by Susan Stoker
“Careful of your feet, sweetheart,” Beatle said.
As soon as he finished speaking, Truck pulled the upper stick out of the ropes.
If Casey thought she and Beatle had been close before, it was nothing compared to what they were like now. Touching from chest to toes, she’d never been held as tightly to someone as Beatle was holding her at the moment.
It was his turn to wiggle, subtly shifting her next to him, and making her more comfortable in the process.
“I’ll be over there,” Truck said with a head jerk. “Yell if she needs anything.”
“Thanks, Truck,” Beatle told his friend quietly.
Then they were alone. As was usual in the jungle, one minute it was dusk, and the next it was pitch dark. She stiffened, the darkness reminding her of the hole she’d been in hours ago.
“My parents live in Tennessee. They have one of those authentic log cabins. You know, like you’d see in Colorado or something. They actually have to hand crank the logs every now and then to make sure they stay together. My mom is a self-professed book nerd. She reads voraciously. Every time I go home, she has a new author she’s obsessed over. Her favorite thing to do is snuggle up with a fuzzy blanket and read while my dad watches whatever sport is in season on TV.”
Casey knew what he was doing, and appreciated it more than he knew. “Do they get along?”
“My parents? Yeah. They’ve been married for thirty-five years. I’m not saying they don’t argue or get pissed at each other, but at the end of the day, they always say they love each other. I always thought their kind of love was normal. I never even considered that others didn’t have that, until high school, then I truly understood what other kids went through with nasty divorces and only having one parent. Going overseas and seeing the kinds of lives others lead has only made me appreciate them more.”
“Do you have any siblings?” Casey asked, then yawned.
She felt Beatle’s lips brush across her forehead and he tightened his arm around her. She placed her hand flat on his chest and heard the steady thump-thump-thump of his heartbeat as he spoke.
“Nope. I didn’t really miss them, but seeing how close you are to Blade makes me wish I had a little sister.”
“Big brothers are a pain in the ass,” she whispered, but smiled against his chest.
“I remember this one time when I was fifteen, I…”
Casey closed her eyes as she listened to Beatle’s stories. She occasionally asked a question, but for the most part, she let his southern drawl comfort and relax her. She realized after a while that she didn’t hurt anymore. Whatever painkiller Truck had added to her IV had worked wonders. She was comfortable for the first time in a long while, and more importantly, she felt safe.
Sighing once and nuzzling into the man at her side, Casey let herself drift off, secure in the knowledge that Beatle would protect her when she was asleep and vulnerable.
* * *
Beatle knew the second Casey fell asleep next to him. Every muscle in her body went limp, as if she’d been holding herself stiff for years. Her body melted even closer to his, and it was the most amazing feeling he’d ever had in his life.
He hadn’t lied earlier when he’d told Casey he’d kill or die for her. It was that simple…and that complicated.
They had a lot of hurdles ahead of them.
The least of which was getting out of the jungle and out of Costa Rica.
But beyond that was the niggling feeling that, even once they were back in the States, she wouldn’t be safe. Her kidnapping wasn’t normal. And not normal meant trouble. He didn’t know where the danger lurked, but he knew it was out there waiting. For his woman.
No way in fuck was he going to let her be put in another situation like the one from which she’d just been rescued.
“Sleep well, sweetheart,” he murmured, closing his eyes. He and Truck would catnap, but neither would sleep deeply. Not now. They’d trained their bodies to rest, but not go all the way under when they were in the middle of a mission. While their situation wasn’t dire, as it sometimes was when working, they never took anything for granted. Until their feet touched Texas soil, they wouldn’t let down their guard.
Especially not with the life of the woman in his arms at stake.
As the night sounds of the Costa Rican jungle serenaded him, Beatle planned for his and Casey’s future in his head. First goal was getting her home. Then he’d worry about convincing her to spend the rest of her life with him.
Chapter Seven
The next morning, Beatle and Truck were all business. Casey woke when Beatle climbed out of the cocoon they’d slept in all night. She realized that she’d slept better than she had in years. Which was crazy. She was covered with sweat from sharing body heat with Beatle all night, and wasn’t exactly out of danger, but she’d still slept like a log.
She figured the pain medicine Truck had administered had helped her sleep, but deep down, she knew even drugs wouldn’t have kept her under if she hadn’t felt safe.
When Beatle had rolled out of the hammock, he’d kissed her on the forehead and ordered her to stay put. So she had. She’d watched Beatle and his teammate quickly and efficiently pack up as much of the camp as they could while they ate a couple protein bars for breakfast.
She was more than ready to get up and stretch when Beatle walked over to her.
“Need some help?” he asked with a smile.
“Please. I feel like I’m a pupa ready to emerge from my cocoon.”
“Apt description, Dr. Shea.” He removed the mosquito netting from above her, folded it into a small square and put it on the ground next to the hammock. “I’ll hold open the sides of the hammock. Slowly swing your legs out toward me then sit up. When you have your balance, I’ll help you stand. Put your feet on the netting so they don’t get dirty. Ready?”
