by Lisa Harris
“She’d be proud of what you’re doing here.”
“I hope so. And while I know it sounds horrible, I’m thankful she didn’t have to go through all of this. Trent might have been her stepson, but she loved him like her own, and if she’d known what he was involved in, it would have broken her heart.”
“We’re almost there,” Issa said, breaking into their conversation.
Colton looked outside as they passed a blue cargo container with Office of Tourism written on the side. He drew in a deep breath. He was determined to keep Lexi safe at any cost. They’d make it across the border, then head to the embassy on their way out of the country, where all of this would be behind them. He’d make sure she got to her friend’s wedding, and then he’d find a way to see her again.
Or at least that’s what he was going to keep praying would happen.
Issa pulled into a parking spot in front of a sand-colored building. There was a police car next to them. Colton looked behind them. There was no sign of the other vehicle that had followed them, which hopefully meant one less thing to worry about.
“We’ll let you do all the talking, Issa,” Colton said, as they exited the vehicle. “You up to this, Bret?”
He glanced at his brother-in-law who had been quiet for most of the trip. With a few good meals and some rest, he was going to be back to normal. He just needed to get Bret home. Needed to get all of them home.
“A few hours at the border in the sweltering sun?” Bret shot Colton a smile. “I’ve had worse days.”
He couldn’t help but smile back. They’d all had worse days recently. Which meant this was going to be a piece of cake. At least he hoped so.
An hour later, Colton decided that crossing into Morocco was going to be anything but simple. The sun pounded down on them relentlessly. He was worried about the constant jostling of people beside them begging for money or trying to sell cigarettes and cold drinks. He kept close to Lexi’s side while Issa explained over and over to the authorities what had happened.
Maybe they should have tried to smuggle her across. Or maybe that would have made things worse. There was no way to know. She was strong, he knew that, but that didn’t mean that the ongoing stress of the past few days wasn’t affecting her. Because he knew it was getting to him.
He glanced behind them in the line. There was still no sign of Salif’s men, but they were out there. Determined to get the two million dollars they’d lost as well as find Trent. And it wouldn’t be hard to deduce where they were going. They needed to make it to the embassy and as far out of Salif’s scope of influence as soon as possible.
But was Morocco going to be far enough?
He tried to dismiss the questions. All they needed to do right now was get into Morocco. From there on, they should be safe.
“They’re taking too long,” Lexi said, pacing beside him while Issa continued trying to convince the border officials to allow her to leave.
“They always take too long,” he said. “It’s part of the process.”
“Maybe. And I know I shouldn’t feel so much panic, but on the other hand I have been kidnapped—twice—over the past couple days, threatened and shot at…” She let out a huff of air. “I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for.” He reached into his pocket for some change, then haggled with a man for four Cokes. “Though this might help.”
She took the drink, then shot him a smile, before taking a sip. “You’re right. I don’t think I realized how thirsty I was.”
He handed one to Bret, then waited a couple minutes until Issa joined them to give him his drink.
“Anything?” Lexi asked.
“I’m trying to convince them to get someone from your government involved. The border patrol agent, Nuru, told me to wait a few more minutes. There’s actually a man here now who works for the American Embassy. Nuru’s trying to track him down before he crosses into Morocco. If he’s right—”
“They’ll let me cross?” Lexi asked.
“That’s what he implied.”
For the first time all afternoon Colton saw hope in Lexi’s eyes.
We just need a way across, God. And a way to put this nightmare behind us.
He stared past the line of cars toward the Moroccan border. A couple miles was all that stood between them and freedom. A couple miles and he could get Lexi through the disputed Western Sahara territory and on to Rabat, where she could catch a flight to Ireland and be done with this.
As Colton finished the last of his cold drink, a large African man wearing a dark gray uniform and accompanied by a second man approached them.
“I’ve been speaking with a colleague about your problem and might have found a solution,” the man said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I would like to introduce you to Karim Fadel. He works for the American Embassy and has agreed to take you to the capital.”
Issa quickly introduced Colton, Bret and Lexi to the two men.
“I’m returning from a business trip to Mauritania,” Karim said with a thick English accent. “The Mauritanian official told of what you have been through. I’d be happy to help.”
Colton hesitated briefly, before shaking the man’s hand. It almost seemed too easy. Someone with the right credentials happened to be crossing at the same time they were and suddenly they are allowed to cross? He pushed back the thought and reached out and shook the man’s hand. Why was he complaining? If it got the three of them across the border safely, that was all that mattered at the moment.
“Thank you. We appreciate your help tremendously,” he said.
“It’s the least I can do after what the three of you have experienced. The officials have told me they are going to allow you to leave Mauritania,” Karim said, “And with my connections to the US Embassy, I don’t expect any problems on the other side of the border once I explain the situation.”
“Issa?” Colton said, before following the man to his car. “Are you coming with us?”
Issa’s expression softened. “I’m sorry, but I won’t be crossing into Morocco with you. I believe you are in good hands, and it will be better if I return home to my family.”
