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I stared at Alejandra, who was curled up in an old beat-up armchair. After she kissed me, she sat in the chair and watched me as I pulled out my phone and began searching through all of my intel to make sure we had a good escape planned. I was able to get a hold of a contact who could secure a plane from Panama in two days. It would be nearly a day's journey on the bike, so we would need to hole up here for a day.
By the time I finished on my phone, I looked up, and she was asleep. I was surprised she made it that long. I was a trained killer, and even I was affected by the aftershock of adrenaline pumping through my veins.
It gave me time to watch her. There was so much about her that was unique. Sure, she was the most exotically, beautiful woman I'd ever seen. She had this fantastic natural sun-kissed skin tone. Her long, dark, silky hair was plaited to the side. Her face was wiped free from makeup, and I was able to see her sharp features. Her lashes, even with her eyes closed, were noticeably long. Her cheekbones were high, and her lips were pouty.
Those fucking lips. When she pressed them to mine, I didn't know what to do. I wanted her. How could I not? She was beyond swimsuit-model beautiful, but she was Gunner's sister and had obviously endured a life of tragedy.
What had she said to me? Me being the way I was, she wanted to take something for herself. Me being the way I was? I had to let that sit. She didn't know me. Yet, she didn't flinch when she saw my scars. She didn't flinch when she saw me kill. She was a woman, who no doubt, had endured much, had witnessed many things, and yet held her head high like she was undoubtedly unbroken.
She didn't cower to me. No. Instead, the first chance she had, she took from me. If I was a lesser man, I would've given in. It took all my restraint not to grab her and haul her body flush against mine, but I had the sense that if I'd done that, I'd be no better than the men who I suspected had taken from her what she'd not so freely given them; permission.
The hum of an engine took my attention away from the sleeping beauty. Carefully, I peered outside. A farming truck filled with hay bales passed. I waited to see if there was a tap on the brakes – any sign to signal they knew we were here – there was none.
Assured that we were alone, I went outside to the overgrown garden. I found most of the produce was spoiled and in the process of reseeding itself. To the back of the property, I spotted some fruit trees and was able to procure bananas, avocados, and star fruits.
Inside, I found a knife and began the tedious process of cutting the star fruit and avocados. I put it aside, knowing Alejandra would be awake soon. I saw how close her bag was to her sleeping form. It made me wonder what she held so dear. I knew she threw jewels inside, that had to equate to a small fortune, but what other secrets did it hold? Would she ever let me in? Was I wrong to want in?
The trained soldier in me wanted to take her bag and see what was inside. My gut said I should, but I let it go, deciding that she deserved any secrets that she might carry. I had this overwhelming sense that she'd paid a high enough price.
I tore my eyes from her beautiful sleeping form again and took time searching the inside of the home. I wanted to see if there was anything that could benefit us. There wasn't much.
She slept for longer than I expected. I expected her sleep to be fitful, under extreme circumstances like this. I expected that she'd be on alert, but quite the contrary, she seemed almost peaceful.
"Ace?" She sat up, disoriented by her surroundings.
"I'm here. I have some fruit cut, if you're hungry. We leave in the morning. You should sleep as much as you can."
"How long was I out?"
I looked down at my watch. "About five hours, maybe?"
"Five hours! I never sleep that long."
"You did." I shrugged. She stood and neared me, peering at the fruit I'd cut. I watched her pluck a piece of star fruit into her mouth. The succulent juices ran down her fingers, and her tongue darted out to lick it from her fingers. I knew I should've looked away. I had a feeling she was a master seductress, but this didn't feel performed. As quickly as she ate that piece, she was eating another, and then another.
She stopped eating momentarily and caught my eye. "Oh, I'm famished. Did you have some already? Do you want some?"
I reached on the small counter where she was standing and grabbed a banana, then peeled it and ate it.
"There's plenty more. If we need more, I'll go out and pick us more."
"I can do it."
"No, Princess. Until we're out of this country, I'm keeping you hidden as much as I can. If anyone gets even the faintest wind that we're here, they could let your grandfather know, and it could be a huge problem for us. You saw how many men were after us in town."
"Okay," she said with her Colombian accent sounding thick.
She grabbed a banana, and I swore she was literally trying to kill me as she peeled it and began to eat it. The way her beautiful full lips wrapped around the fruit made my dick achingly hard. I moved away from her and sat on the couch, hoping to shield my hard-on from her.
She watched me like she was analyzing me. I wasn't a puzzle to uncross. I was just a man who couldn't watch the most beautiful fucking woman eat a goddamn banana.
"How long did you serve, Ace?"
"Eight years."
"You acquired quite the skill set during that time."
I nodded because what else could I say to that.
"Then, what? You got out, met my brother, then decided to hell with what they taught you, you'd join a biker gang? Unless your particular skill set is very valuable. Is that it? Were you attractive to them because of your aim, or your explosive aptitude?"
"You mean because I can blow shit up? Nah, Princess, it wasn't like that. I was discharged because I was held and tortured for eight months. They didn't think that a man would be able to serve his country after having been through the hell I'd been through. They thought there'd be too much traumatic stress resulting from it. So, after being held captive, they rewarded me by letting me go. Just like that, my job—what I’d lived for, was taken from me. I had a bike that I'd ride when I was stateside, so after I got out of the VA, I rode. I ended up meeting Shane and Gunner, and then it was just the three of us. We'd ride, and eventually, more brothers rode with us. It wasn't about the fact that I knew how to kill, that's just a really good fucking coincidence, seeing that if we find ourselves in a situation such as this, I can handle it."
I couldn't believe I just laid that out there. I never told anyone about my imprisonment or that I was in the VA. I had no idea what it was about her that allowed me to open up so freely, maybe the fucked-up captive in me recognized the lost captive in her as well; two messed up souls.