Casey nodded and, when he flattened the hammock, she awkwardly moved until her legs were over the side as he’d instructed. Standing was tougher. Her muscles were stiff from the unaccustomed movement of the day before after so long being cooped up in the hole. Biting her lip to keep her groan from escaping, she stood on wobbly legs. The second she cleared the hammock, Beatle bent slightly in front of her and put both hands on her hips, steadying her.
“Okay?”
She nodded, even though she didn’t feel okay.
“Truck!” Beatle bellowed. “Need those pills!” Then he turned back to Casey. “Easy, sweetheart. Getting up is always the hardest part.”
“And you know this how?” she bit out, a bit harsher than she wanted to. “You ever been thrown in a hole then forced to hike for miles on numb feet?”
The second the words were out, she regretted them. Beatle didn’t deserve her anger.
“No,” he said calmly. “But I have been captured by terrorists, tortured, then had to walk my ass through the desert to reach the extraction point.”
Casey swallowed hard and forced herself to look at the man in front of her. “I’m sorry,” she said between clenched teeth.
Beatle didn’t look upset in the least. He reached up and ran his hand over her head. “You have nothing to be sorry about.”
“I didn’t mean to be a bitch.”
Beatle huffed out a small laugh. “If that was you being a bitch, I don’t think I have to worry about your temper in the future.” Then he turned and held out a hand to Truck.
Casey didn’t know how long the other man had been standing there, but figured he’d probably heard her awful words to his teammate. She dared to glance up at him and was surprised when he winked at her.
“Beatle’s right. When you get moving, you’ll feel better. Promise.”
She nodded and looked back at Beatle. He kept one hand on her hip to steady her but was holding a canteen with the other. “Truck will take out your IV. It looks like it did the trick and you’re no longer dehydrated. I recommend you take some painkillers this morning, and probably for the next few days.”
Casey nodded and reached for the canteen. Truck handed her two white pills and she swallowed them without asking what they were. She trusted these men. If they thought she should take them, and that they’d help her, she’d do it.
When she’d swallowed the drugs, she handed the canteen back to Beatle. He straightened and, without warning, lifted her into his arms. Casey squealed and threw her arms around his neck for balance. “What are you doing?” she asked in a high-pitched voice she almost didn’t recognize as her own.
“I’m assuming you need to visit the ladies’ room?” he asked with a lift of one of his eyebrows.
Blushing, Casey realized that she did need to pee. Badly. She simply nodded.
Beatle returned her nod and strode into the jungle with her in his arms. If he thought she was going to—
Her thought was interrupted when he stopped next to a tall tree and asked, “This look okay? No weird creepy-crawlies to bite or sting you while you’re doing your business?”
Casey looked down automatically. The area seemed clear of ant mounds and any spiders or snakes. So she nodded.
“Great. I’ll be over there,” Beatle said, pointing to a tree. “Just yell when you’re done and I’ll bring you back to camp.”
She wanted to say she could get herself back, but that would be silly, considering she was barefoot. So she nodded and tried not to blush. It was stupid to be embarrassed about peeing. She’d seen him and Truck taking breaks the day before, stepping off the trail behind a tree to do their business. Heck, she and the girls had peed in the jungle all the time when they’d been researching…but this was different.
He was gone before she had a chance to say anything, and she quickly did what she had to do. It was crazy how long it had been since she’d had to pee. She’d been so dehydrated that her body had used every ounce of liquid in it. As embarrassing as it was to have to be carried to the restroom, simply having to pee meant she was getting back to normal, which was literally a miracle. She’d take it.
She called out to Beatle and he appeared within seconds. She appreciated him not making the situation weirder than it already was. By the time they’d gotten back to camp, Truck had cleared away the hammock she and Beatle had slept in and all that was left was the little stool, the square of netting, one of the collapsible buckets with water in it, and the chamois.
Beatle put her down next to the stool and said, “Sit.”
Casey sat.
As she ate breakfast, another MRE, Beatle and Truck worked on her feet. She’d been washed, massaged, dried, gooped up, and bandaged. She hadn’t had such treatment since the last time she’d been to the spa. Then, while Truck took care of the water, Beatle had gently rolled a pair of his sock liners on her feet. They were way too big, but they were dry, and that was all that mattered.
He then pulled a pair of wool socks over them, also too big. The heel came to the back of her ankle. Beatle grimaced and said, “I know they don’t fit all that great, but they’re dry. Yours should be good by tomorrow, but we need to keep moving.”
“I know. They’ll be fine,” Casey reassured him.
“You’ll have to wear your own shoes, there’s nothing I can do about that. They’re still wet, but better than yesterday. The socks and liners should keep your feet dry though. Let me know if you feel any wetness on your feet today, or if they start hurting unbearably.” He paused then and looked up at her. “I mean it, Case. If your feet are too painful to walk on, we’ll figure something else out. The last thing you want to do is be stoic out here in regards to your feet. You could do irreparable damage to yourself if you don’t speak up. Okay?”
“Okay,” she agreed instantly. “I will. I promise.”
“I wish the stupid chopper could pick us up,” Beatle murmured as he bent and concentrated on getting her boots on over her feet.
“Did Ghost ever find out why it couldn’t?” Casey asked.
