Free Hush by Cherry Adair

face. She felt around in one of the pockets on the outside of her pants, checked on the position of the guards—Zak met her eyes as she glanced behind her, and shifted subtly to block their view of her—and surreptitiously pulled out a flat packet of moist towelettes.
    â€œThanks,” she murmured. Plucking one wipe out of the package, she carefully restuck the seal and shoved it back into the hidden pocket, her mind returning once more to her friends as she wiped her face and throat. They would blame themselves, she knew. They’d go to the police first. Then they’d freak. Natasha’s father had served with Acadia’s dad at Fort Riley. When Natasha realized there was no trace of her friend, she’d call in the cavalry. Literally.
    â€œPerhaps they’ll think you went off with some local guy,” Zak offered after too long a silence.
    Acadia choked back a laugh. “Not in a trillion years.” It wouldn’t even cross their minds that she might be with some handsome Latin American man having a wild adventure. Going off with strange men wasn’t who Acadia Alyssa Gray was . She was the leave-the-kids-with-Acadia-on-Friday-night kind of friend. She was predictable, reliable, and, she hated to admit, boring.
    â€œNot that far from the truth,” he corrected, which annoyed the hell out of her.
    â€œYou don’t have to sound so smug about it,” she retorted waspishly. “It was hardly a red-letter day on my calendar.”
    â€œReally? You pick up men in bars all the time, do you?”
    â€œIsn’t that like asking someone if they’ve stopped beating their wife?”
    He chuckled.
    Gideon gave a muffled snort of laughter too. His white T-shirt was sweat-stained and blotched green from the leaves they were pushing through.
    â€œGreat, so happy I can amuse you guys.” She applied the now warm, moist cloth to her hot cheeks. The mild antiseptic stung the abrasions on her skin, but it smelled fresh. She used it on her hands and as far up her arms as she could maneuver her bound wrists. She wished she could wash the blood off her skin, then pulled her thoughts back from the abyss. Blood splatter on her back was the least of her problems right now.
    She tucked the used wipe into another pocket. No littering for Acadia Gray. Even while being kidnapped. Follow the rules. Do the right thing . Acadia felt a giggle bubble up in her chest, and ruthlessly tamped down the urge. This was no laughing matter, and she wasn’t entirely sure that she’d be able to stop laughing if she started.
    â€œWhat else do you have in those hidden pockets?” Zak asked.
    The whole point of hidden pockets was that they were freaking hidden . None of the soldiers had bothered to pat her down, thanks to their scary boss. If he talked about what she was carrying, someone was sure to want to see exactly what it was. “How do you know I have pockets?”
    â€œUnless you’re a magician planning on pulling a rabbit out of your ass, I’m presuming the aspirin from earlier and that wipe were secreted in that outfit you’re wearing. What else is in there? Cough everything up, Miss Gray. Our lives might depend on whatever you’re carrying.”
    â€œYou want me to dump everything on the ground right now?” Acadia was rapidly discovering a hidden talent for sarcasm just as pointed as his.
    â€œNo. But once it makes sense, I want to inventory everything you brought.” He paused. “How heavy are your clothes?”
    â€œAn extra eighteen pounds, that’s all.” Although, after walking for what seemed like days, the weight seemed to be increasing with every step. “I have just about everything we might need,” she admitted, sotto voce. “Except, unfortunately, a weapon.”
    He came up right beside her, his arm brushing hers. “You’d be surprised what can be made into one.”
    â€œI know how to make a