Eye of the Storm

by Amy McKinley

  Each moment that ticked by eased the tension in his body. He waited a good thirty minutes. With no one in sight, Chris ducked back beneath the fallen branch to check on Mari. Relief washed over him when he saw her lashes flutter open. “Good to see you’re back.” He lifted the netting and brushed her hair away from her cheek. It hung loose in long waves.

  Mouth curving into a grin, she gave him a wink. “As if there was any doubt.”

  He handed her the canteen so the water could ease her scratchy throat. “Not a one. You pulled through like a champ.” He talked in whispers, and she mimicked him. “How are you feeling?”

  She took another gulp before answering him. “The intense pain is gone. For that I’m grateful.” Her large brown eyes filled with tears. “I swear the jungle hates me. The longer we stay here, the lower I think my chances are of making it out.”

  With his fingertip, he brushed aside a tear that escaped. “I’ll keep you alive. Stop worrying about that. Tell me what you’re feeling so I can figure out what else you need.” He pulled out the vial with antibiotic and prepared another syringe. “I want to make sure you don’t get an infection, so bear with me for a sec.” He wiped her skin with an alcohol pad and quickly gave her a shot.

  “How does my ankle look? Will I lose my leg?” Her voice cracked, and he ached for her.

  “No, babe.” The pads of his fingers gently caressed her cheek. “You’re going to be good as new in a few days.” He peeled back the loose bandage, cleaned the wound again, and replaced it with a new one. The bruising was still there, a sign of internal bleeding, and the swelling remained, but it hadn’t gotten any worse. In fact, it appeared to have decreased some.

  “How much antivenin did you have to give me?”

  “Ten shots. I debated over another one, but you improved after an hour from the last injection. I think we’re in the clear.”

  She frowned. “I didn’t think we had that much.”

  “We didn’t. I was able to give you several injections before our vial was dry.”

  “So what’d you do?”

  There was no avoiding telling her. “I took more from the guerrilla camp.”

  Her pupils dilated and covered her rich brown irises. She reached for the gun at her side and curled her fingers tightly around it. “Are we safe?”

  “Somewhat.” He grunted. “I rigged the area around us, so if they cross the perimeter, we’ll know. That’ll buy us some time.”

  “Why?”

  “Just a safety precaution.” He chose not to add to her stress with the near-capture experience he’d had—it’d been too close for comfort. “We’re going to try to camp here for a few more hours. We’ll stay in the canoe as much as possible, or I’ll carry you. If we had a week for you to recover, that would be ideal, but we don’t. A few days off your leg and traveling by water is all we can risk.” He clenched his jaw, worried they’d ambush them even with the few hours he wanted to give her.

  She grabbed his wrist. “What happened?” Alarm pulled her features tight. “I can tell you’re holding something back.”

  He hooked his finger in his hammock and secured it, stopping it from swinging before he took a seat. All the while, Mari scanned what he wore, obviously noticing the weapons strapped all over him, before her focus caught on the dark spot and tear on his shoulder. “Were you shot?”

  Palms up, he tried to stop her rising concern. “It’s nothing, I swear. Just a graze.”

  It hadn’t worked. He could tell she was panicked. “They saw you, didn’t they? Are they coming? How much time do we really have?”

  “Yes, they saw me.” His jaw pulsed. “I led them away. We should be good for a while. That’s not all, though. I overheard the leader of their group talking. They’re looking for you, specifically. You were referred to by name.” He waited a beat, hoping she’d interject, but gave up after she said nothing. She pressed her lips into a tight line. “There was no mention of Hannah. You’re to be captured, unharmed. Why is that?”

  She shifted, confusion and fear vying for dominance over her features. “I don’t know why the guerrillas are after me. Maybe because Hannah killed the one chasing me? Like you said before, there could have been another—his partner—who saw him go after me. Then, when he didn’t return—when he was found—the other one probably told the leader. I guess.”

