Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23113 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 116(@200wpm)___ 92(@250wpm)___ 77(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23113 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 116(@200wpm)___ 92(@250wpm)___ 77(@300wpm)
“Is she okay?” I bark.
A medic nods as he checks her vitals.
“She’s fine. Stunned, but fine.”
“What about the baby?”
The medic doesn’t even look up, gently running his fingers over her bulging tummy.
“Seems fine. Just stay calm, ma’am. We’ve got you now.”
Thank fuck. But then, Misty turns to look at me and my heart breaks.
“Jordan,” she manages in a whisper. “I knew you’d save me. Thank you for coming.”
The alpha male in me takes over. Tenderly, I sit by her before lifting her sweet form into my lap.
“You’re safe now, sweetheart. You’re with me, and I’ll never let you out of my sights again. No one can hurt you now.” Gently, I bend down to kiss the top of her head as her eyes flutter closed. Then, I lean back against the wall of the helicopter as exhaustion takes over. Still, my mind is jubilant because I promised I would never let her out of my sight again, and I intend to keep that promise.
13
Misty
I’m back in the United States with Jordan at an undisclosed location. The CIA has provided us temporary safe housing until we can figure this mess out. Nobody knows I’ve returned, and that’s how I want it.
After all, what’s happened is basically the stuff of spy novels. I was kidnapped by my own parents, whom I’ve since learned are international arms dealers. Mark and Susan felt my pregnancy by an American soldier would jeopardize their business, and as a result, they shipped me overseas. But then, their plans went awry and I was kidnapped by the Russian mob to have my baby in some remote area of Azerbaijan. Fortunately, all of that is in the past because Jordan saved me, and I’m so grateful to the man I love.
I’m not sure what happens next, to be honest. I’m told that Jordan and I will eventually be placed in witness protection, and that it’ll be necessary to assume new identities and a new life even. The thought scares me, but as long as I have my man, I know I can do it.
Now, we’re living in a small cabin in a heavily wooded area, far from any civilization. The peace and quiet of the forest is much needed, and I’m grateful for the accommodations. Between the remote location and having a soldier by my side, I feel safe here, which is something I never thought I’d experience again.
This morning, I’m curled up in Jordan’s arms on the couch enjoying a much-deserved cup of tea. I don’t want to re-live the past, and yet what happened was so shocking that I have to talk about it with someone, and my boyfriend is the perfect person.
I recount my experience: the gruesome guards, the long nights, and the back breaking chores. But what I want to share with him most are the tales of the women I met at the home for unwed mothers. We weren’t supposed to talk or support each other. I wasn’t even allowed to know their real names, but I learned their secret stories nonetheless.
I tell him about the woman who was promised to a tribal elder, but instead was tricked into giving up her body. I tell him about the woman whose spouse passed on shortly after they conceived, and how the guards tormented her, accusing her of cheating on her dead husband. I tell him that most of the women weren’t even women; they were young girls, innocent and frightened. I can’t wrap my mind around how lucky I am to be out of there, and to know beyond a doubt that I’ll get to keep my child.
“I feel guilty, Jordan. I’m relieved to be gone from that place, but I keep thinking: what makes me more deserving than the hundreds of other women imprisoned there? How can I move forward with my life knowing they’re still trapped there?”
He looks at me fiercely.
“It’s not your fault, Misty. And I want you to know that the American government is working on it. They know the location of that hellhole now, and are confronting the Azerbaijani government about the plight of those women. It’s a human rights violation, and you made a huge difference with your bravery.”
I swallow heavily, tears rising to my eyes.
“I wasn’t the brave one, you were. Still, it’s terrible,” I say in a hoarse voice. “I wish I could do something to help.”
He takes my hand.
“You can. After we get settled with our new identities, let’s do some research together. Maybe we can start a non-profit, or some kind of group to help Azerbaijani unwed mothers. I don’t know that we’ll be able to assist those women in particular, but we’ll be able to do something.”
I swallow hard around the lump in my throat, squeezing his hand.
“Thank you, my love. I don’t know what I’d do without you. You’re literally a hero who swung in on a rope ladder before saving my life.”