Mateo gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles ached. Every mile they covered drove the knife of guilt deeper. He’d been trained to compartmentalize, to do what needed to be done without hesitation, but this was different. Every broken breath she took reminded him of the price of this assignment.
I can’t do it. She’s going to die, and it’s going to be my fault.Rampant thoughts crashed through his mind like a train off its tracks.
The jeep lurched violently over a root, snapping him out of his head. Reaching under his seat, he pulled out the small black emergency comm he had stashed away months ago. A single-use lifeline he was never supposed to need unless his cover was blown beyond recovery.
Which, at this point, it is.
He flicked the switch, the faint hum of static filling the cabin. “Come on, come on,” he muttered, toggling through encrypted channels with one hand until he reached the emergency frequency linked to the task force back in the States.
As the tires slid through thick mud, he adjusted the signal parameters, tapping out the coordinates and updatingthe message. But before he could append the distress code or identify himself, the jeep jolted hard over a giant hole. His thumb slipped, and the comm beeped sharply as he tried to stop the car from lurching to one side.
“Shit!” The message transmitted was incomplete. Who knows what scrambled mess of code fragments had been sent. “No, no, no, fuck!” He slammed the steering wheel, the echo of his curse swallowed by the jungle.
For a second, he sat there with the comm blinking uselessly in his palm. It was designed to serve as a burner, used to send an encrypted code to alert the task force what kind of emergency he was in along with his coordinates—fire and forget.
It’s only useful as a fucking paperweight now.
He made a snap decision. He opened the window and hurled it into the dense brush, letting it vanish into the trailing darkness behind him.
He glanced back to check on Gabriella, noting her stiff back and face turned away from him. Even in her misery she was gorgeous. He looked forward once more, ignoring the insistent magnetic pull of her behind him, scolding himself for his fuck up.
Someone at the task force would get my message. They had to.He just hoped they could figure out who’d sent it and where it had come from before it was too late. The jungle gave a moment of reprieve as the narrow trail opened to a clearing, revealing the poaching camp. Canvas tents and makeshift shacks were scattered around a fire pit, dimly lit by oil lamps. The stench of diesel, rot, and fear hung in the air. Men shouted orders, their movements brisk, and beneath their training, a quiet lull of desperation. The operation was being torn down fast. They were getting ready to move either across the border into Nicaragua or down to Panama.
He reflected on that. The signal he accidentally sent out included the coordinates for Panama, where he would push for them to move. He prayed that no one would challenge his decision.
Mateo slowed the jeep and rolled in, headlights cutting through the smoke. A handful of men turned, rifles slung across their chests, suspicion flashing in their eyes. One of them, a thick-necked and big-bellied man with skin baked by the sun and eyes gone cold long ago, strode up to the driver’s side and looked up at Mateo. Mateo had to school his face from looking like he had sucked on a lemon when he realized who it was.
José, his second in command, asked, “¿Trajiste la gringa?”Did you bring the foreigner?
The question twisted Mateo’s stomach. He forced his grip to relax before it betrayed him. “Sí, está conmigo,” he said evenly.Yes, she’s with me.
José smirked, the leer on his face cruel. He tilted his head to peer into the backseat, licking his lips. “Diay … no puedo esperar probarla.”I can’t wait to taste her.
The relationship he held with José was balanced on a precariously taut line, one where he ruled the camp but José constantly challenged his authority. Which made sense, as he had the longest tenure to this operation. But in times like this, Mateo wished his fantasy of putting a bullet between his eyes came true.
With Gabriella trembling behind him, the thought of José, ofanybody, touching Gabriella set Mateo’s blood afire, like a match to gasoline. He revved the engine hard, the growl of the motor making several men flinch as he towered over the portly man.
“Ella es mía,” he snarled, voice low and dangerous. “No permitiré que la manches.”
She’s mine. I won’t let you sully her.
José took a wary step back, his smirk faltering, though his tone turned mocking. “Está bien, pero los hombres se enfadan. Hace semanas que no podemos ir al pueblo a por provisiones.”
Fine, but the men will get angry. It’s been weeks since we could go to town for comforts.
Towards the end of any operation Mateo ran, he kept his men low to the ground and disciplined to not fuck up. Often cutting out booze and women to keep their heads straight. So bringing Gabriella to a den of wolves had not been his ideal choice, but it had been the safest. Why? Because he was the fucking alpha of them all despite how often José tried to start shit. And he would protect her, with his last dying breath.
Mateo killed the engine and jumped out, boots sinking into the mud. “No es mi problema,” he shot back sharply. “Sabían en lo que se metían cuando se apuntaron a esto.”
Not my problem. They knew what they were getting into when they signed up for this.
So eat shit, he thought.
He didn’t wait for a reply. Striding to the back, he yanked open the hatch. Gabriella flinched, her bound hands trembling, muffled sounds of protest catching behind the gag. Her eyes—terrified and defiant—locked on his. For a second, something in his chest twisted painfully.
Trying to save her from death only resulted in him bringing her closer to the heart of danger.I’m going to be the reason she dies, like all the others.
Urgent voices in the distance reminded him of their time constraints. He untied her legs, ignoring the way her floral scent seemed to wrap around him. The ropes had left marks on her skin, deep grooves of red that only added to the remorse he seemed to be drowning in.