Delirium (Captive Love: Forced Proximity Standalones #4)

Chapter 28

Chapter

Twenty-Eight

SCARLETT

H elplessness wasn’t a feeling I had very often, and if I had a choice, I’d eradicate it altogether. I just wanted to fix things, to make things better.

I held Nash all night while he trembled and shook in my arms, whispering about jaguars and dreams. When I wasn’t holding Nash, I was pressing my wrist to Camp’s forehead, making sure he wasn’t too feverish, or holding my fingers to his pulse to make sure his heart was still beating. My nature wasn’t pessimistic, but I think even the most optimistic of people would say the situation we found ourselves in didn’t exactly have a positive outlook.

Rain tapped on the thin roof of the tent, the only thing keeping us out of the elements. As cozy as it was inside the tent, we eventually weren’t going to have a choice, and would have to move, rain or no rain.

I closed my eyes for a moment, entranced by the sounds around us. I could’ve been anywhere else, listening to the frogs calling good morning to each other, and a lone howler monkey crying out to its mate in a neighboring treetop.

Nash stirred in my arms, and I rubbed his shoulders lightly. “Hey,” I whispered. “You okay?”

I didn’t know why I expected any other response except, “Much better. Must have just been a bad night.”

He sat up, and I rolled my eyes. The big man wouldn’t confess to feeling sick even if he woke up to find his leg fallen off. Not that I was much better. The fever waited patiently at the edges of my consciousness, and every so often I caught a flicker of something out of the corner of my eye, things that couldn’t be real.

It was easy enough to chalk those up to being in such extreme isolation, though. Malaria or no, those things happened.

“Right. We need to get a move on.” I untucked myself from between the various bodies and crouched. “I’m going to put my boots on and wait outside for the rest of you.”

“It’s raining,” James remarked from the far side of the tent.

“Great observation, doctor. I don’t know what we’d do without your shrewd eyes.” Camp rolled back over, tossing the sleeping bag over his head.

“We don’t have time for this today.” I pressed my fingertips into my eyes, my back already hurting from standing awkwardly inside the tent. The telltale prickles of leg cramps were already beginning in my calves, and we couldn’t afford for us all to be sick in the middle of nowhere. We had to make some good progress we all got too sick to move. “There will be no fighting. You will get dressed, and take down the tent. I’ll find some breakfast, and then we’re going to hike—yes, James, in the rain, you won’t melt—and once we’re safe, I don’t care what you do to one another.”

Camp grumbled something from beneath the blankets, but I ignored him. I would just get annoyed, and that would start no one’s day off right.

Boots laced, I stepped outside the tent, the world changed overnight by the rain. Everything seemed slightly fuzzier, a little bit hazy around the edges, less crisp and clear than it’d been the day before. The fog definitely wasn’t helping things.

The cluster of trees in front of me held a bit more shelter than the rest of the small clearing we were in. That would be a good enough place to duck inside. I lifted up the hood of my thin poncho, and sprinted through the rain.

My boot immediately squelched into the mud up to my ankle, and I looked down at my foot in disgust. Guess I was hiking muddy . James wasn’t going to be happy.

The rain let up slightly under the canopy of trees, but some still trickled through as I took inventory of the camp. Luckily, packing up wouldn’t be that much of an issue and we’d be on our way. Nash had slung the bag of food up in the trees the night before, and I made quick work of the knot, bringing it down to the ground with a thud.

Building a fire was out of the question, which wasn’t great, because I didn’t love that the boys were going to be wet and cold all day when they were already feverish, but there wasn’t much I could do.

Boys . They were men. But they were my boys. Weren’t they?

I smiled down at my feet, thinking about the strange twist of fate my life had been since I’d come to the rainforest. I’d come here looking for an adventure, and I’d found one alright. Just not in the way I’d ever expected.

The tent zippered, and I looked up from my handful of protein bars to see James glaring up at the sky and cursing. I smiled to myself. Called it.

“There’s an extra poncho in my bag if you want it,” I said to him, already dropping the protein bars to dig through and find it. “Here you go!”

James held out the clear, thin poncho like it offended generations of his ancestors. “Is this what my life has come to?”

