Eye of the Storm

by Amy McKinley

  Kicking the foot of one of the dead guys to release a little pent-up frustration, Mari’s focus snagged on the additional outline around his jagged butterfly tattoo. “Oh.” Shit!

  “What is it?”

  “More of them. The extra outline on their tattoos means these two are part of Juan Carlos’s ‘inner circle’—his captains.”

  “He’s serious about getting you back.” Chris’s voice had turned predatory. “He won’t.”

  She twisted to look at him, scrutinized his serious expression, and pressed her mouth into a stubborn line. Needing him to take it down a notch, she tried to deter him about the captains, and from the possibility of them harming her. “Chris, we’re in the jungle. The odds of something happening are extremely high, but probably not from the cartel guys. There’s a small possibility they’re here for some other reason, and we happened to be in their path. Win-win for them. Well”—she chuckled—“not really. The win went to us.”

  He tugged her away from the dead men and back to their gear.

  She held the side of his face, and her body softened at the emotion blazing in his eyes. The dog tags burned a hole in her pocket, and she fervently hoped he’d mean that when she returned them to him.

  “It’s not just them, it’s what could’ve happened.” The intense weight of his gaze caused her to hold her breath. “I care about you. Whether I remember my past or not, you’re it for me.”

  Her heart expanded until she thought it would burst, and she confessed what she’d come to know as truth. “You’re it for me, too. I love you.” No matter how long they’d known each other, he was the only man for her. She wanted a life with him. His sheer strength fed her and gave her the courage to fight for a better existence—with him. She wanted to go to bed every night in his arms and wake up to his kisses.

  “I mean it. Whether I remember my past or not, I know my future.” His hand settled on her hip, and he drew her close. “I love you too, Mari.” In a brief caress, he brushed his lips across hers before resting his forehead against hers. “We need to move faster, be smarter, and finish this before they have any chance to strike at us.”

  Her fingers shook, and she swallowed a whimper. “I still think we can leave all this behind us. In the States, they have no power. We’ll be free.”

  A sad smile lifted the corners of his lips. “No, Mari. We won’t. Their reach extends into the States. I remember having dealings with them before—just not why. Nothing will stop them. Especially if they think you’re carrying Mateo’s baby, Juan Carlos’s next legacy. We’ll finish this here.”

  Going back meant even more risks than she was willing to share. Part of her wanted to give him his dog tags—a link to his past—and to plead with him as she did so to stay with her. But the rational side, the one who grew up in a country that chewed up its inhabitants and spit them out more often than not, didn’t want to take the chance. “I’m worried,” she whispered as she pressed against him, “that you’ll remember something in your past and no longer want me.”

  “The past is just that, the past. I don’t care who or what I was. I know what I want.” With a finger under her chin, he tilted her face so she looked at him. “I want you.”

  Now. But soon you won’t.

  Chapter 21

  Mari

  The heat. Will it ever let up? Mari cursed her cramping, aching muscles. The jungle was not to be taken lightly. Nausea took root and refused to go away. It hadn’t rained that day. The rainy season was still in full effect, so it eventually would. She wished with everything in her that the downpour would happen soon.

  She trudged behind Chris, not wanting him to see how close she was to dropping. Smirking, she fought the hysteria that badly wanted to bust free in a maniacal cackle. She walked to her doom. Nothing good would come of confronting the Ramirez cartel.

  She should know. When she was young, she hadn’t understood and had continued to open her heart up to the angry and hurting boy, Mateo. But their friendship changed as the years went by and she developed a healthy awareness of what type of people he and his family really were. Still, she was careful. Her aunt coached her to be. “Keep the enemy close,” she’d said. So Mari had. Look what it got me.

  Her gaze trained on Chris’s back, and she watched the muscles shift beneath his thin olive-green T-shirt. If she had an abundance of saliva, her mouth would have watered, but instead she was sweating all of the fluid in her body out. The only reason she’d agreed to go back, to confront the demons of her past and present, was because of Chris. He was hell bent on saving her. She saw that now.

