That meant they needed to stand their ground and try to scare it off.
Here goes nothing.
With a sudden, unexpected, jerky spin, Xander threw his arms up into the air, waving them like a crazy person, and hissed at the jaguar perched far too close. He wanted to holler, but that would alert the narcos, so he was counting on his sudden movements to scare off the sleek predator.
Hopefully, his insane antics wouldn’t be just another bad decision to add to his collection. He had absolutely no desire to wind up as the jaguar’s breakfast.
Chapter nine
The image of Xander flapping his arms around and hissing like some strange exotic bird made Essie want to laugh. She probably would have if she wasn’t so completely terrified that they were both on the verge of being eaten alive.
When the jaguar hesitated, sinking back instead of lunging forward, she joined in the jarring antics, launching the backpack at the same time. The jaguar leaped away, jumping down to the ground, and took off into the undergrowth.
“Dios mío!” Essie laid a hand over her racing heart as relief flooded her. Then she looked over at Xander who ran a hand over his slightly pale face.
“That was too close. We need to get the hell outta here.”
“Yes, please.” She was all for leaving the jungle far behind and never stepping foot in one ever again.
“C’mon, let’s get down.”
They moved fast, carefully making their way back down to the ground.
“Good job throwing the backpack, by the way.” He scooped it up and slung it over his shoulder.
“Good job on looking like a drunk, deranged bird,” she returned, lips twitching.
“Hey, whatever works, Peaches.”
They shared a look and smiled. She liked how well they worked together. Even more so, she really liked how brave and intuitive he was. And, of course, there was the hot element he had going on. It didn’t matter how much dirt or grime covered him, that level of appeal blazed through. Like his flames were trying to lick at her very senses.
She wouldn’t mind him licking her. Not one little bit.
“We must be close to a town,” he surmised. “I don’t think those guys would be wandering around too far from civilization. They sounded too casual. No gear.”
Unless they were looking for her. Although she didn’t recognize any of them, that didn’t mean they weren’t her brother’s men. José had a veritable army at his beck and call.
“So you want to, ah, follow them?” Even though she wanted to stay as far away as possible from anyone who might possibly be associated with her brother, it made sense. They would likely lead them straight to the nearest town.
“Yeah, let’s go.”
They started hiking again, and Essie wrapped her arms around herself. Had José sent men to find her? Was he that desperate to marry her off to one of the Cardenas brothers? If he thought it would strengthen his hold on global drug trafficking, he’d do whatever it took. Even pawn off his only sister to a ruthless narco.
An unexpected sadness filled her, quickly replaced by a simmering anger. All her life, she’d seen the horrible effects caused by the Mexican drug lords and their brutal operations. Itwas so much more personal to her than the intense violence and political corruption.
It was the reason her parents died in a carbombing.
Why her brother Miguel had been gunned down and left in a ditch.
Getting Tomás out of there had been her top priority. The last thing she wanted was for him to end up like José, succumbing to the trappings of wealth and power. Fernando Lazaro had groomed him to become his second-in-command, filling his head with dreams of expanding their empire by conquering and dominating the drug trade. After Lazaro was murdered, José had eagerly embraced his new role as leader. Her older brother was beyond hope, but she and Tomás would escape. She’d make sure of it.
Eventually, the landscape around them began to change. The tropical jungle thinned out, giving way to poppy fields. So pretty, but she knew what they truly represented—addiction, war, death. They were used for opium. A staple source of the drug supply the cartels relied on, used to create heroin and fentanyl.
Mountain ranges soared in the distance. A stunning backdrop for tourists and travel brochures, the sierras provided the ideal climate for growing the opium poppies, as well as marijuana. The remote location, protected by rumor and warfare, was a perfect place to store and process the drugs.
Xander stopped and grabbed her arm. “Look,” he whispered, pointing through the trees.
The old, abandoned building peeking through the foliage looked on the verge of hitting the dust. Most likely it had been used to store the poppies. If the plot outgrew it, the owners likely built a new building rather than restore or enlarge the dilapidated structure.
