The cave doesn’t shield us from the jungle’s steady roar. Monkeys howling, louder and worse than a thunderstorm. Frogs and owls and insects that croak, hoot, and buzz every second. None of this feels real.
I lift the hem of my tattered tunic. “You’ve never seen me in what way?”
I know what I must look like. But his words sink into my flesh like claws. Because he doesn’t mention what’s wrong with my appearance on the outside. He finds the part of me that’s broken, hidden deep.
“I’ve never seen you look so defeated.” He leans forward and taps the top of my leather boot. “Take off your shoes and socks.”
I stare down at my feet. Pain shoots up from the tips of my toes. “I’m not used to all the walking. That’s why I was limping.”
“Take them off,” he says in a harder voice.
The blisters on my fingers make it hard to untie the leather laces. My vision blurs, and no amount of blinking makes my eyesight clearer. Exhaustion drags my eyelids down. Manuel scoots closer and gently pushes my fingers away from my shoes.
“Let me do this.” He gently tugs the boots and drenched socks off, and then, with the same gentle touch, lifts my right foot onto his knee. I survey the damage through my watery gaze. Blisters mar the tops of every single toe and the bottom heel. Same on the left foot. He reaches for a bowl filled with a poultice, then brushes a thin amount onto each foot.
“You need rest,” he says grimly. “Lots of it.”
Manuel unrolls the slim bedding and gently helps me lie down on my stomach. He rubs the same mixture onto my back, peeling the fabric away with hesitant fingers. “You’re burning up.”
“I feel like I’m on fire.”
He continues running his palms across my wounded back. The medicine feels cool. I want to roll around in it naked.
“Better?”
“Sí. Gracias,” I whisper. “I still can’t believe—”
“Silencio. Descansa.”
“Don’t leave me.” My voice drops to a soft hush. “No me dejes.”
Don’t leave me like you once did, without word. Without a goodbye.
I never hear his response. My eyes shut, and I fall asleep.
CAPÍTULO
Seis
I wake to the sight of Manuel studying me. He’s propped against the curved wall, a bowl of mashed avocados in his lap. His hat is off, and I realize my head is using it as a pillow. I’m lying on my stomach, cool air brushing against my exposed back. I try to push myself up, but my arms are weak and not working properly.
“Easy,” he says softly. “You’ve been out for two days.”
My eyes widen. “¿Dos días?”
He nods once, his lips tight.
Everything comes back in an instant. Arriving to the jungle, my escorts—Rumi the vigilante—the infernal jaguar, the rock wall.
Manuel.
“Where have you been?” I ask. “Three years without word.”
He raises an eyebrow. “I sent word.”
I shut my eyes, realizing my mistake. Of course he wrote—to his mother.Never anything personal to me. Again, I tell myself, why would he? He’s probably forgotten all about the kiss. I don’t say anything; I’ve already been behaving like a besotted fool and I don’t want to pile it on.
Manuel wasn’t easy like the other boys back at the Illustrian camp. Earning smiles from them took nothing. Kisses were even easier. This scout, this ranger of the Illustrian throne, doesn’t hand out his grins to just anyone.