  If she survived the last leg of the jungle, maybe they could be together.

  She stumbled over something on the ground then dropped to her knees, her hands breaking her fall. A tremor shook her, and her body gave out. Strong arms wrapped around her, stopping her from face-planting into the dirt.

  He pulled her against his solid body. “We can stop here for a little while.”

  Mari laid her head onto his chest, willing her body to rest. Over and over, he was there for her. She’d started to look at him in a new light not too long after he’d regained consciousness. Without knowing it then, she’d opened her heart to him. That, she didn’t regret—she even cherished the experience. What concerned her was that she’d deceived him about their relationship. If only what I said was real.

  They’d be out soon, just not in the direction she desperately wanted to go. Her body shifted as he pulled one of the packs off and rummaged through it. “Here, drink this,” he said, thrusting the canteen in her direction.

  That she could do. With greedy gulps, she downed as much of the sweet water as she could hold. Feeling mildly better, she passed the canteen back and snuggled back against him. Her eyelids fluttered down until his deep voice rumbled against her ear.

  “We need to eat again.” He pressed some berries into her palm.

  She shuddered. “I can’t eat. I’m too nauseous.” Sparing a glance up at him, she noted the hard set to his mouth. Her temper snapped, and she yelled, “I’m not pregnant.”

  He frowned. “I wasn’t thinking that. The nausea is from being malnourished and constantly fighting dehydration. Not to mention the pace we travel.” Gently, he took her hand, urging her to eat.

  Shit, I’m taking my frustration out on him. I’m so tired. “I’m sorry, it’s just been a long trek, and it’s getting to me.” She took one of the berries and popped it into her mouth, forcing it down. Even though her stomach cramped viciously, she made herself eat them all, refusing to throw them up. Chris pulled some dried meat out, and they ate some in silence. She could only get a little down, but the protein would help, and she understood that. A couple sips of water, and she prayed her strength would be enough for the next several hours. Sleep sounded like heaven.

  “We’ll rest here for an hour or two to regain our strength.”

  Dusting off her hands, she sucked in a breath at the speculative look on his face as he stared a hole through her.

  “But you could be pregnant. We haven’t used protection.”

  Her mouth formed an O, and she pushed on his chest, standing. Pacing, she wrung her hands. With all her other worries, she let herself get caught up in their passion. They’d been reckless.

  “Mari, don’t worry. I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s highly unlikely with the malnutrition and dehydration we’ve experienced, but the thought has crossed my mind.” He ran his hands through his short hair. “I don’t know if we ever discussed it or not, but do you want kids?”

  With you. She gave him a small nod. As long as you stay by my side.

  Chapter 22

  Mari

  Fog hung heavy, casting an eerie stillness over the jungle. While it was beautiful, it hid the dangers lurking within the vegetation, including snakes, scorpions, bacteria-infested palms, and even humans who used the thick soup to shield themselves before attacking. Soon, the sun would climb the sky and burn away the last remnants of the morning haze.<
br />
  Mari and Chris slowly picked their way through the forest, placing each step only after scanning the ground, their gazes doing a constant sweep. The swoosh of the machete as Chris cleared a trail for them vied for Mari’s attention with the sounds of rushing water. The mouth of the river neared. They’d come upon it in a matter of minutes. Through the awakening forest, they heard more than the motion of water. The distant hum of a motor buzzed.

  Their path suddenly opened up, and Chris put the blade away while she stepped around him, curious to see if she could see the water through the trees ahead. A small glimpse of the murky water was all she saw. A mixture of relief and despair washed over her.

  Chris’s hand settled on the small of her back for a brief moment, and she longed to press into his touch. With her nerves stretched taut, she took measured breaths, as they would soon cross the river and exit the Darien Gap.