“Yes. Now put it on and stop whining.” I sifted through the protein bars. “What would you like for breakfast? I have Brownie, Chocolate Mint, Banana…”

James pulled the poncho on over his head, looking positively miserable, and the silver packages in my hand didn’t improve his mood at all. “This is my Hell. Somewhere along the way, I think I died, and I’m in Hell.”

Somehow, the poncho made James look more frightening, but I’d never tell him that. “Well, if you’re done complaining, I’ll go make sure Camp and Nash are getting ready.” I stuffed the bars into my pocket, and turned on my heel. Today wasn’t going to be a great day, but comparing it to Hell wasn’t helping either.

“Wait.” I turned around. James was reaching for me, pulling me to him tightly. Even sick, even stressed by making sure we got out of here, my body reacted to his in ways that shocked me. “I’m sorry. Just wait.”

It felt like pieces of a puzzle finally settling back together. Like everything was right in the universe for one brief moment.

He bent, kissing me deeply, fully, in the way only James ever could. Everything he did was all consuming. Nothing stood between James and what he wanted, and right now he wanted me.

He pulled back, breathing heavily.

“What was that for?” I asked. Not that I minded .

“Camp just being so sick made me realize…that…” He still gripped my shoulders, but looked over my head, past me, not wanting to make eye contact, a small remnant of the wall he built still intact.

“James. I think we’re past this. Talk to me.”

When he met my gaze, his blue eyes weren’t as icy as they normally were. They were filled with emotions I’d not seen before. He pushed his damp hair away from his face. “I just realized that if this was it, this isn’t the way I want to go out. This isn’t the way I want you to remember me.”

I shook my head, resting my hand on his cheek. “None of us are dying, James. Not today. Not for a long time.”

He rested his hand atop mine. “Let me speak. If I don’t get my thoughts out, they’ll eat me alive.”

James inhaled deeply and continued. “I don’t want to leave this world without you knowing that I love you. I’m pretty sure I loved you the moment I saw you, so confident and sure, shining more brightly than the sun. You were so perfect, and I hated you for it. I hated the feelings you were stirring up inside me. Loving you made me feel weak. Vulnerable.”

“Oh, James,” I breathed. My heart cracked under the sincerity of his voice, and the strength in his eyes—two things I’d only seen when he spoke about work thus far.

“I don’t know when I realized that loving you didn’t make me weak. Maybe it was when you were there for me in the city camp tent, when my life felt like it was falling apart. Maybe it was when I thought you were dead, taken from me. I’m not sure. But at some point, I realized I was weaker without you. Love wasn’t making me vulnerable. Not accepting it was. And I didn’t think I needed to say it out loud. I guess I figured you would just know. But all last night I lay awake wondering what would happen if something happened to me, and you didn’t know, and for the rest of eternity you’d go on and live your life without knowing how I felt about you.” He sucked in a breath. “I don’t expect you to say it back. I don’t expect anything from you, actually. I just wanted you to know how much you’ve changed me.”

“I love you, too.” I stood on my tiptoes, pressing a quick kiss to his surprised mouth. “Don’t look so shocked. It can’t be that much of a surprise.”

“I just…I guess I…” James opened and closed his mouth several times, before giving up and wrapping his arms around me, squeezing me for all he was worth. “Thank you. Thank you for not giving up on me.”

“Giving up was never an option.” I stretched out my arms as far as I could around his broad back, strong from having to carry so much emotional weight over the years, and broken for the same reason. Maybe one day, I’d be able to put him back together.

He reached beneath my chin, pulling my face up to his for another kiss. Kissing James made the world melt away, his gasps slipping between my lips, my tongue dancing with his. Nothing else existed other than this moment.

Camp and Nash found us locked in each other’s arms. Camp groaned. “Really? Again? I guess I should be grateful you at least have clothes on this time.”

“You act like it bothers you.” I laughed.

Camp’s eyes flashed with a challenge, and I knew I’d poked the bear. Before he could take another step toward me, Nash was already pulling him back to the tent. “No time to prove your masculinity. Tent first.”

It took no time at all to dismantle the camp, and then we were off, boots squishing into the mud with every step. Nash took the lead, checking his compass every now and then, but I had doubts as to how much a compass would help when we had no map. If it made him feel better, more power to him.

