Free Retribution by Lea Griffith

poetry. For the barest of seconds she could feel his hardness notch at the apex of her thighs. She moaned. He grimaced and then slid off her and got to his haunches.
    As if the day couldn’t get any worse, a rueful smile lit his face and a promise she refused to dwell on lit his Irish green eyes. His lips moved, but she couldn’t make out the words.
    “Huh?”
    “We’ve got to move you.”
    Now she could make out the words, and his voice sent ripples through her abdomen.
    Get your shit together, Sasha. Quickly. “Yeah, okee-dokee. Gonna move now, with you, to the truck. See? This is me getting up to go with you to the truck. And yeah, do you think you can you help me with that? Oh, and uh, could you not yell at me? Geesh, you say ‘don’t yell’ and then you go and do it—what’s with you?”
    Blackness crept along the edges of her periphery, stalking her consciousness like a panther. Just what she needed—another span of time where she was knocked out as Dray came to her rescue. How was this fair? She shuddered and wanted to call him back on top of her; have him beat the fear away.
    Dray scooped her up into his massive arms, moved to the Jeep, and settled her in his lap. Her head lolled to the side before he cupped it and pressed her against his chest. His warmth seeped into her, and she sank deeper into him. He was speaking. She could feel the rumble in his chest, the vibration of it an echo inside her. Sasha didn’t really care what he was saying anyway. She was too tired, and her head hurt too damn much. She stilled and then, blessedly, all was silent.
    A few minutes later her sister called her name.
    “Sasha. You okay?” Hal’s worried voice was barely above a whisper.
    “I’m fine, Hal. ’bout you?”
    “Pissed. I hurt a little, but listen. I want to tell you how much I love you before we start out hell-bent-for-leather with the Call of Duty men here.” Hal paused for a second.
    “Love you too, little sister.” Sasha couldn’t keep the darkness at bay any longer. She was fading, and her sister’s words came to her as if from a long distance.
    “We’ll get Lily, Sash. We’ll get her, don’t worry. But right now, we’ve got to stay safe. I love you.”
    Her head pounded. Lily. Kharima’s precious baby girl. Her reason for venturing back to hell. She had to find her. Her eyes squinted against the sun that hovered overhead. Its light narrowed to a pinpoint as her thoughts spun down, down, down. She rode the tidal wave of pain down into a black nothingness.

Chapter 8
    Dray heard the entire exchange between Sasha and her sister. Who the hell was Lily? He shook his head and sighed. He needed to focus solely on getting his team and the women out of the present danger.
    Con and Bleak burst into the small clearing where the Jeep was parked as if the hounds of hell were on their heels.
    “We gotta move,” Bleak pushed out between breaths. “Con set a huge charge to take out the side of one of those hills back there. There’s gonna be rock falling for days.” He hopped in, slammed the door, and began trying to crank the dilapidated vehicle. “If we don’t get out now, we won’t be getting out.”
    Dray winced and tightened his grip on Sasha, pushing her head farther into his neck.
    “Need to move now ,” Con reiterated Bleak’s warning as he ran up and jumped in the Jeep. “They’re coming in fast and furious. There are at least fifty of them moving up the last ridge now, and they’re trained.” Con talked as he got settled. “Dray, they’re looking for something, or someone. There were scouts ahead of them, and I think the size of the convoy took them by surprise. But they were definitely in that pass waiting.”
    Sasha moaned but settled again. She’d blacked out after their exchange a few minutes ago. Dray had watched Surrey send Sasha’s sister veiled looks as he quickly checked the women over and bandaged Sasha’s head. Hal was doing her best to act as if she wasn’t trying