7
They setoff at a brisk pace through the jungle, the landscape an endless green sideshow of giant ferns, moss-covered trunks, and creepy crawly things that slithered across the damp floor.
They walked forever, until the tiny rays of sunlight that dared to break through the thick undergrowth and overhead faded as the sun began its downward journey. The thought of being stuck out here at nighttime terrified her. She watched enough National Geographic to know predators could sense blood from miles away, and they would be coming for them. There was no way Reaper could keep up this pace throughout the night, and there was no way she could manage it either. If they didn’t find shelter in the city, they’d find themselves in another death trap, only this one was guaranteed to have sharp claws and fangs.
Her last few attempts at conversation had been cut short. Reaper was closing himself off from her to the point that she almost felt like he was a stranger. She kept telling herself that he was focused on saving her life, but a niggling worry had taken hold of her mind like a leech stuck to her skin, constantly whispering that he really didn’t want to be anywhere near her.
Still, he’d held her hand the whole time, and he’d tried to soothe her through her minor breakdown earlier . . . Those weren’t the actions of a man who couldn’t stand being around a woman. She needed to accept what he said at face value. He was concentrating on survival, not her feelings.
Caroline stepped on something sharp. She grabbed her foot. “Ow!”
Reaper went to a knee before she could blink and palmed her heel. “Put your hands on my shoulders and let me look.”
She did as he commanded, absorbing his gesture as reassurance that he really did care about her well-being. She already knew she’d cut her foot, her fresh blood had mingled with the dried stains Reaper’s blood had left on her hand. Careful not to get too close to his injury, she put one hand on his non-injured shoulder and balanced herself.
“It broke the skin,” he said
“It doesn’t hurt that bad.” It hurt like a bitch, but she sure as hell wouldn’t tell him that.
“We need to disinfect it. There are all kinds of bacteria crawling around out here.”
His last statement caused her to gape at him. Was he serious? “You’re worried about a little bitty scratch on my foot when you have a gaping hole in your chest?”
He frowned up at her, but she wasn’t the least bit intimidated by his foreboding expression. She’d figured him out—he was the grouchy bear with a thorn in his paw. Just like her father.
“I’m not as important as you are. If your blood gets infected, it could kill you or worse.”
“Oh dear, I forgot my shoes back at the evil laboratory.” She was trying to lighten his mood a little, but apparently Reaper didn’t get sarcasm.
“They let you have shoes?”
Caroline rolled her eyes, “Of course not. They didn’t even let me have real clothes.” She gestured to her now filthy and stained hospital gown. They’d treated her like a prisoner, giving her only what they needed to keep her healthy enough to keep supplying their demand.
“You can’t keep on like this. There’s too much risk. Here, take my hand.” Still on one knee, Reaper presented her with his broad, muscular back and held a hand over his shoulder.
“Are you crazy? You can’t carry me!”
“I can and I will.” He emphasized what he wanted her to do with a shake of his hand.
Caroline crossed her arms over her less than generous bosom. There was no way in hell she was going to let him take on her added weight. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he was hurting. “No.”
Reaper was on his feet and facing her in the next minute. “This isn’t going to work if you don’t do as I say.”
“This isn’t going to work if you die in the jungle,” she replied, mimicking his tone.
She instantly wished she would’ve kept her mouth shut because Reaper’s obsidian eyes narrowed threateningly. “I am the expert here. I saved your life. I’m the only one who can get us out of this jungle.”
Everything he said was absolutely true. “I’m still not climbing onto your back.”
“I could make you,” he said.
She nodded, “That’s true. But I can also make your life a living hell.”
He snorted, “Too late for that.”
Had he just cracked a joke? She really couldn’t tell. His expression was exactly the same as it had been the moment she first laid eyes on him: about as readable as a blank wall.
“Look, I’m not riding on your back. End of discussion. You’re wasting time arguing over a scratch when we should be running. God knows how much longer it’s gonna take us to get out of this place.” She waved a hand in the air, gesturing to her surroundings. “And you and I both know that no matter how big and tough you are, you won’t survive that gunshot wound stuck out here.”
