Delirium (Captive Love: Forced Proximity Standalones #4)

Chapter 5

Chapter

Five

SCARLETT

I held my breath, waiting for the explanation Camp would offer us. I knew Nash and I were on the same page, and could easily overrule James, but James had a weird pull over Nash. I wasn’t sure what had gone on behind the scenes. All I knew was, if Camp’s explanation was flimsy, and James wanted him off the boat, it wouldn’t take much for Nash to jump sides.

It could’ve been something as simple as money, but some inexplicable itch in the back of my brain didn’t quite fit. It couldn’t have been as simple as cold, hard cash. James had to have something more over Nash. But what…

Camp opened his mouth, closed it, and licked his lips—the first nervous habit I had seen from him. He didn’t necessarily have a powerful aura about him, but he seemed to be in control of his situation, in control of himself.

It was a curious contradiction, really. I wondered if he even knew the divergence in his personality, compared to the countless behaviors I had studied.

“I’m not sure I can say anything that isn’t going to make James want to crucify me further,” Camp began. He met my eyes, blue like my own, like James’, but so much deeper, like the earth spiraling in space. “Yes, I tampered with a pipeline. I imploded it with a bomb of my own creation. But no one was hurt, and I was very careful to leave as little impact on the environment as possible. Is trying to save the world really a reason to let me rot in prison for the rest of my life?”

James scoffed. “I don’t think it’s going to be the rest of your life. And just because no one was physically hurt doesn’t mean livelihoods weren’t harmed. Did you ever think about that?”

“I did.” Camp pulled himself up higher, straightening his back. “I weighed the pros and cons carefully. I decided I’d rather leave a world my kids will actually be able to survive in, rather than stuff another rich man’s pockets with money.”

Even if I hadn’t already been on his side, what he said made sense. And he was right. He made too much sense to let him waste his life in prison.

“I don’t think we should turn him over to the authorities,” I said.

Camp nodded in my direction gratefully.

James' eyes widened, but before he could speak, I cut him off. “Nash, what do you think?”

I needed Nash on my side before James made his opinion apparent.

Nash crossed his arms, running a keen eye over Camp. “I think you’re right.” He held up a hand to James, right as he began to splutter. “I understand your concerns, but it will not be an issue. At the end of the day, whatever he did does not affect you, or the rest of our timeline. I will not be forced into being the executioner on my own boat.”

“Fine,” James spat. “I can see when I’m overruled. We let the criminal go, and everyone is happy. Can we drop him off now, and get on with it then?”

Camp visibly relaxed, losing several inches as he slumped into himself. I smiled, until a thought occurred to me. “Wait. Do you have anywhere to go?”

“Don’t start this,” James muttered.

Camp ignored him and shrugged. “Not really. I was just going to keep a low profile until I could get back home, but I’m not sure how much of my face the security guard saw. It’s cool though. I came prepared to hang out for a bit. Lots of ready-to-eat meals and shit like that.”

I chewed the inside of my cheek, knowing whatever I said next was going to piss James off even more. Did I care? I hadn’t come here to make friends. I came here to learn about people. Study the culture. Still, I turned away from him before I spoke, addressing Nash alone. “I think we should let him stay with us. On the boat. There’s more than enough room for all of us, and by the time we make it back upriver, it’ll be safe for him to travel home.”

“What!” James’ anger was palpable, even without me looking at him. “That is the craziest?—“

Nash’s gaze flickered over to James, carrying the slightest hint of what looked like apprehension. “Are you sure you’re comfortable with him staying on board? I don’t have any ID or any background on him like I normally get for all my guests.”

I raised my eyebrow, giving Camp a once over. “I mean, if he was willing enough to confess to any kind of crime, I’d like to think he’d have no issues telling us anything else. Right?”

“What kind of fucked up logic—" James spluttered harder.

Camp raised his hands in the air. “Just the one bomb, I swear. I’d never hurt a person. Do you want my passport? I think I have it somewhere in here. Hold on…” He rifled through his hiking backpack, rumpled clothes and silver packages of ready-to-eat food spilling everywhere. Obviously, organization was not his strong suit.