Hours passed, and we didn’t stop. If we got hungry, I’d reach into my pocket for a protein bar. Our progress was definitely less than it had been the day before, all of us feeling the weight of everything. I needed to do my best to ignore the trembling in my legs, finding myself oddly grateful for the rain soaking me even through my thin poncho. If I was lucky, maybe it would keep the fever at bay for another day. Either that, or it’d make it ten times worse. We were going to hope for option A, because I didn’t like the way my vision was beginning to tunnel, or the way leaves seemed to shatter into a thousand pieces when I brushed against them.

It was funny how all the things that made the rainforest beautiful turned into a soundtrack for a nightmare so quickly. The frogs were no longer singing a song, but a death march. The howling echoing in the trees was a warning, telling us to turn back before it was too late.

I turned back every so often to make sure James was still following. Camp was slower than normal, but still moving. Maybe, just maybe, everything was going to be okay. Maybe we really were stronger together.

Back in my undergrad, I’d taken an art class. Just one. I’d never been very good with my hands, but art was a credit I couldn’t get around.

I didn’t retain much from the class, with the exception of one lesson—Kintsugi, a Japanese art where they repair broken pottery by gluing them back together with lacquer and then painting it gold. Instead of broken seams everywhere, you have gold veins threading through your bowl. The chips weren’t mistakes anymore, but something beautiful.

More than once I’d thought that this must be what our hearts looked like, too, once they’d been broken once or twice. The cracks between our heartbreaks weren’t holes we needed to hide, but bits of gold shining through. Our scars were our stories. Our flaws were our treasures, meant to be valued and held close.

All those things we thought scared people off actually drew them in closer. Hadn’t that happened with all of us so far? We clung to our secrets, what we thought were our flaws, only to be accepted by the others when we revealed our true selves.

Nash turned around from the lead, checking on Camp with a smile. Even without me in the mix, these men had built friendships, relationships that made them feel seen for who they really were.

Maybe Nash was right. Even if everything on this trip had gone wrong so far, it had been worth it to bring us all together, like we were meant to be like this all along.

The universe just had a poor sense of humor to go along with it.

As if the universe could hear my thoughts, Camp stopped ahead of me. I narrowed my eyes, watching him closely. Maybe he just needed a break. “Camp?”

His only response was to fall to his knees in the mud, his face hitting the ground a second later.

Fuck . “Camp!”

I sprinted the distance between us, falling to my knees beside him. Pressing my wrist to his forehead, he was absolutely burning up. Still breathing, but his heartbeat was slow—dangerously slow. “Nash!”

I didn’t need to scream for him, because he was already there, meeting my gaze with wide eyes. “It’s going to be okay, do you hear me? Don’t lose yourself now. We’ve come this far.”

I thought he was talking to Camp, then I realized he was talking to me. “Help him. Please.” The tears were already slipping out from beneath my lashes, not that anyone could tell with the rain pouring down around us.

Firm hands pulled me up, out of the mud. James held me against him. “We’re going to get him help. I promise.”

I tried to cling to their words, but I couldn’t stop looking at Camp’s limp body, Nash still kneeling next to him taking his pulse. “I can carry him, but we’re going to have to leave some gear behind.”

I thought about my bag, filled with useless objects when it came down to it. A journal filled with impressions of real life that could never come close. A sweater I didn’t care about. My toothbrush. “Carry him. I’ll leave my bag and carry the gear bag.”

None of it mattered without him. Without all of them. It was just stuff.

Nash nodded, dropped his bags, and slung Camp over his shoulders. His strength was impressive, unwavering even when I knew how bad he was hurting.

Hopefully, he was right and we weren’t far off from a village. I couldn’t let my thoughts drift further than that, barreling down a path where nothing good happened.

I dropped my bag, swapping it for Nash’s bag of gear James took my hand.

The rain poured, and on we walked, stopping every so often to check on Camp. He didn’t wake up, but he didn’t get any worse, either. I swiped water from my eyes, hoping it would fix the blurry images in front of me, but nothing helped. I was sick, too. And we were quickly running out of time.

James clung to my hand, squeezing it every so often, a reminder that brought me back to them. People who loved me.

I just needed to remember I wasn’t alone. This was just another crack in my heart, another flaw to be filled in with gold when we were all together again.

Another work of art. Hopefully we’d still all be around to appreciate it.