Free Her Next Breath (Uncharted SEALs Book 2) by Delilah Devlin Page A

case of an attack. But now they had a hole in their defenses to the north. “Deke, Mac, Jave, we have a breach in the north side of camp.”
    “Already there,” Deke said, his voice low. “Don’t see anything yet.”
    “Fence is cut,” came Mac’s voice. “Tracks from maybe three men.”
    Jave didn’t respond.
    The north side fence faced encroaching jungle. A great place to infiltrate once the guards were taken out. Jackson kept on task, skirting buildings with his weapon raised, ready to fire if anyone looked out of place.
    As he drew closer to the last buildings near the north fence, he tightened his jaw and went into fight mode. Every sense on alert. He couldn’t let himself think about Suri. She probably had no clue, and when gunfire erupted she’d be scared, but the only way to keep her safe was do his job.
    The wind whipped up, lifting the tin roof of the hut and slapping it back down. The sound was like the crack of a rifle. Another clap made her jump, and she edged off the bed. She’d sit with the guard. Maybe he was feeling as edgy as she was and could use the company. But she went to the bathroom first, relieving herself then washing her hands, looking at her face in the mirror and wondering who that woman was. Since when did Suri McAnnally hang out with ex-SEALs in the middle of a Mexican jungle? Her routine life in Austin felt very far away.
    A sound, like scuffing feet sounded from the bedroom, and she frowned, staying silent. Who was there? Did the guard think she’d tried climbing out the window again and come to check on her. She reached for the doorknob, but her hand froze at the loud pops she heard. Two. Just outside her door. Something heavy thudded to the floor.
    She wished there was a lock on the bathroom door. Holding the knob wouldn’t stop whoever it was from gaining entrance. She gazed at the tub and quietly walked over to it, stepping inside and easing the moldy white curtain closed before she lay down to hide herself.
    The door burst open. A shady figure stepped inside—and reached for the curtain.
    Please be Jackson. Please be Jackson. But she recognized the face leering down at her and her muscles tightened. Diego Guzman had come to seek his revenge.
    His cold eyes stared down, and he raised a pistol and aimed it at her.
    Suri wasn’t about to die like this. Not without a fight. But she needed something to keep him from pulling the trigger. “Wait! I know where Alejandro is.”
    “So do I,” he bit out.
    “But you won’t get near him. Not without a hostage.”
    Guzman’s gaze raked her body. “You that SEAL’s whore now?”
    He knew about Jackson? Blood pounded in her ears. That was much more specific than simply assuming she’d received good treatment because she didn’t know a thing about his operation.
    The sound of gunfire erupting in the distance told her Guzman had many more men with him.
    “You can use me as a shield. You know if they see you in the open, they’ll shoot you dead.”
    His cold gaze narrowed. “Get up.”
    Moving slowly so she didn’t excite him, she stood.
    Guzman gripped her arm hard and pulled her over the edge of the tub. Then he turned her and put an arm around her chest and his pistol against the side of her head. “We go together. You make one move, you even trip, I’ll blow off your head.”
    His clipped, accented voice was dead even. His body wasn’t especially tense despite the sounds of a full-on battle going on around the camp. He was a true sociopath. And he believed he was in complete control, which made her wonder just how many men he’d brought.
    “Move.”
    She hated that he used that word. But she didn’t have time to think about Jackson. She walked forward, out the bathroom door, eyeing the prone body of the guard who’d been keeping watch, and then through the tiny living area to the front door. There, she held her breath before opening the door. The sounds were farther away now and at the opposite side of the