Page 8 of Last Destination

Right. My impulsivity could cause me to become a second Vanessa.

What on earth was wrong with me?

Marley’s concerned stare melted into diligent consideration. She looked past Tessa carefully layering the trees like Marley had demonstrated days before, turning her attention back to Ambrose.

“Ambrose, when that’s full, pour it into the Purdue mug immediately. We only have two steel containers to boil it in, but we’ll use them to fill the rest of the bottles. I’ll tie the cups at the bottom, so we can capture any rainwater overnight.”

My mortification dissipated slightly, replaced by awe for the beauty who, through some miracle, returned my feelings.

How did I land such an intelligent woman? My goddess was the one reason we’d made it past the second day, let alone had any chance of making it through the next week. I was an idiot. I poured the full, clear cup into the waiting steel bottle. Then on instinct, I bent over her, placing a gentle kiss on her temple.

She peered up at me through dark lashes and tired eyes, but they held a warmth for me I’d never witnessed before today, even after my egregious indiscretion. I craved that gaze like I craved air, like I craved vodka.

My little, beautiful obsession.

“What was that for?” Rose red crept across her cheeks in the adorable pattern I was starting to know all too well. Dropping my voice, I breathed into her ear, an unbidden confession tumbling from my lips.

“For simply existing, baby girl. Thank you for your grace. My world is so much better with you in it.”

The pinkish hue blossomed to crimson, and her lips quirked into the most delicate smile, shattering my heart into a thousand pieces. My feelings for her were dangerous: a devastating weakness and a fortifying strength. Seeing past a week at a time had never been my forte. I was now imagining weeks, no, years, with this woman.

Resuming my post at the water station, I halted visions of the future and poured river water while Jamie held the cup, unconvinced of my self-restraint after my lapse in judgment.

Marley returned to her task, layering the bark she’d carved out as dry kindling before setting it on fire with our sole source of flame. The wood sputtered and smoked, but my relief washed over me when yellow sparks flickered between the kindling.

We had fire, we had water, and we had shelter. After a day only fit to be included in Dante’s Inferno, we had some semblance of survival within our grasp.

Once the remainder of the water had been cleaned through the filters and poured into the steel bottles, we gathered around the small smoldering fire like an errant band of thieves in the night.

Ambrose handed each of us a banana he’d presumably picked, and we ate our respective suppers in silence. Jamie ate his on the other side of Madman, several feet away from the rest of us. His demeanor reminded me of a wounded animal. What had happened between them?

One look at our killer friend, who timed his boot-shaking glare toward Jamie perfectly, was enough to understand. Jamie had a very visceral fear of him, which hopefully meant he’d behave for the remainder of the trip.

I hadn’t yet spoken to the man I’d called my friend. I didn’t yet have the words to describe the way his betrayal had burrowed beneath my skin like a parasite. He’d used me and Marley. He’d gambled his own money and our livelihoods, as if we were expendable chattel to his whims.

A baron’s son was used to being a pawn, but I never expected this treatment from him.

As if sensing my internal struggle, Jaime slowly stood from his seat and sidled up beside me. He stunk of jungle mud and human skin left too long in the sun. His words were low, muffled and warring with the crackle of the fire.

“Desperation is a fickle creature, Nik.” Jamie’s Aussie accent washed over me, so familiar and so foreign now. “When that carrot is dangled in front of you, it’s really hard to say no. I don’t blame you for giving in. I did the same.” His breath came through his lips in an explosive burst of air, as if the words were his last confession to clergy.

The scorching blanket of shame hung across my shoulders became anger before he could say another word. I stood, my fists clenched, and scowled down at him, aware we were now the center of attention.

“Don’t make the grave mistake of believing we are the same, Jamie. It was a rash, impulsive decision that I am deeply sorry for, but nothing the likes of your actions. Nothing.”

“Nikki, I’m sorry.” He choked out the words. “I panicked, and I made a stupid decision.” He hung his head, his stare landing on the fiddling hands in his lap. “You’re my friend. I never meant to hurt you.” When his gaze landed back on mine, bloodshot and helpless, I swallowed the brimming bile at the back of my tongue. “I-I made mistakes, but I need to get out of here to see my family again. I’m-I’m just a man, Nik.”

I hardened my stare, conveying exactly how I felt about his betrayal and his cowardice. I had family I left behind, too. A sister I had been just getting to know again, who likely believed I was now a ghost.

“As am I. And if you want my forgiveness — if it’s even possible — you’ll have to earn it. Help get us out of here. Testify — make things right, Jamie.”

I left him, choosing a seat next to Marley. Silence filled the void as we finished our meager meal, and my stomach cramped with the few sips of water I was given once it had been fully boiled and cooled.

Nightfall felt like a heavy blanket in the middle of the trees, far more so than in the open plain of the riverbed. The ominous shadows cast by the fire’s glow felt omniscient, watching us like the hundreds of eyes beyond our tiny bastion of temporary safety.

“Let’s discuss our plan in the morning,” Marley said once the night sky overhead had darkened, peppered full of stars, and the cacophony of jungle insects and nocturnal beasts echoed against the trees. “It’s been one hell of a day. We all need sleep.”

“I’ll tend to the fire for now.” Tessa spoke the words into the flames, her voice a low monotone, laced with the dull edges of pain.