“Are you sure?” Colton didn’t like the idea of simply leaving Issa behind, but he wasn’t sure there were any other options.
“What if they give you trouble back home?” Lexi added.
“I’ll be okay,” Issa assured them.
Colton prayed his friend was right as he gave him money for fuel and food for the return trip. “We owe you our lives, Issa.”
“Then I will expect another visit to my home—from all three of you—though the next time I will expect to be under better circumstances.”
Colton embraced the man. “Thank you, Issa. And please…be careful.”
A minute later, the three of them were headed with Karim toward a silver Mercedes.
“I told you it was going to be okay,” Colton said, nudging Lexi with his elbow.
“I guess I should listen to you more often.”
“Yes, you should,” he teased.
But despite his words, Colton still couldn’t shake the sense of uneasiness. He looked back one more time as Issa slipped into his vehicle and drove away.
THIRTEEN
Forget the spa treatment Micah had promised her in Ireland. Standing in a bathroom, under a spray of hot water, in a traditional riad somewhere in the middle of a Moroccan neighborhood near the Atlantic Ocean, was the best shower Lexi could ever remember taking.
She finished washing her hair, thankful for their host’s generosity in letting them stay the night. But as good as she felt physically, even the hot water couldn’t wash away the fear still embedded in her pores.
A few minutes later, she was dressed in a simple tunic-styled dress Karim had found for her. She let the colorful fabric with its bright blues and oranges fall to the middle of her calves. It might not be something she’d typically wear, but it fit far better than the outfit Colton had f
ound for her after the plane wreck. And carried fewer memories than the bloodstained pants she’d been wearing when the Malian army had shot the man standing next to her.
Would she ever forget everything that had happened to her?
Her hands shook as she picked up the glass of water she’d left on the counter. She might have lost her appetite, but she couldn’t seem to get enough to drink. It was as if the heat of the Sahara had soaked up all the moisture in her body. She took a big gulp and moved to set it back down, but in the process the glass slipped from her shaky fingers and dropped onto the floor.
The cup shattered against the hard tile, echoing throughout the room like a gunshot. She was there again. Heart racing. Adrenaline flooding through her. Running for her life while the Malian government exchanged fire with her captors. Reliving the explosion of the surface-to-air missile that brought down the plane. Feeling the overwhelming panic as Salif’s men shot at their vehicle in the desert.
She drew in a deep breath, pressed her back against the cool wall, then looked down at the floor. They could have killed her at any moment. One bullet could have snuffed out the life of anyone of them.
But this wasn’t a bullet threatening to take her life. It was just a broken, replaceable glass. Not Salif’s men or another car chasing after them across the desert.
She was safe. Far away from her captor and his men. Far away from the man who’d snatched her in hopes of finding her brother and in the process had changed forever how she looked at life.
Why, then, even though she was hundreds of miles from Salif, did she still not feel safe? She wasn’t sure she ever would.
She glanced into the mirror, her heart still pounding. Another wave of fear swept through her, and she searched to find the source. She was alone for the first time since Colton had rescued her. But had the fear she felt really gotten that bad? So bad she couldn’t even walk into a restroom by herself without panicking?
She studied her reflection. There were deep shadows beneath her eyes from the stress of the past few days. Her face seemed paler than normal. Her brain felt fuzzy to the point where she couldn’t totally process everything that had happened. Maybe all of this was simply normal. Like a soldier coming back from war who’d seen things he’d only heard talked about.
But she was no soldier.
She pulled her wet hair into a high ponytail secured it with a band, then picked up the broken pieces of the glass off the floor before dumping them into a small metal trash can.
Colton had trained in the military and knew how to handle situations like this. She hadn’t. She was trained to help people. To upgrade water systems so people could have clean water. Not to run for her life across the desert. And she had no idea how to deal with the aftermath of what had happened the past few days.
But maybe the truth was that the trauma was simply something she was going to have to live with. It was as if that part of her that had been violated, and taken against her will, had in turn managed to shatter the trust she’d always naturally felt toward others. Her mother had always called her a glass half-full kind of girl. She’d looked at the bright side of things—always expecting things to eventually turn out okay. Even after living in Mali these past few months and looking into the eyes of mothers desperate for their children’s well-being, she’d still seen the hope for something better.
But during this experience—having to deal with the reality she’d almost died along with those around her—she’d lost a part of herself.
I don’t know how to deal with how I feel, God. I have no idea how to go on from here.
No idea how to deal with the fear. The mistrust. The constant looking over her shoulder in terror that they were going to be there. She couldn’t imagine feeling safe again, but she also didn’t want to live in fear. She needed to get to Rabat, find her brother and seek closure. And then somehow she was going to have to figure out a way to put this behind her.