  They’d already had to ditch their canoe and had no choice but to wait for the next boat—the same route she’d used to cross to the jungle—carrying brave souls who wished to challenge the Darien Gap for their freedom. She’d hoped to do the same, but instead they’d turned back, and she would have to face the grueling passage yet again if they were lucky enough to make a go for the border a second time, unless Chris had another way out.

  The tug on her belt loop had her looking over her shoulder. Chris tilted his head to the side, and she shifted, going where he directed. He pressed close to her ear, and his whispered words sent a shiver down her spine for more than one reason.

  “We’ll wait out of sight. No telling if the next boat that comes will carry cartel members or people trying to escape to the border.”

  He lowered to the ground, and she followed, scooting close to him. The heat was hell, but even that didn’t stop her from wanting to be near him. They’d face a nightmare soon. Every moment she had with him would count, especially since she didn’t know if it would be their last.

  He handed the canteen to her, and she took a long drink before giving it back. His focus stayed fixed on the riverway, so when he spoke she jumped a little, not expecting it.

  “Tell me again, how long were you in hiding, and are those places still available if we need them?”

  She battled exhaustion from the mountain they were climbing with this plan. Each step felt as if she took it backwards. For a good six months, she’d fought tooth and nail to escape. After they crossed the Gulf of Uraba, their success or demise would be determined.

  “The one closest to here is an abandoned hut on the outskirts of Turbo. It provided the perfect shelter for some time. The town doesn’t have much to offer other than a beach, a nice park, and a few restaurants and bars. We can go there to start.”

  They lay next to each other on the ground, and she was thankful for the shade that shielded them from the intense sun.

  “What about the man who took you across the river? Is there more than one?”

  His voice stayed level, his questions quiet, and she knew he was gathering intel and filing it away in that analytical mind of his.

  “I’m sure there is more than one guide. But I only saw the one guy. Oh wait, there was someone else, but he was leaving, so I didn’t deal with him.” She rubbed her forehead, briefly closing her eyes. “Maybe they do work in shifts.”

  “Is there anywhere you want to go?” He spared her a glace before returning to surveying the water and the shoreline.

  Longing lanced her heart. “Yes. I want to stop by my aunt’s home one last time. I know it’s not entirely safe. Mateo should have people watching it.” It’d been so long, and for it to be left undisturbed... It was probably foolish to hope no one had broken into the place.

  “We’ll figure it out.”

  The distant hum of the engine increased, and Mari perked up some. If they could make it to that hut, they’d have shelter and be able to eat and sleep, she hoped for at least a week. Chris was a machine. They’d be heading out after he thought she’d gotten an adequate amount of rest. One way or another, it would all be over soon, even if it didn’t end in her favor.

  Chapter 23

  Mari

  Chris and Mari waited patiently as the last passenger got off the boat that had motored to the muddy shore. Determined, desperate faces disappeared into the thick vegetation as their group stuck together in a clump of eager bodies. She huffed. They had no idea what was in store for them. The jungle housed more dangers than they’d experienced in the corrupt streets of her homeland. It was a beast all of its own.

  Seeing their intended transportation getting ready to shove off, Chris and Mari moved as one. Just as the boat inched away from the shoreline, Chris grabbed onto the ridge, and the boatman jumped a mile. It was the same man who’d brought her over, and she stifled a laugh at his reaction. No love was lost between the two.

  The gaunt face of the guide met hers. A grin, riddled with missing teeth, leered at her. With her back ramrod straight, she took a step forward. She had knives again. He’d pay this time, not her. Fingers curling around the hilt of one of the blades she’d taken from Chris, she allowed him to see the dark smile and the eager promise on her face.

  Chris’s hand clamped over hers, stopping her from freeing her blade. “You’ll give us a ride across.” The statement was directed at the boatman, dripping with authority and leaving no room to argue. The man actually shivered as he stared at Chris in confusion.

