Shahzada had let him know he wasn’t pleased the military base had been locked down. No one was able to get in or out, which pissed him off. He routinely passed information to someone higher up in the Taliban, which, now that he wasn’t allowed on base, wasn’t possible.
Grover quickly realized that Shahzada had snowed everyone. The US military thought he was this huge player in the Taliban. That he had way more power than he did. As it turned out, Sierra was right again—he was simply one of hundreds of men who wanted to move up in the organization. He’d perpetuated rumors about his power to cause fear in both the town, and in the Westerners who were stationed on the base.
As he was beating Grover, Shahzada bragged about all the times he passed on the wrong information during his duties as translator. Instead of telling the villagers that the military would be helping to repair sewage systems and purifying water, he told them the Americans had no intention of lifting one finger to help. That they were on their own. He’d done everything he could to sow dissent between the soldiers and the locals. Used his position to threaten those weaker than him, warning that if they worked with the soldiers, their families would pay.
All in all, Shahzada was, for all intents and purposes, a schoolyard bully. He was a big fish in a small pond, with dreams of moving up in the hierarchy of the Taliban. He was attempting to do it with smoke and mirrors.
Yes, he had kidnapped half a dozen contractors from the base, but hadn’t had the balls to take an actual soldier. Until him.
And Grover was going to be his downfall. He just had to hold on.
He sucked in a harsh breath when he moved too quickly and his ribs screamed in pain. At least a few were cracked, he guessed. His kidneys were certainly bruised. And today’s torture session had included his arms being restrained behind his back, his body hung from the ceiling by his bound hands. His shoulders were in agony, and Grover knew they’d been dislocated during the torture session. Shahzada’s men had actually done him a favor by stomping on his shoulders when they’d finally let him down. It had hurt like a son of a bitch to have them forced back into their sockets, but it was for the best in the long run.
Now he was lying on his back in his cell, in the dark. One arm was over his head through the bars, with Sierra once more holding his hand. Amazingly, feeling her palm against his went a long way toward easing his pain.
“I hate them,” she said after several silent minutes had passed. “I mean, I already hated them keeping me here with no obvious plan in place on what to do with me. But now? I want to kill them all. Slowly. Make them hurt like they’re making you hurt.”
“It’s mainly Shahzada,” Grover felt obligated to point out.
“I. Don’t. Care. They’re all in this just as deeply. They’ve kept me here against my will. They’ve beaten me when Shahzada tells them to. I don’t care if they don’t hit me as hard as they could; they still do it. They laugh when I fake cry about my hair. They enjoy seeing me beg. They’re all culpable—and I hope they die slow, horrible, painful deaths!”
Grover couldn’t hold back the smile that crossed his face. It was inappropriate as hell, but he was so relieved Shahzada and his followers hadn’t completely doused her fire, he didn’t care. “They will,” he told her.
He heard her huff out a breath in agitation.
“What’s the first meal you want when you get home?” he asked, trying to get her mind off the assholes holding them captive.
“Seriously?”
“Sure, why not?”
“Because I’ve had nothing but tasteless oatmeal-type shit for months,” she complained.
Grover realized that his question had been pretty tactless. “Sorry. Forget I asked.”
“I never used to think much about food. I mean, I tried to watch what I ate because with my height, even five pounds would make me look much larger. But I didn’t really have a favorite food or anything. Now that I haven’t had anything good in months…I realize how much I miss tasting anything other than the crap they’ve given me.”
“There’s a pizza place north of Austin that has my favorite pizza ever,” Grover said. “DeSano Pizzeria Napoletana. The name is super fancy, and I swear I’ve never tasted anything better. You’d think everything was made in the heart of Italy instead of Texas.”
“McDonald’s French fries,” Sierra said. “The salt on my fingers used to annoy me, but even the thought of salt right now makes my mouth water.”
“You could have anything in the world and you choose fast food French fries?” Grover teased.
“Hey, don’t judge,” Sierra complained.
“Sorry,” Grover told her. “What else?”
“Fresh vegetables. A tomato straight from the vine. A huge salad with chopped veggies and cheese. And slathered in ranch dressing.”
“Sounds good. What else?”
“A cream-filled doughnut.”
Grover chuckled and ignored the flash of pain from his ribs. “You have a sweet tooth, huh?” he asked.
“Yup,” Sierra said unapologetically. “Pretty much just about anything would sound amazing right now though. I…I’ve lost a lot of weight.”
He hated the shame he heard in her voice. “You’ll gain it back. I’ll help you.”
Her hand tightened on his for a moment before she relaxed again.
He kept talking. “On our first date, I’ll get us a pizza from DeSano Pizzeria Napoletana. I’ll make you a huge salad with fresh veggies I’ll pick up from a farmers market. Cucumbers, tomatoes, peppers, cheese…you name it, I’ll put it in there. We’ll go up to the top of the barn that was recently completed on my property. You can see for miles up there. We’ll eat until we’re stuffed, then we’ll let it settle while we talk, and then eat some more. We’ll be so full, we won’t be able to climb down to leave so we’ll have to sleep up there.”
Sierra chuckled. “So now our first date has turned into a sleepover?”
“Sure. Why not? We’ve already slept together here, so why not when we get home too?”
There was a moment of silence before Grover heard the most beautiful sound ever. Sierra giggling.
“You’re assuming I want to come to Texas to visit you,” Sierra said when she had herself under control.
“I am,” Grover agreed.
Another minute or so of silence before she spoke again. “You’re not like any man I’ve ever met. You’re bossy and too sure of yourself. You think you’ll get your way just because you want something.”
When she didn’t say anything else, Grover asked, “And?”
“And what?”
“I heard a but in there somewhere.”
“Yeah. But…for some reason I can’t get mad at you for it.”
“I’m an upfront kind of guy,” Grover told her seriously, hating that he couldn’t look into her eyes as he spoke. He squeezed her hand tighter. “When I saw you a year ago, I was instantly attracted. You were like this ray of sunshine in an otherwise pretty dark world. When I didn’t hear from you, I admit…I was both pissed and disappointed. But even as month after month passed, and I still didn’t hear from you, I couldn’t get you out of my mind. When I found out that you had written? That was it. I wasn’t going to let some asshole terrorist steal my chance to get to know you.”