“Not as far as I know,” he grumbled. “Assholes.”
After tying the second boot and making sure it wasn’t too tight or loose on her foot, Beatle gripped her calves and looked up at her. “I’m serious about you speaking up if you’re hurting, sweetheart. We aren’t on the run from terrorists, and I don’t think there will be any trouble as we make our way to Guacalito. There’s no need to be a hero. If you need a break, say something. I’ll be watching you, but I have a feeling you’re really good at hiding your feelings and hurts. I’ll probably annoy you with how many times I ask how you’re doing, whether you’re hungry, if you need a break or water. Bear with me, okay? This isn’t a race. We’ll get there when we get there.”
Casey swallowed hard. His words meant everything. She relaxed her shoulders. Beatle admitting he didn’t think they would be pursued lifted a load she hadn’t realized she was carrying. She took a deep breath. “You might not be in any hurry, but I am. I think I’ve seen enough of the jungle for a while.”
His lips quirked upward. “Understandable. Ready to see how well those feet feel?”
Casey nodded and Beatle stood. He took her hands in his and pulled her to her feet. She swayed for a moment, getting used to the boots once again. Then she dropped her hands and took a tentative step, expecting to feel pain, but amazingly, it wasn’t too bad. She took another step. Then another. Then she walked around the small clearing.
Beatle and Truck watched from the sidelines, assessing her. She ended up back in front of Beatle. “I’m good.”
“I know you are,” was his response. He handed her a plastic package. Casey looked down at it then her eyes whipped back up to his. “Another pound cake?”
He shrugged. “You seemed to enjoy it last night. Figured it’d be a nice after-breakfast snack, better than a protein bar…although you’ll be eating plenty of those too.”
“You’re going to be stuffing me with food all the time, aren’t you?”
Beatle nodded. “Yup. You need the calories after what you’ve been through. Lots of small meals will work better than a couple of huge ones.”
She smiled at the reminder. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Then he surprised her by leaning forward and kissing her on the forehead gently. He held out a rubber band. “For your hair.”
She took it without a word, still thinking about the kiss. It was a tender gesture. One that a man who’d been dating a woman for a long time would use. But it felt right—and that was what worried her. She could get used to his caring gestures, despite knowing it would hurt when he dropped her off at the airport and got back to his own life, just as she got back to hers.
Swallowing hard, Casey ate her cake as she watched the men finish getting ready to go. She had just put her hair up when Beatle came back and held out a small bottle.
“What’s that?”
“Bug spray. I’ll do you if you do me.”
The words weren’t meant to be sexual, but Casey’s thighs clenched together just the same. She tried to cover up her inappropriate reaction by reaching for the canister. Beatle turned around so she could spray his back, and she was glad for the reprieve.
When she had finished covering him with the necessary protection, he took the bottle and said, “Close your eyes.”
She did, expecting to feel the wetness from the spray on her face. Instead she heard the spray, but didn’t feel anything for a second—then his wet fingers spread the liquid carefully on her face. It was intimate and once again, caring.
He carefully smeared the protection all over her face, neck, and ears, then told her to hold her breath. She did, and he proceeded to cover the rest of her clothes and body with the repellent.
“All done,” he told her, and she opened her eyes. He was tucking the bottle into a small pocket on his vest. He looked up and caught her eyes. “Ready?”
“More than,” she replied.
Beatle held out his hand, palm up, without a word.
Casey had never felt as safe as she did when his fingers wrapped around hers. Without looking back, they were o
n their way, Beatle in front with Casey close behind him. Her hand was still in his, and Truck was bringing up the rear.
She’d heard the larger man talking on the radio earlier, and he’d confirmed that everything looked good between them and the other three men in the jungle. Ghost and her brother were well on their way to San José. Soon this whole thing would be a memory.
Casey knew she had lost her mind when she found herself wishing time would slow down. She had a feeling saying goodbye to Beatle would be harder than the trek she was about to take through the jungle.
Chapter Eight
The walking was slow that morning, but Beatle didn’t mind. For once, he didn’t feel as if he was on the run from anything or anyone. He kept a close eye on Casey and they took breaks at least twice an hour. At this rate, it would take forever to get back to Guacalito, but Beatle didn’t want to do anything that might tax Casey too much. She’d already been through one hell of an ordeal.
He couldn’t help but admire her. Even after she’d been thrown into that pit, she’d managed to be resourceful. He hadn’t missed how she’d used her bra to filter water, or piled up the boards to get her feet and body out of the fluid at the bottom. He’d also noticed she’d done her damnedest to claw her way out, without success. But even if she had been able to get to the top of the hole, she wouldn’t have been able to break through the boards, which had been tightly secured over the entrance with vines.
She would’ve died in another couple days if they hadn’t found her.
Beatle tried to shove the depressing thoughts away. They had found her, and she was doing amazingly well. They’d all been prepared to carry her out of the jungle and to safety, but so far that hadn’t been necessary. The overnight break had done wonders for her feet, as well as her overall health. She wasn’t completely back to normal, but she was getting there.
“Oh! Watch out!” Casey cried.
Beatle froze, and had his pistol out and ready to use before the last word had escaped her lips.