She hung up her towel on the rack behind the door, pushing to the back of her mind the continual flashbacks that refused to stop replaying. Trying to picture instead, those people who were thinking and praying for her right now. Her family. Micah. Colton…
Colton. He’d become her safety net. Her hero. And as crazy at it seemed, the thought of leaving Morocco without him terrified her. Almost as much as being alone. Not only had he been through most of what she’d experienced, but he’d managed to keep her safe each step of the way. And through the trauma, they’d bonded in a way she couldn’t imagine possible. And now she couldn’t envision saying goodbye.
But none of this—whatever this was—could last.
In the next day or two, they would go their separate ways. She was going to be on a plane to Ireland. She’d make it to Micah’s wedding, and then on to see her family. He’d head to the East Coast. She’d eventually head to the West Coast.
And even she did decide to stay, chances were their paths wouldn’t cross again for any significant period of time. Which was why there simply wasn’t a place for him in her future. She knew that. But if that were true, then why did a part of her long for the chance to explore what she felt between them.
The muscles in her shoulders tensed. No. She might feel an unexpected connection to him. And even a need to be with him after everything that had happened. He’d become her security. But there could be no future for them. She’d learned her lesson with Evan. And she’d promised herself to never jump into another long-distance relationship. It simply didn’t work.
Pushing aside her scattered thoughts for the moment, she stepped out into the hall and headed toward the roof, where Karim said they would be waiting for her with mint tea and cakes.
The outside of the house stood tall and had been made of a reddish stucco. Inside, there were bright colored tiles along the walls where most of the doors led to an interior courtyard. Any other time, she would have loved to explore the structure. But at the moment all she could think about was how vulnerable she felt. Every door had become a possible entrance for one of Salif’s men. Every shadow a possible enemy.
She breached the stairs, then stopped at the top step. A dozen lanterns spread their yellow lights across the open-air rooftop revealing a cloth-covered rectangular table surrounded by wooden chairs and a number of couches adorned with colorful throw pillows. Bret sat at the table, looking relaxed as he drank a cup of tea next to a pile of small cakes. Colton stood with his back toward her, overlooking the view of the neighborhood and giving her a moment to compose herself. Because she didn’t know how to ignore how she felt. Seeing him lessened the fear that continued to plague her. And caused her heart to race.
She greeted Bret, glad to see the color back in his cheeks, then walked over to where Colton stood along the edge of the terrace.
“Hey.”
“Hey…” His smile broadened as he looked down at her. “How do you feel?”
“Better. I can’t remember when a hot shower felt so good.”
“I feel the same way.”
Her heart skipped another beat as she looked up at him. There was no way to ignore the attraction she felt. The yellow light of the lanterns caught his clean shaven face and tall, muscular stature.
She felt herself relaxing, as if just being next to him could thwart anything evil that tried to come near her. Shifting her gaze, she looked out beyond the terrace dozens of windy roads lit up by streetlamps, while dogs barked and lively music played from someone’s house.
“That’s the Atlantic in the distance,” Colton said, pointing into the darkness. “We’re almost home.”
Almost.
“It’s a little different from the quiet of the desert,” she said.
“Very.”
“And Bret?” She breathed in the salty air from the sea mingling with the scent of roasting meat. “He’s looking better, as well.”
“He just told me he’s feeling stronger. I think it’s the fact that he’ll be home soon.”
She glanced up at Colton. His hair was
still damp from the shower, and he’d changed into a pair of brown pants and a collared shirt. It was almost as if the last few days hadn’t happened, and they were simply meeting for dinner at someone’s home in the middle of Morocco.
“You look beautiful,” he said, keeping his voice low enough that only she could hear him.
She felt a blush creep across her cheeks and wished he’d take back the compliment. He wasn’t helping. She needed to put distance between them, not add to the unwanted feelings stirring within her.
“Our host has been generous,” Lexi said, changing the subject. “Though I can’t help but wish we’d been able to make it to the capital in one day.”
“I know, but by tomorrow night we should be there.”
“Did Karim mention trying to call our families again in the meantime?” she asked.
“I asked him just a few minutes ago when he was up here. He said the grid’s still out.”
Lexi swallowed her disappointment. She needed to call her stepfather and Micah and let them know where she was. To let them know she was okay and that this was finally over. “Seems strange that we were able to make a call in the middle of the Sahara and yet here in the city, the phones aren’t working. How long does the system usually stay down?”
“Apparently not long. He said by morning everything should be back up again.”
“I hope so.” Lexi swallowed the frustration. But she could wait a few more hours. Because it wouldn’t be long until they reached the capital and all of this was over.
*
Colton caught the hint of irritation in Lexi’s voice. He couldn’t blame her. He was just as anxious to get home. And at the least to make some phone calls and let his family know he was okay. Becca needed to know as well that this was finally over and she was safe to go home.
But as thankful as he was that the last couple days were over, there was one thing he wasn’t looking forward to about going home. And that was the idea of saying goodbye to Lexi. He studied her profile, wanting to know how she was really doing, but the lanterns casting shadows across the rooftop terrace masked her expression. But he didn’t have to see her face clearly to know she had to be dealing with a barrage of emotions.