Nash held his hand up. “It’s fine, Camp. You’re good. You can stay. You’re stuck with us until the next dock, though. I’m the last boat out here before the rainy season. There’s only one last stop.”

The trees overhead rustled in the nearly non-existent breeze, merely blowing more stagnant air around our faces.

“No, really. I don’t want anyone—" the word dripped with venom, “—thinking I have something more to hide.” He thrust a crumpled passport in Nash’s direction. “Take a look. Couldn’t get on the plane without it.”

Nash took the passport, giving it a cursory once over. “You’re fine, man. Just don’t get in the way, don’t piss anyone off, and we’re good. I’m sure you’ll find some way to help out along the way. There’s not a whole lot of rules on board. Keep your space clean, don’t be stupid. Your cellphone won’t work out here, so hopefully that’s not an issue for you. See that bell right there?” He pointed to a rusty, golden bell I hadn’t noticed before, hanging next to the wheelhouse. “I’ll only ring the bell if I need everyone on deck immediately. Other than that, make yourself at home.”

“Thanks.” Camp reached to take his passport back, but before he could, James snatched it out of Nash’s hand.

“Campbell Alexander Hart. That’s a mouthful of a name for someone like you , don’t you think?” James sneered.

I didn’t like James’ attitude. At all. Who was he to decide who was worthy of a name or not? Just because he had different experiences didn’t make him lesser than us. “Maybe you should worry more about yourself, and less about Camp,” I snapped. “Because you seem to care a little too much about something that has no bearing on you .”

James smiled, but it didn’t meet his eyes. A perfunctory smile if I’d ever seen one. It matched the icy tones of his hair and calculating countenance perfectly. Cold, that’s what he was. Cold from the inside out. Whatever I’d seen in him before, a moment of softness or warmth, I must have been mistaken, or it was all just an act. There was no way this man in front of me could ever be warm, even standing in front of the gates of Hell.

“Fine. I’ll drop it. But don’t come crying to me when you start to find your belongings missing. After all, you’re the one who invited a criminal on board.” He dropped Camp’s passport into my hand, turning on his heel toward the cabins. A moment later, a door slammed, rattling the wooden floor of Carpe Diem .

I shook my head and gave Camp back his passport. “I’m sorry about all that. He had no reason to be such a dick.”

Camp shrugged and stuffed the passport back into his messy bag. “It’s not like I was much better. I don’t belong here. I haven’t paid. And I don’t know any of you. He’s not wrong. He’s just blunt.”

“Blunt is a nice word for it.”

“Thanks for letting me stay, man. I appreciate it.” He gave Nash a quick nod. “Are you sure you have enough space for me?”

“Absolutely. Carpe Diem has fit far more than just us four before, and I’m sure she will again!” Nash’s voice was filled with pride for his rundown little boat. “Grab the cabin across from the one James just went into. I already stowed Scarlett’s stuff in the other room. Yours has blue bedding.”

“Cool. I’m going to take a couple minutes. I’ll catch up with you later.” His blue eyes lingered down on me for a moment too long, long enough for me to wonder if the tingling I felt in the tips of my toes was imagined or real. Or… shared.

Camp was young. Younger than I would ever probably go for in the real world. But there was something special about the way he looked at me, like I was a puzzle he was struggling to figure out. In a strange way, I enjoyed being the one under the microscope for once.

With Camp gone, Nash and I were left alone on the deck. I wandered over toward the railing, pressing my back into it so I could look at Nash.

“Thanks for your help back there. I appreciate it. I know James isn’t happy so…thanks.”

Nash smiled. “I told you I wasn’t one to play executioner and I meant it. James has a temper on him, for sure, but it’s nothing I can’t deal with.”

I cocked my head to the side. “You speak of him like you know him well.”

“Yes and no.” Nash hesitated. “We knew each other when we were far younger. Kids, really. So I know how he used to be. Not how he is today. A lot of years have passed in between, and I know I’m far different than the boy he used to know. I can’t expect him to stay the same either, now can I?”

