"Yeah, but I'm the one with the gun." The light was barely enough to make out Doug's outline in the gloom, but I heard the snarl in his tone.
"Yes, you are." Mitch's jaw clenched against the top of my head.
My legs had gone numb beneath me, pins and needles shooting through my calves. I should move. Get up. Do something. But I couldn't. Not with that rifle pointed at us. Not with Doug's finger on the trigger. So, I stayed between Mitch's legs, hating how helpless I felt, hating that the only thing keeping me from falling apart was the steady rise and fall of Mitch's chest against my back.
Or maybe I just didn't know what to do or say anymore. The Doug I thought I’d known was gone. I didn't recognize him.
Time felt elastic and strange.
Doug laughed, a broken, bitter sound that echoed off the stone. "You think I'm crazy, don't you?"
"I think you're scared," Mitch said.
"Damn right, I'm scared." His voice cracked. "You have no idea what those bastards will do if I don't pay them back … what they'll do to my daughter."
"So, tell us," I said, hoping he'd say something that explained his bullshit.
"Why? So, you can judge me? Tell me I should've been smarter, and made better choices?"
"No. So, we can help you and your daughter," Mitch said.
His calmness was incredible, as though he'd talked someone down from the edge before. Was that a cowboy skill, or was Mitch more than what he seemed? Either way, I was glad he was on my side.
Doug released a hollow laugh that made my skin crawl. He clutched the velvet pouch to his chest, and for a second, his expression crumbled, not from anger but pure desperation. "You don't understand. These assholes will hurt my daughter. She's only ten years old, and they … " His voice cracked. "You can't help me. Nobody can. The only thing that helps is money. Two hundred grand. That's what they want. And this …" he shook the pouch, "… this could be enough.” The gems jingled as he rolled the pouch in his hand.
"Those jewels are stolen," Mitch said. "You can't sell them."
"Oh, so you do know about them?" Suspicion sharpened his voice.
"No, I don't have a clue," Mitch said. "But that skeleton didn't whack himself in the head. Someone killed him, yet they left the jewels behind. I'd say they were scared of who they belonged to."
"I don't care who they belonged to." Doug's voice hardened. "All I care about is keeping my daughter safe."
"And what about Charlie? What about keeping her safe?"
My breath caught. Mitch's arm tightened around me.
The question hung in the air.
"Fuck you," Doug bit out.
"Yeah." Mitch exhaled slowly. "Fuck me."
The soft light filtering through the tunnel gradually grew brighter, painting the cave walls in shades of charcoal and ash. Doug's face emerged from the shadows. He looked haggard and desperate. No resemblance to the academic professor I thought I’d known. "Doug, this isn't you. You're not this person."
"You don't know who I am," he shifted against the wall, "or what I've done to keep Roxanne safe this long."
"Then tell me," I said. "We've worked together for months. I thought we were?—"
"What? Friends?" He laughed bitterly. "I needed to get away from Brisbane, and you can't get any further from the city than this shit hole."
The words hit like a physical blow. "You asshole." I lurched forward, Mitch's arms the only thing keeping me from launching myself at Doug. "You used me. You never cared about my research. You just needed somewhere to hide."
Doug's silence was answer enough.
"All those emails we sent back and forth," I continued, my voice shaking. "All those nights I stayed up planning this trip, thinking you actually gave a shit about my work?—"
"I did give a shit," Doug snapped. "At first."