Crossing my legs and leaning back, I stare out over the lush landscape. Despite how awful this weather is for my asthma, the air is so fresh this high up in the mountains, and there’s a purity to the flora and fauna that’s been lost in so many of the world’s industrialized areas.
Places like Chiapas are why I decided to study endangered species in the first place. Sitting here, listening to birdsong so loud, it almost drowns out the rushing water, I feel like my life has meaning. Like I’m making a difference.
I just hope whatever we find tomorrow doesn’t shatter that illusion completely.
Chapter Seven
Austin
Pushing myself to my physical limits helps drive my demons deep inside where they can’t hurt me—or more importantly, damage others. And if I’m going to have dinner with Mikayla tonight, those demons need to be well hidden.
Kissing her rocked me down to my toes, and I was so hard when I returned to my room, I couldn’t sit down for fifteen minutes. Now, after hiking seven miles to the ruins of an old temple, then climbing the hundred and twenty steps to the top—and back down, twice—my body feels like it’s been wrung out and left to dry in the sun.
I know how to recover, though. Electrolytes, beer, and an hour’s nap, and I’ll be able to push myself all night if I have to. And fuck, do I hope I have to. I’d love to take Mikayla into town for a proper date. I might never see her again after this week, and I have no business starting anythingseriouswith her given my current mental state, but I don’t do things halfway.
Within minutes of stretching out on the bed, I’m asleep, but peace? That’s harder to come by. In my nightmares, Gil finds me, and his taunts, his blade, his betrayal…they’re still just as fresh as they were five years ago.
“The United States government wants me dead,” he says as he drags the knife across my chest. I hang from an exposed ceiling beam, my wrists secured with a thick zip tie. Blood drips down my abs, soaking into my pants. My hands went numb hours ago. “I knew they’d send you.”
Another cut, but I don’t let myself react. Pain can be controlled. To a point. The ribs he broke when he captured me are much more concerning at the moment. Each breath is harder than the last.
“What…do you think…torturing me…will get you?” I force out through clenched teeth. “You’re a traitor, Gil. You’ll be lucky…to live…another day.”
“Oh, I think I’ll last longer than that. My father owns this country.” Gil laughs and waves the knife in front of my face. “You’ll never defeat the Loma Collectivo, Austin. When they send Trevor—and they will—I’ll make him watch as I gut you.”
I jerk awake, my hand automatically moving to the thick scar just below my ribcage. I never told Trevor, but an hour before he showed up in Venezuela to rescue me, Gil had stopped playing around and his blade had come within half an inch of piercing my liver.
Sometimes, I forget. The pain. The fear I’m not supposed to admit to anyone. The failure.
Giving up on sleep, I shower, wrap myself in a towel, and stand in front of my rucksack for way too long, trying to figure out what the hell to wear on the first date I’ve had in three years. Assuming Mik shows. For all I know, I could have scared her off.
Dr. Mikayla Salim is full of contradictions. Last night, there were moments she was bold, outgoing, funny as hell, and others, like after she touched me at the end of the evening, she almost disappeared inside a shy, demure shell. I want to know more about her. Everything about her.
Ten minutes later, three shirts laid out on my bed, I’m only half dressed when someone knocks. Shit. In my rush to see her, I don’t even grab one of the shirts before I fling the door open.
Mikayla takes a quick step back. “Oh, crap on a cracker. I’m…um…” Her gaze locks onto my chest, and her cheeks flush a dark crimson. “I can come back. When you’re not all…” she waves her hand up and down, “muscles.”
“Not all muscles? You do realize they don’t go away when I get dressed, right?” My laugh feels good.Normal. But Mikayla covers her face with her hands and groans.
“I know how muscles work,” she says, her voice muffled as she retreats. “I’ll, um, be…in my room.”
“Mikayla.” The single word stops her in her tracks, and I snag the closest shirt from the bed and shrug into it as she drops her hands and risks a second glance at me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be inappropriate. Or make you uncomfortable. I just need to button up and grab a couple of things. Come on in.”
“I can wait in the hall.” She lowers her gaze, shoulders hunched, feet cemented to the floor.
I want her in my space. Leaving her scent in my room. But she’s definitelynotbudging from that spot, so I give her a quick nod, then head for the dresser. The hotel’s old enough the doors don’t shut automatically, so I can see her start to relax slightly as I fasten the last button. “Are you up for a little adventure?”
“Adventure?” Her eyes narrow. “I thought this was just…dinner.”
Sliding my wallet into a zippered pocket inside my jacket, I offer her what I hope is a reassuring smile. “It can be. But I spent some time wandering the town a couple of days ago, and I thought if you weren’t too tired…maybe we could find a little outdoor cantina, watch the tourists go by?”
Relief softens her features. “I’d like that. I’ve only been into San Cristóbal de las Casas once, and that was to pick up a prescription refill. I need to get a jacket, though. Be right back.”
While she’s gone, I slide a folding knife into a sheath on my belt. It sits at the small of my back, easily accessible, but almost completely hidden by my blue linen shirt. This is a safe town, but I’ve been in too manysafe townsthat suddenly weren’t, and even though we’ve spent all of four hours together, I already know. Mikayla is definitely someone I want to protect. Even if only for this one night.
My phone, hotel key, and passport go in another secured pocket, and I meet Mikayla at her door when she emerges with a small cross-body bag at her hip, barely visible under her windbreaker.
“Are we walking?” she asks.