  The events she described churned in Chris’s brain. Doubtful, although I guess there’s a slight chance that could be it. What about the cartel captains? He’d hoped she would confide in him. He would give her some time. He’d do everything he could to keep her safe. “You need to stay as calm as possible. Try to get some rest, and let your body heal some more. I’ll keep watch.”

  Mari flashed a small smile, did as he said, and shut her eyes. He stayed, watching her as she fell into an inconsistent, uncomfortable sleep. She awoke every so often, a grimace of discomfort marring her beautiful face. More time would have been ideal. He pulled the medical supplies out, quickly cleaned his shoulder wound, and placed a bandage over it.

  He’d heal. His focus was Mari. He continued with the antibiotics and debated over another injection of antivenin, but so far he thought she was going to recover. Any damage sustained would reveal itself soon.

  Tired of wrestling with the dilemma, he readied another antivenin shot and gave it to her. She barely stirred, exhaustion riding her hard. He replaced the netting over her then bent down and grabbed another can of DEET, which he reapplied to try to deter bug bites. He slipped back outside, checked the area, and did what felt right—he took up position to watch for the enemy.

  Chris

  The jungle settled into its nocturnal harmony. Each tree’s leaves played a different tune in the gentle breeze. Nighttime animals scurried around, some calling to each other. A light drizzle made the leaves glisten in the moonlight and the dirt beneath Chris’s boots slippery. Dawn was due to arrive shortly.

  Mari had slept seven fitful hours. In that time, he’d given her another dose of antibiotics. It was time to do so again. He prepped the needle then swabbed her skin. The tiny prick of the shot caused her eyelids to open, and she cleared her throat. “Hi.”

  “Feeling any better?” He caught the sleepy expression that softened her features and made him want to kiss her even more than he already did.

  “Yeah. I think so. My ankle itches though.”

  He closed the distance between them and shifted her ankle into a shaft of moonlight. Peeling back the dressing, he inspected her injury. There weren’t any angry red lines or pus coming from it. “It looks pretty good. Could be a sign it’s healing.” He cleaned it again and taped a fresh bandage over it to ward away bacteria and infection. In an ideal environment, he would have left the loose covering off. But in the jungle, there was no way he would take that chance.

  “Our roles are reversed, huh?” She grinned, her natural spirit overriding the last traces of fear he saw. “Have to say I sort of prefer taking care of you. Sitting here sucks.” Crinkling her nose, she grimaced. “Ah, I have to go to the bathroom.”

  “Being immobile is hell.” He helped her from the hammock, carried her outside their camp, and placed her on the elongated web of tree roots that grew several inches above ground. Where he set her was a perfect little v shape that acted like a seat. He tugged up his T-shirt that covered her to her thighs and helped her to bunch it around her waist.

  With reluctance at leaving her side, he went halfway around the huge trunk to give her some privacy. “Try not to put too much pressure on your leg.”

  “Could you maybe not listen?”

  He chuckled. “What would you like me to do? Hum a song?”

  “That would be nice. Or maybe just talk to me?”

  “Okay. Here’s the thing. I’m starving, and we need to eat to keep up our strength. I’ve been toying with the idea of hunting, but I’m worried about leaving you alone for too long.”

  “I’m done.”

  “That was fast.” He went around and p
icked her back up. Red colored her cheeks, and she refused to look at him. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Shit, I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve been in awkward situations with my brother.”

  Her hand jerked against his shirt. “What?”

  “I…” They stood there together, him holding her tight to his chest, the sounds of the jungle loud in his ears. An image filled his mind of a man who had his head thrown back in laughter, with an ever-present scruff over his square jaw. “Fuck. I have a brother.”

  “What’s his name?”

  What is it? He frowned. She should know this.

  “Don’t give me that look.” Her eyes sparked with aggression. “I told you we were barely together, barely married. Besides, your memories should come back to you naturally.” A flash of uncertainty drew her brows together at his silence. “We had a sort of shotgun wedding. You were on vacation. I was infatuated. It was sudden.” She sucked in a breath then clamped her lips together.

