Chapter 9
An acrid smell stings my nose. The foul scent of burnt plastic and singed rubber hangs in the air as we approach the village.
It’s a nauseating smell that doesn’t belong here, violating the flora and fauna of the rainforest.
I scrunch my nose against the odor. “I can’t believe how bad it smells.”
“Car fires are very toxic. Paint. Plastics of all kinds. You name it.”
I shudder. “Gross. Why would anyone burn our truck?”
Beast’s hand moves from my arm to my back, causing a shiver to hit my spine. “It’s a threat.”
“Because I escaped contact with them?”
His fingers stiffen against my back. “Yes. You got away and spoiled their fun.”
That makes me want to throw up. “Do you think they’ll come back?”
“Yes.”
Ugh.
Beast glides his hand up and down on my back. “Sorry, but it’s the truth.”
That hand is big. Comforting and very powerful against me.
It’s so not smart to like this. How can I even be thinking about how good his touch feels? My truck is on fire!
I have to keep my focus, and letting Beast’s overtly sexy body seduce me isn’t in that plan.
I’m more steady on my feet, but Beast keeps his protective hand resting on my lower back all across the opening, and down the second trail. He doesn’t budge from my side.
Admittedly, it’s a nice gesture. I might even thank him if I wasn’t getting more upset by the step.
When we emerge from the trail, everyone looks our way. They search my face for my reaction. Which I’m barely able to control. I bite my lip to lock the angry roar.
God. My eyes sting with frustrated tears. Why?
Someone extinguished the fire. The rear cargo area is scorched.
“Looks like they threw something inside the cab too,” Beast remarks tersely. The inside of the cab looks charred too. There’s even bubbled paint around the passenger door.
“My day just went to hell.” I correct myself, “Deeper hell.”
After Beast excuses himself with the promise he’ll be right back, I stand staring for a long while.
Crap. Crap. Craaaaap.
If this truck is totaled, we’re going to have to fly two members of our team to our home base or rent another vehicle. Hopefully, we’ll give enough of the cargo away we won’t have to deal with that.
I’m lost in thought when Beast stalks over from where he’s been talking with his team. “Evan thinks the truck is dead.”
“Oh, my god. I was just thinking about what a hassle that’s going to be,” I grumble as I rub my temple. “This is terrible?—”
Beast reaches for me and squeezes my shoulder. “It could be worse.”
“I know, but…”
Looking at the damaged truck, he tightens his jaw. “Your team is safe, that’s all that matters.”
Evan strides over. He tips his head in my direction. “Hey, Camile. Sorry about this. The good news is those bastards didn’t hit the other truck. Looks like most of your equipment and supplies had already been unloaded from the one that got car-B-qued. I’m convinced it was just retaliation for us getting you guys away from here before they could hassle you.”
“Or a scare tactic,” Beast adds.
With my eyes narrowed, I look around, scanning the town for those damned rebels.
Beast grunts at me. “Camile, don’t even think about it.”
“Oh, I am.”
He crosses his arms and puts his broad, uncompromising wall of chest in my line of sight. “Easy, tiger.”
“Stuff it, big guy.”
His left brow goes up.
Evan snickers.
Fuming, I wave my hands around. “I’m… I’m… I might blow a gasket.”
“Take care of that, Chief,” Evan says. Then he hustles away with Beast glaring at his back.
I laugh darkly. “Smart move. It could get ugly. My head might explode.”
Beast watches me pace back and forth, cursing, scheming, until he growls at me, “Enough.”
His arms are long, because he snags me as I pass by. I try to shrug out of his hold, but he’s got a damned death grip on me.
I warn him, “You might draw back a nub.”
A flicker of amusement passes behind his cocoa eyes. Before I realize what he’s doing, he shifts closer, turning us so we’re face to face.
“Poppy. I need you to take a deep breath.”
Ugh! I bite out my reply as I try to ignore the heat from his hand on my shoulder. “You take a deep breath.”
My fury is like lava, bubbling up in my chest.Those assholes.
Beast’s scowl darkens. “Lock it down, Camile. It’s just a damned truck.”
“I get it,” I snap, “but it’s just wrong.”
He steps closer, getting in my space, and hinges forward until he’s right in my face. We’re nose to nose. “Not gonna argue with you about that. Now tell me what you need.”
The first thing that comes to mind comes out of my mouth. “A sheriff. A whole battalion of SWAT guys. And a bazooka.”
