I need to focus. I am the only one who can keep her safe.
He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her from the jeep. “Come on,” he muttered under his breath, more to himself than to her. Their boots squished and sucked underneath mud. His men stared at them as he dragged her towards his tent at the far edge of camp, a battered green structure half-concealed by palms.
Once inside, he ducked quickly and began moving with precise efficiency. He directed her towards the bed, told her tostay,despite the obvious way she stumbled towards it. She let out a small whimper.
Yeah, throw your weight around and you’re no different than her ex.
The tent had already felt small given his size, but now with her in it? Fuck, he was suffocating. Despite the scent of rain and earth around him, he couldsmellher … pulling on the edges of the darkness within him that begged to draw her closer to him. Everything about her was a compulsion and it was driving him insane. He wanted to bury his face between her legs, inhale her scent that tantalized him, and lick every crevice of her sweat-stained skin.
Focus! I need to clean up and get her moving.
The room was barely thirty square feet, with the makeshift bed Gabriella sat on taking up nearly half of the room. Papers and notes were cluttered on a crate against the opposite wall, reminding him of what he needed to do.
Gathering the papers for his next move, it took little to no effort to shove a crate aside, revealing a hidden hole beneath the makeshift floorboards where his burner phones, weapon cache, and encrypted maps were stashed. Everything he had worked on was hidden in this one spot.
He glanced back at Gabriella, who he knew was still probably trying to wrap her head around everything. He risked her telling someone, even José, of what he had kept hidden.
With speed, he turned back to her and squatted to eye level with her, which was easy given his large frame. “Gabriella, this is where the part of trust comes in.” He pressed a finger to his lips mimicking the quiet motion. “I am trusting you won’t tell anyone what you’ve seen. Okay? It would get us both killed.”
The proximity of their bodies meant he saw the exact shade of her eyes—a bright green with gold specks that seemed to see straight through him. He knew he didn’t deserve her trust, but he had accepted his moral compass had shattered long ago if it meant protecting those he cared for. And she was the last one left on his list.
The camp was moving soon, and he needed these items hidden before anyone decided to inspect his space. He pressed again, “Nod if you understand. Theywillkill us both.”
Flushed and wary, her brows knit together, but after a moment she gave a terse nod.
“Atta girl,” he said and gave her a quick peck on her forehead which made her stumble farther into the bed with an indignant sound. He stood, raising his arms in surrender. “Sorry, you were too cute. I’ll behave.”
He turned back once more. The ground was wet, which was ample enough to ruin the maps he shoved deeper into the mud, covering them with a layer of dirt before he loaded the burner and extra weapons on him.
He cursed, tucked the boards back into place, and covered it with jungle foliage, the hidden compartment sealed once more. Even if they removed everything and took the wood, the only thing anyone would notice was dirt. With no time to investigate anymore, he felt confident the ruined maps would not pose a threat.
Then he glanced towards the flap of the tent and exhaled through his teeth, wondering if he should do more when her movement caught his eye. He looked at her.
Her eyes darted everywhere. First to the weapons now hidden on him, to the radio, and finally to the faint moonlight filtering through the torn canvas. She tried to speak around the gag, voice muffled. “Mateo.”
His eyes noted her red rimmed ones. “There’s more than you know going on,” he confessed, waiting a moment for her to acknowledge what he said.
Still squatting, he reached over to snag an ankle, her heated skin warming his own as he pulled her towards him. She let out a small muffled squeak that he enjoyed a little too much. He scooted closer until his chest was brushing her knees. Every muscle in her body tensed, like a tapeti awaiting a predator, she was accepting of her fate with a defiance in her eyes that pleased him.
Gods, he wanted to tell her the truth … that he was still one of the good guys, that she wasn’t his prisoner, that this would all be over soon.But lies were his only armor now, meant to keep them both safe.
He gently touched her knee, lowering his voice. “Trust me Gabriella,” he said, the words barely a whisper above the chaos outside. “Whatever happens, do exactly what I say. I’ll get you out. I swear it with my life.”
Her green eyes glistened with a chaotic storm of emotions and something heartbreakingly human. She didn’t nod, but she didn’t pull away from his touch either. She was waiting to see what he would do next. An unspoken olive branch. They both knew how intimate she was with being betrayed by someone, and yet she didn’t shove his touch away or resist when he asked her to wait.
She was trusting him, in a way, and it was so fucking empowering to him he had to fight every urge in him not to pull her into his arms and comfort her. To sink into her warmth andkiss her until neither of them could remember the sea of death and torment awaiting them.
Outside, someone shouted orders as the metallic clatter of rifles being checked and crates being loaded rattled the tent, breaking the spell between them.
A random shot of gunfire caused both of them to jerk. Gabriella leaned forward, pressed her face to his shoulder, the heat of her body sending jolts of pleasure throughout him that he tried to ignore. That became increasingly harder when she whimpered softly, bringing out every protective instinct.
She might be the death of me, he mused, hand hovering near his own weapon in preparation for any more gunfire. When the chaos of the camp breakdown continued and no further shots sounded, he released his grip. He patted her back soothingly. “It’s over Gabriella. Let’s get ready to move.”
Though his words were meant to comfort, it did little to still the staccato rhythm of his own heart. Things were getting complicated, and in the jungle,complicatedusually meant someone didn’t make it out alive.
CHAPTER 7
GABRIELLA