  Hmm… Still doesn’t sound right, but I’ll get the full story from her eventually. Stepping over another root that threatened to take them both to the ground, he covered the distance to their camp and ducked inside. After settling her in her hammock and making sure she was comfortable, he paced the small circular area and let the small window to his past open. “I can see his face. Sort of. His name is Trevor, but he went by Trev. Something happened. I can’t remember what.”

  “What do you mean? Like he was in an accident or—”

  “No.” He absently brushed her concerned question aside. “I just know there’s a problem, but I have no clue what it’s about.”

  She snagged him with a hand as he made another circle around the confining space, and he immediately stopped, not wanting to topple her from the hammock.

  Her face begged him to listen, so he did. “Chris”—her hand cupped the side of his face—“since you’re recalling little parts of your past, it has to fully come back. You’re stressing over it, though, which is understandable but maybe not productive. So let it go, and know they should slip right back in on their own schedule.”

  Her gentle touch fell away, and as he ran a hand over his scratchy face, he growled. “It’s so damn unnerving.”

  “Of course it is. Hey, when’s the last time you slept?”

  “Huh? Oh, I have no idea.”

  “Well, I’m completely awake. I’ve got the gun you gave me, and I’m a dead ringer at shooting. I’ll cover us from here while you grab a couple of hours.”

  He hated that she was right. He’d seen her shoot, so he didn’t worry much about her accuracy. What good will I be if I’m not alert? “Yeah, maybe just a little while. But wake me up as soon as you’re getting tired.” He locked his gaze with hers. “Promise me.”

  She waved away his concern. “Yep. No problem.”

  Part of him worried that, once he closed his eyes, things would go to hell.

  Chapter 15

  Chris

  Chris’s breath had sawed in and out. “What the fuck did you do?” He faced off with his brother, his heart a bloody mess. With barely restrained violence, he slammed his fist into Trevor’s jaw. “She was going to be my wife.” Someday. “She chose me.”

  Trevor took the hit, and out of frustration, Chris punched him again. Jessie swore there was no one else. Anger and pain sizzled along his taut skin as the image of his fiancée, naked and in bed with his brother, tore at his gut.

  With his surfer looks and easygoing personality, Trevor had no trouble getting women. Chris didn’t either, but that was beside the point. Normally, none of that superficial shit would have bothered him. A small part of his brain realized that he’d dodged a bullet, and that his brother would never stab him in the back.

  Chris was the levelheaded one, analytical to the core. From a young age, he’d watched out for his younger brother against an abusive father and a neglectful, alcoholic mother. He’d been a technological genius. The sliver of himself that could see logic knew that Jessie had been banking on funding her future when she’d said yes to his proposal. What she got instead was a view into a life with his SEAL brothers after she had met a few of them. Several of them came from a life lived on the streets and they were thick as thieves. For the most part, this group of guys were better than whom Jessie probably envisioned herself with. They were blue collar, which wasn’t what Jessie was after.

  Their dad liked to use him and Trev as punching bags. When he wasn’t hitting them, he’d go after their mother, who was an easy target. He and Trev spent their time watching each other’s backs, and their mom’s as well, until one fatal night when she’d had too much to drink, lost in the misery of a failed marriage and abusive husband. She took a fall down the stairs and never woke up. He and Trev made a pact to always be there for one other.

  Then Jessie came along and played a number on them. Both of them had fallen for her, Chris more so than his brother. She’d been fun-loving and carefree with Trev, and went to every sporting event he took interest in. With Chris, she’d listened for hours as he talked about the latest and greatest technology. She was able to be what each of them wanted most at any particular moment. Some part of Chris’s brain had withheld his other life for a while when they were together, the one with his brothers, their time in the SEALs, and what they did now. That should have been a red flag, but she was so damn beautiful. She’d played him.

  She swore she loved him and said yes to moving in with him. She was the first girl he’d been seriously interested in.

  Trevor had been a one-night stand, or a week’s worth of them.