It made perfect sense. I wasn’t sure why I hadn’t seen the familiarity before. “I have a different question, though. An old lady at the market told me about the lost city. She was nervous we were going near it. The research I could find on it was vague at best.”

Nash laughed. “Yeah, a lot of the locals are nervous about it. No one’s been able to find it in a hundred years though, so I think we’re safe.”

“Do they really think it’s cursed or something?”

“They do.” He nodded seriously, leaning in like he was telling a ghost story. “Apparently the city was attacked, centuries ago. Individually, the people couldn’t fight back, but the city as a whole could. The city passed laws to protect themselves. Now anyone who enters the perimeter is cursed for eternity.”

“Cursed.” The word felt weird in my mouth. “Do you believe that?”

Nash shrugged. “Not really, but weirder things have happened. They never exactly explain what the curse is, either. I’m assuming it’s a bad one.”

Was there such a thing as a good curse?

I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could ask anything else, Nash grabbed my arm.

“Scarlett! Watch out!” Nash jerked me forward until I fell into his broad chest. “Jesus. That was too close for my liking. Did you not hear it?”

I shook my head, still spinning from the fall. Nash’s chest felt nice under my hands, warm and firm. It felt like home. It’d been a while since I felt that. I wonder what he’d do if I rested my head on him… “Hear what?”

“That!” He pointed toward the edge of the boat where I’d stood only moments earlier, where the trees did their best to reach into the boat, as if to pull us further into their dark clutches, absorbing us until there’d be nothing but the river once more.

I squinted. “The trees? I’m sorry. I don’t see the issue. I’ll pay more attention next time.”

“No. Look closer.”

I saw it then. Wound along the branch dangling inches from my shoulder was a small snake, pale green. It poked its head up, as if it knew we were speaking about it, a tiny pink tongue darting out.

“I didn’t hear anything,” I whispered. I hadn’t felt anything either. How could I not sense an entire creature only a breath away from me? “Is it poisonous?”

I should have pulled away from him. I should have taken a step away, maybe even two. Put distance between me and the snake, and distance between myself and Nash’s warm chest that reminded me of a home I never had. But Nash made no move to step away either, his hand still resting on my arm. If I held my breath, I could have heard the steady beat of his heart beneath my cheek.

Space would have been the best course of action for all involved, but I never could have made myself take that step.

“Venomous,” Nash corrected automatically. He looked down at me, dark eyes like melted chocolate, warm and comforting. Was it possible to drown in chocolate? “Poisonous is when it’s toxic if you ingest it. Venomous is toxic when it bites you. And yes, she’s venomous. Green jararaca.”

I nodded, filing the information away for later. “Deadly?”

He shook his head. “Her bite would hurt like hell, but it likely wouldn’t kill you. Don’t worry, though. There’s lots of other things here that would love to do those honors.” He laughed.

I stared at him wide-eyed, unable to join two words to form a sentence. How did you reply to someone assuming your imminent death?

Nash stopped laughing when he saw my expression, brushing a stray lock of hair away from my face, so casually, as if he did so all the time. “I’m kidding, darling. Don’t get me wrong. There’s a lot of dangerous things out here. They’re usually the prettiest, too. So long as you stay away from the pretty things, you’ll be fine.”

I smiled, but it felt weak on my face. “Is that how you’ve survived here for so long?”

He froze, his fingertips barely touching my skin, yet burning me alive. “Luck might be the better answer. I always did have trouble staying away from beautiful things. Especially the dangerous ones.”

“Oh,” I whispered. There was an undercurrent of something brewing between us, of words not spoken, and steps not taken. A thread weaving between us, a deeper understanding between two people who knew each other far better than they should for only just meeting.

A whisper.

A breath.

A heartbeat.

A stolen glance across the room, eyes meeting in a flash and knowing their innermost secrets in a single snapshot.

But Nash was right. The most beautiful things were the most dangerous.