"You were imprisoned. My apologies for the careless way I spoke about your service."
"I wasn't imprisoned, I was tortured." There I went again with my oversharing.
"I know the feeling," she mumbled under her breath, but I'd heard her.
"You saw my scars," I mentioned the devil in the room. If someone saw them, they couldn't help their curiosity. I was sure she'd want to know.
"My scars can't be seen." There was something extremely disconnected about the way she said that. I wanted to engage her. I felt like I needed to keep her with me, and present in the moment. It felt like neither of us could ignore the enormity of our situations.
"Oh, Princess. Even though your skin is flawless, have no doubt, your scars are visible. Do you want to talk about them?"
"Do you want to talk about yours?" she countered.
"I never talk about them."
"So, you see why I don't openly speak about mine," she said, not letting me finish my sentence.
"If you'd let me finish. I was going to say that I never talk about my scars. I don't mention them. I pretty much never tell anyone about my imprisonment. It took me a year to fully tell my shrink at the VA, but with you for some reason, I'd share."
"Why would you give me that?" She took a piece of avocado and plucked it into her mouth, pretending the conversation we were having was not as heavy as it was.
"Why would you kiss me?" I countered.
"Because I could." The way she spoke was detached, yet firm.
"You're right. I'm going to give you my scars because I can, and I'm betting you won't flinch. Am I right?" She stared at me, her eyes as firm as ever. "Do you want to know?"
"Yes," she whispered like she was telling me a secret. Maybe that was true. Perhaps I'd entered confession time. With a deep breath, I decided to give it all to her.
"We were in Syria—my team and I—we were tracking a band of terrorists named Al-Nusra. I was deep-undercover. My beard had grown out, and my skin was darkened from the sun. You wouldn't have looked at me and thought I was an American.
"There was a woman. Her name was Jana." I closed my eyes briefly, seeing her face in my mind. It was the first time I'd told anyone her name. I wasn't sure why I told Alejandra. Maybe I saw some of Jana in her? "I liked Jana. We were friends. No, maybe more than friends. I don't know anymore. She was different than most women. She made her money from men, but that wasn't what made her different. What made her different was the way she listened when you talked."
"You mean, she was a whore," Alejandra accused.
"I didn't pay her if that's what you're saying. She'd find her way to my bed sometimes, though. I enjoyed talking to her, and not just because she'd tell me things. Little things. Just enough to set my team and me on a path. It was dangerous for her to see me. Then again, her life was dangerous. The men she was often with were Al-Nusra extremists.
"Have you ever heard of them?" I shook my head. She was in Colombia, how in the world would she know who a terrorist cell was? "Never mind, it doesn't matter. They're a terrorist cell, bad fucking dudes. That was the reason I'd approached Jana. I never even asked her for the information she gave me. It was just that it came so easily from her."
I continued recounting the story, and as I did so, I got lost in the memories.
"Ace, wake up." My eyes snapped open, and Jana was beside me, urgency lacing her voice. Her hair was tumbling down her back. Gone was her hijab, and in the dark light, I could see a bruise forming on her face.
"What is it?"
"They're coming for you. They know who you are."
"Jana, if they know who I am, then you're not safe. You need to come with me. Hurry." I got dressed and shot out a message letting my team know I was compromised. I grabbed two guns and holstered them on. We had no time. It was still dark outside, and the tiny apartment I was staying in would be swarming soon. Al-Nusra was known to come in large numbers.
"Let's go!" I grabbed Jana's hand, and we used the window climbing up a flight on the narrow escape. We were only able to move down one floor.
"I know a way," Jana whispered as an entire family lay asleep in a bed in the apartment we climbed into.
"Show me." I followed her, exiting the apartment and closing the door as quietly as we could to not disturb the sleeping family. We moved down a hallway to a narrow stairwell.
"We should go up," I whispered to Jana. My gut said that they'd expect us to go down.
"No. Trust me, Ace, I know a way."
I followed her. We moved down two flights of stairs, down another hallway, then down another flight of stairs.
"There's an escape ladder through this room. Come."
I kicked the door open, and we rushd in. Men surrounded us. Guns were trained on us in every direction. I was hit in the temple with the butt of a gun. I didn't pass out as they had hoped. I watched as a man praised Jana. "You did well."
I looked to Jana, blood dripped into my eye. "I'm sorry. They have my daughter. I'm sorry."
Jana had betrayed me, but she was still beautiful. I could see that they had used her. These men were the worst of the worst. I saw the pain reflected in her eyes. She might've been a whore, but she wasn't that to me. She was a woman in a war zone, doing what she could to survive.
Her eyes begged me for forgiveness.
The man she led me to, pulled out a gun, aimed it at Jana's head and shot. I couldn't get out a sound before I was hit again with the butt of a gun on my head.
I woke up, and I was drowning. Water poured over my face. Again, and again, they drowned me trying to get information out of me. I was stabbed and beaten. They shot me for kicks, but I wouldn't break. I wouldn't give them intel. They videotaped me, and it was my only hope that I'd be rescued. Someone would know I was alive. As the days grew into months, I feared I'd starve to death or worse, I would die from an infection. There'd be times when a fever would take me, and I'd think I'd see Jana begging me for forgiveness. She wasn't to blame. I'd talk to her in those fits. Tell her it was okay. She was my beautiful companion in those lonely nights. She was who kept me sane—a ghost—an apparition.
When they saved me, I was skin and bones. The doctors couldn't believe I had a pulse. I'd overheard them say, "I can't believe he's breathing." Sometimes, I wonder if I’d been in hell, and I died on that floor along with Jana.