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Chapter Fifteen
Later that afternoon, Max got some shut-eye and had just awoken and was doing push-ups alongside the bed when Donnie poked his head in. “Yo, Batman, as nice as it is to ogle your ripped, bare-naked chest before dinner, I have some news.”
Max gave Donnie a rude sign as he bounced up and grabbed a shirt. “A man takes one small nap in twenty-four hours and this is what he gets? What do you have?”
“Omar Salib,” Donnie answered with a grin.
“What about him?”
“He’s landing in Johannesburg early tomorrow morning. He has a connecting flight to Mogadishu later in the afternoon.”
“Great. What’s his ETA?”
“0600 hours.”
“Excellent. Let’s roll out the welcoming mat.”
***
This was her cleaning day. Thanks to a combination of anxiety and claustrophobia, Abby took spring cleaning to the next level, deciding to scrub and organize all the kitchen cabinets at eight in the morning. Abby stacked the last of the pans and hefted them
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“I left out some details of the physical damage done to me that night and the challenges I’d face.” He’d thought long and hard about that; it was a miracle that she could function at all, yet here she was holding down a job and trying to live a healthy life. Brave. At least that’s what he’d thought until she snuck a phone call on a damn burner… “The clinic in Dubai took evidence photos, did a rape kit, started me on antivirals and gave me the morning-after pill.” Max’s stomach always churned with anger when he saw what men on this earth were capable of. He’d come across many atrocities on women during his SF days. Villages raped and pillaged, women mutilated and left to die. They’d rescued girls along the way, but the dead look in their eyes would haunt Max for the rest of his days. She forged on in a robotic voice. “A security officer stayed by my side the whole time. She held my hand and told me everything would be okay. Her name was Noleen; she was
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Max was halfway back to their unit when Abby’s earsplitting scream pierced the air. What. The. Fuck. Buzzing in his head blocked all else as he threw himself at her front gate, ripping out his gun and racing up the porch steps. If Muller had laid a fucking finger on her… The sliding door sat open.“Max! Dial it back! Dial it back, dude! She’s okay.” Slater’s voice in the earpiece cut through the panic.At the last second, Max concealed the weapon, barging into the room. Abby scooted back towards the opposite couch. The look of terror made him want to rip the laughing bastard’s face off. Had Muller touched her?Her eyes were glued to an object on the tiled floor. All Max saw was a napkin. Something large crawled out of it—a half-dead cricket. Abby looked at it like it was Satan. It half limped towards her, and she shrieked in fear. Muller guffawed even louder.Max scooped up the offending insect and
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A slight dimple graced her right cheek. Its appearance was a rare occurrence. Max itched to know what would lighten that load. He’d find out, technically gathering more intel—Max couldn’t protect Abby without knowing everything there was to know about her. Nothing personal. Keep telling yourself that, Andersen, just keep repeating that mantra. He allowed Abby to use a burner phone to text Kris. The game ranger was back in town and resting up for the rest of the day, so they agreed to meet up the following afternoon at a coffee shop. Slater could scope out the location beforehand. Handing the phone back, Abby said, “I need to weed the yard. Want to help?” “I don’t know much about plants. I might kill the things by looking at them, but if you trust me with your bug-infested babies, then why not.” Abby snorted. “Bug-infested. What kind of operation do you think I run here?” Her eyes sparkled with humor. “The organic kind. I see
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La Coraggio was packed, Max and Johnny sandwiched Abby on the bench. Max pulled a dollar bill out of his wallet and folded it into a sword shape as Lizzy chattered away on the other side of him. Abby had initially sensed his impatience with her bubbly friend when they’d first met, but Max now saw the girl beneath. Intelligent, kind and courageous. His mouth turned up as Lizzy made a silly joke, but Abby was thoroughly absorbed in his sexy hands folding with confident precision. His long fingers so capable. Capable enough to take away life or to protect it. Well-trained hands decorated with a few rough calluses and light scars. Feeling them run down her back or stroke her arm always resulted in goose bumps. Max stroked her calf with his foot; who knew that the game of footsy could be so damn sexy? The small paper dagger was waved in front of Lizzy, who snatched it up. He needed to smile more often. He had the sexiest smile, and combined with those piercing eyes, the r
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