  “I didn’t know, man.” Trev had held his hands up, palms facing out. “She said she was single. I never would have touched her, I swear.”

  “Where is she?” Chris’s fists clenched against his sides, and he needed an outlet but fought the urge to slam them into his brother’s face.

  “That’s the thing, bro. I don’t know. It was casual between us. It didn’t mean anything. Then, the next thing I knew, she hooked up with Bradley Stanton. You know that prick.”

  As if his brother had slapped him, the name drained his anger. He was still pissed, but not seeing red. “What’d she want with him?”

  “Come on, man, you know the answer to that.” Trev ran his hands through his hair then hooked them behind his neck.

  “Money.” Fuck. That bitch had been using them. Bradley’s bank account trumped theirs tenfold. The realization she’d played all of them had slammed home.

  Chris’s body shook, and he jerked awake. Light streamed through the canopy of leaves. Out of reflex at being startled awake, he automatically grabbed the gun and pointed it at Mari. “Shit!” He lowered the pistol. “Sorry.” Dropping his head to his hands, he groaned at the memories that had plagued him during the couple of hours of sleep he’d managed to grab.

  “You okay?” Her sweet voice made him feel ten times guiltier.

  “Yeah, I’m so sorry. Waking me isn’t always the safest thing to do.”

  She laughed. “I’m not afraid of you, Chris. I know you’d never hurt me.”

  He straightened up and turned to fully face her, drinking her in. Everything about her was beautiful. Jessie had been, too, but her beauty only ran skin deep. If Jessie were in Mari’s position, she would be long gone. Taking care of anyone other than herself didn’t fit into her agenda. He just hadn’t realized it soon enough. Mari, on the other hand, genuinely cared for his well-being. Jessie was fake, all blinding smiles or dainty tears to obtain her end objective. If Mari was irritated, mad, or scared, she showed her emotions and reacted with passion. Not one part of her tried to be something she wasn’t, or so he hoped. The only thing that concerned him was if her secrets would impact their relationship.

  He scrubbed his face, trying to shake the images of Jessie. “I’m okay.” Surfacing from his dark thoughts, he realized she was hovering over him. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her on top of him in his hammock.

  She giggled a
nd tucked herself against his side, her head resting on his chest. “Tell me what you dreamed about. You shouted in your sleep, so it had to be something major.”

  Chris frowned. “Since I shouted, I should check and make sure no one was around to hear me.”

  Her hand flattened against his chest. “Stay. We’ll hear them approach. You set all those traps, right?”

  “Yeah, still.”

  “Please, Chris.” Her fingers toyed with the neckline of his T-shirt. “Tell me.”

  Dammit. I don’t want to share this with her. But secrets always have a way of biting me in the ass. She’s my wife, and I should trust her. He relaxed back, enjoying her touch as he came to a decision. “I dreamed about my brother, Trev. We were our only surviving family, at least until we joined”—shit, I wanted to keep this separate for just a little longer—“the military, but that’s not what the dream, or the memory, was about. Growing up, it was just us against our abusive prick of a father.” And then a bitch who came between us.

  “I can’t believe you never told me any of this.” With a shake of her head, she dropped her hand to rest on his abdomen. “I’m sorry, Chris. I didn’t know. What about your mother?”

  “Dead.” His voice sounded flat even to him. He wasn’t sure why it bothered him. She’d given up. She’d chosen the bottle over protecting her sons. Maybe she’d tried when they were little, but as they grew bigger, stronger, and more able to protect themselves, the fight left her. “Anyway, my brother and I both fell for this one girl. We always swore we’d have each other’s backs, no matter what. But Jessie. Fuck, she played us. I had no idea Trev was seeing her. And he didn’t know I was either, or that we’d planned to live together. It was insane. How she managed to keep us from knowing all that was a brilliant mind-fuck in itself.”

  “What happened with you and your brother?”

  “We eventually found out. But I had a huge problem with it. Trev is—”

  “He’s what?” Mari tilted her head back, and he looked down at her, catching her inquisitive expression.