  They were lucky, and she knew it, because their wait for the boat had only been three hours long. It could have been days, with no way to summon the boat and no way to tell when the next one would cross over to the jungle.

  A familiar gleam entered the boatman’s eyes as his mouth curved back up into a sneer. He thought he held the power. Fool. Not even the breeze dared to stir. Her vision tunneled, and she waited to see who made the next move. She was ready to throw her knife if needed.

  “We’ll be taking that knife back, too.” Chris yanked the boat back and took Mari’s hand to help her climb aboard.

  Anger colored the man’s face a deep red, and he sputtered. “Why would I?” His hand covered the knife’s gold handle as he attempted to hide it from them.

  “It belongs to her.” He waited a beat as he settled himself in the boat, edging between the boatman and Mari, effectively cutting off her access to him, and vice versa.

  The man shook his head, his body tense. He gripped the throttle, his knuckles leaching of color.

  “Bartering is one thing. Swindling a lone woman while she’s in the middle of crocodile-infested waters? Nope. That’s not happening.” Chris leaned forward, his face inches from the boatman’s perspiring one. “Your choice is simple. Take us across and return the knife to her, hilt first, or I throw you from the boat and take us back myself. You can take your chances with the crocs.”

  The guide’s hand quivered before he slowly grasped the hilt of the blade that stuck out of his shoe. With narrowed eyes, Mari went on alert. Rather than risk a physical confrontation on the water, she spewed the truth that would make him want to get rid of it.

  “It belonged to Mateo Ramirez. What do you think he’ll do if he or one of his associates notices you have that, hmm?”

  A small cry escaped the man’s lips, and he thrust the end of the knife at her. Snorting, she took it from him.

  The boat reversed, and the man avoided eye contact as he steered them across in silence.

  Chris’s soft, commanding voice cut through the noise of the motor and the slap of the water as they traveled, leaving no room for argument. “You won’t say anything about us. If you do, we’ll find out, and you won’t like the consequences.”

  “I’m no fool. Between you and the Ramirez cartel, I’d be crazy to say anything. Just get off my boat and go far away when we reach the other side.”

  Her body stiffened as she took note of how Chris tensed while his gaze surveyed the approaching port. Where their thighs touched, his muscles hardened to stone. He was in warrior mode, and she knew nothing woul
d get past him.

  Pressing her hand to his arm, she looked around, needing a physical connection to him to ground her. They were back. In a matter of seconds, they’d step off the boat. It would be two against hundreds when Mateo and his father learned they were here. She had no doubt the boatman would tell someone if he thought he could make a profit.

  The boat touched the opposite shoreline, and Chris jumped out, turning to reach a hand to help Mari exit. Clasping his hand, she stepped off, her gaze staying on the boatman. Chris tugged her, and she went with him, their pace picking up. The heat was still brutal, but she was used to it by then, and it wasn’t as bad as it had been in the jungle. In the arms of the jungle, it was suffocating, the humidity oppressive, and a constant nausea plagued her, one of the side effects of the wilds that refused to be tamed.

  They passed rows of boats, curved around a bend, and she found her hand grasped in his sure one again. They crossed another dirt road, and she knew it wouldn’t be long before they came upon a small section bordering the village where she’d taken refuge. Each place had been temporary, and she dared not risk overstaying her welcome. She was lucky when she stayed there before, and she knew it. Now, with the stakes even higher, she wondered whether someone would out her once they learned that Mateo or Juan Carlos had demanded her return.

  Since she’d agreed to come back, she risked more than just her life—she gambled with Chris’s, and it ate at her very soul. The dirt road led exactly where she knew it would, and they weaved through small huts with precarious walls. Windows were cut into the structure, allowing air to flow through. No doors barred any from seeing inside. Some had cloths tied to one side that allowed for privacy, but the heat worked against the homes that would never have electricity. The village reeked of poverty, which Mari was uncomfortably familiar with, despite the money she’d been able to use for escaping. It’d come from her aunt’s lifelong stash.