Jax being someone who enjoyed following commands. Then again, he said he’d had some training, so maybe he’d served in the military or something before doing … whatever it was he did now.

Which she had no clue about because she’d just agreed to get in a car with him and be taken away from a safe place filled with people. A decision she absolutely regretted, even though she didn't place the blame for their current predicament on Jax’s shoulders.

“I would, but I'm not feeling that great either. You guys did run us off the road after all,” Jax added.

“And if you'd died in the crash like you were supposed to, we wouldn't all be out here in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night,” the man huffed back, clearly not amused about the situation .

Step in line .

If anyone had the right to be unhappy about all of this, it was her and Jax, not these men who wanted them dead.

Only if they wanted them both dead, how did they expect to get paid a ransom?

Was it possible this had nothing to do with someone trying to extort money from her family?

That was the conclusion she’d come to because it seemed like the most logical given her history. But maybe she was wrong. Maybe this was something else, although she couldn’t fathom what.

“I'm serious, I think I broke some ribs, you’re going to have to get her yourself. But be gentle,” Jax growled.

“Fine,” the man said with another irritated huff, and the van moved a little as she assumed he was climbing into the back of it.

Fighting against her worry that Jax wasn't lying about the broken ribs and that he might be more seriously injured than he’d let on while they’d been sitting in the back of this van for what felt like hours, Monique forced her limbs to be still and heavy.

Since that was absolutely how she felt, and she’d love nothing more than to stay nice and still and possibly be able to get some much-needed rest, it was easy to accomplish even with the terror she felt breathing inside her.

Someone knelt beside her, and she felt hands touch her body.

Not warm, strong hands like Jax’s, these ones were cold, and much too rough as they shifted her, ready to pick her up.

But they never did.

There were the sounds of movement, then a small snapping sound, before something went thud.

Her breathing increased.

Was it Jax who had eliminated a threat, or had the man sensed they were up to something and decided to just kill them and get it over with?

“Hey, princess, you did amazing. Perfect,” Jax whispered, and his fingers brushed lightly across her temple.

“You're alive?” Blinking open her eyes, she saw him crouched beside her, a tight smile on his handsome face.

“Course I am.”

“Your ribs … were you lying? Or are you hurt?” She wasn't sure why it mattered, given there were still five armed men out there so mewhere, assuming the sixth was now dead in here with them. But it did matter. The thought of him hurting made her feel sick.

“Lying. I'm sore and banged up, but nothing broken,” he assured her, and she sensed he was telling her the truth. “Now I need you to do something else for me, okay?”

When she gave a small nod, he palmed her cheek, his fingers stroking along her cheekbone in a gentle caress that helped slow both her breathing and her racing heart.

“I want you to stay in here. You're going to go into the back corner and stay there no matter what. I’m going to take the gun and kill the rest of them. There are only five, and I like those odds. But if the worst happens and I don’t survive, I need you to make sure you tell those men over and over again who your father is and how he wouldn't want you harmed. That he’ll pay anything to get you back alive and in one piece. Can you do that for me?”

Reaching out blindly, Monique grabbed Jax’s hands and clutched them to her chest. “I don’t want you to die.”

“Don’t want to die either, princess, but you're my priority.”

She’d never been anyone’s priority. Not ever. So why now? And why with him?

“Why?” she whispered the plea, knowing they didn't really have time for him to answer.

“I don’t know … I just … you're special,” he explained, for a second sounding flustered before he pulled his armor back on. “Now, stay here. Don’t move. Don’t make a sound.”

Tugging his hands free from her grip, he went to move away but then paused.

Turning back to look at her, he had an expression on his face she couldn’t read, but when he leaned in and brushed his lips across hers in the quickest yet most emotionally satisfying kiss of her life, she could absolutely read his desire, his attraction to her, and his regret that they both might die out there.

Then he was moving to the edge of the van, and she was shuffling backward into the corner like he’d told her.

“Need some help, girl’s unconscious and guy just passed out,” he called out in a voice she would have sworn belonged to the man lying dead beside her if she couldn’t see Jax’s lips moving .

A moment later, she saw two figures moving outside.

Before they could see it was Jax and not their friend talking, he’d fired two shots, dropping both men.

Then he was gone.

Disappeared from view.

The world was suddenly filled with nothing but the sounds of bullets firing.

There were still three other men out there, and they were all united against Jax.

Part of her wanted to disobey his orders, climb out of the van, grab one of the weapons from the dead men, and help somehow.

But what help would she actually be? She’d never even touched a gun before, let alone used one to kill a person.

When the van suddenly shuddered, and a bullet whizzed through the metal sides, she whimpered and pressed a hand to her mouth to hold in the scream that so desperately wanted to escape.

They were both going to die.

Her and Jax.

And she still couldn’t help but believe that this was her fault even with all the doubts swirling inside her mind.

Suddenly, everything went quiet.

Deadly quiet.

Another whimper tumbled from her lips, and Monique scrunched up her eyes, not wanting to see who was going to come for her.

Would it be Jax or the men who had kidnapped them?

The slight rock of the van told her someone was climbing into it, then she could feel them approaching.

“Open your eyes, princess.”

That was Jax’s voice, but what if it was one of the kidnappers pretending like Jax himself had done just a few moments ago?

Fingers caressed her cheek, the same way they’d done before Jax went on his killing spree, and she knew their touch. There was no way someone could fake how it made her feel.

Whimpering again, she grabbed his hand and held onto it tightly. “Are they dead?”

“All dead.”

“So we’re … we’re going to be okay? We can go home now?” She ha rdly dared to hope that might be true. That all they had to do was drive back to the road and then go home.

“Actually, princess, the van got shot up, it’s not drivable.”

Eyes snapping open, she met Jax’s worried gaze. Before pressing him on what he’d just said, her eyes roamed his body searching for the telltale sign of blood that would indicate a wound.

There was none.

“If we can't drive the van, how will we get home?” she asked, hating the wobble in her voice and the tears that blurred her vision, but she was too tired and in too much pain to hide them.

“We’ll walk.” Jax said it like it was the easiest thing in the world.

But it wasn't.

It was November, and they were deep in the French woods, in one of the largest forests in Europe.

She was dressed in a ball gown and heels.

Even with Jax’s tux jacket on she was going to freeze.

They both would. He might be dressed slightly better in his suit pants, shirt, and lace-up shoes, but it was still too cold.

They also had no food, no water, and no shelter.

As far as she could see, they were in no better position than they’d been ten minutes ago, now their deaths were just more likely to be slow rather than quick.