He smirks. “You’ve got a team of former SEALs at your disposal. Way better.”
“I do?”
“Mama!” a tiny voice calls.
I swing my eyes past Beast’s arm and spot a little girl, about five years old, running toward a woman. The mother is wearing tattered clothes. Her hair and skin are dirty. She’s been digging or working in the debris.
We watch together. The little girl runs to her mother and throws herself into loving arms. Tears clog up my throat.
All the steam leaks out of me. My voice is tight with emotion. “You’re right. The truck doesn’t matter.”
My anger is replaced with determination. “I need to get to work.”
Beast gives me one more shoulder squeeze. “Good girl.”
Why does his approval feel so good?
I duck out of his hold—this time he lets me go—and try to organize my plan.
First, ignore the shivers he causes inside of my tummy.
Second, get this place together. Everywhere around us are boxes and crates. Beast follows me as I walk through the things that had been unloaded from the truck before the fire.
I tug on the packing tape holding one box lid closed.
Beast gently pushes me aside. “Here, let me.” He flicks his wrist, opening a pocketknife.
“Thanks. I should carry one.”
“I have another. You can use this one.” Without hesitation, after he’s cut the box, he closes the small knife and passes it to me.
I blink at it. It’s scratched up, and the edges of the silver metal handle are a little battered. He’s used it a lot. “Are you sure?”
“I wouldn’t have said so if I wasn’t. Just don’t stab me with it. Now, what’s next?”
I’m sure my expression is funny.
I’m both puzzled and touched. This man just gave me his personal knife. Where I’m from, men have strong emotions about their pocketknives.
I can’t decide what this means right now.
Nothing! He just doesn’t want to keep opening boxes for you, a little voice in my head screams.
I give myself a shake and slide the knife into my front pocket. “Belle has a list of to-do items. We need to get our computers set up. We need the solar generator set out so it can charge. We need tables, and chairs, and those whiteboards need to be arranged in the back of the tent.”
Beast whistles and circles his hand in the air. “Guys, listen up. I need you.”
His team rallies up fast. In thirty seconds, I’m surrounded by a wall of badasses. They have matching grim expressions.
Evan seems to be Beast’s right-hand man, or at least the more talkative of the bunch. “Scout’s out chasing down a lead.”
“Okay, the rest of you will help get this place together. One hour. Then you’re on our case. Belle has a list of things to do.”
They reply in unison, “Copy that.”
Beast nods. “Get to it.”
The men disperse and dive into the chaos of FamFind pallets, cardboard boxes, plastic totes, and Pelican cases.
I look over my shoulder at him, a little astounded. “Just like that, you’re going to help us?”
“Guess my true colors are showing.”
I turn and take a long look at him. A SEAL. An honorable man. Protecting me. Helping me.
An uneasy feeling hits my bones.
I’ve never had that. This is unfamiliar waters. Don’t know how to take that kind of help.
It’s not smart to let the feeling settle.
He catches my unease and narrows his eyes. “We’re teaming up, right?”
We are?
I blink at him and pinch my brows together. “You inserting yourself into my life is teaming up?”
“You’re gonna help us look for someone.”
This is news. “Who?”
“A missing person.”
A chill hits my spine. FamFind helps people in disasters, but I have a feeling he and his men are here for reasons that go beyond the earthquake.
“How long has this person been gone?”
His expression turns even more grim. Beast has three modes. Unreadable. Grim. Grimmer.
He says, “Last time she checked in with her family was five days ago. According to her father, that”s not like her.”
“She was here in Santa Rosa?”
As if he’s deciding what he can tell me, he pauses. Once he’s made up his mind, he gives me a vague answer. “Working nearby.”
Working. That’s interesting.
I let myself look out across the crumbled buildings with a different mindset. Regardless of her reason for being here, the earthquake could mean she’s injured, or worse.
I can only whisper now. “That’s not good.”
“Not good for a lot of people.”
We share a stone-silent moment as we watch one of the earthquake teams digging at what looks like the crumbled remains of a stone house.
The chill in my bones turns to a deep ache. My job is important. I’m needed here. I can’t let today shake me.
Beast exhales hard next to me. “Do your thing and get set up. I’ll keep an eye out for trouble. You’re safe. Once you’re up and running, we’ll go over my case.”
Why does it feel so good that he wants my help?
“Copy that.”
Beast looks at me for a beat. He grumbles and a displeased expression crosses his angular face. “Damn. You’re something.”
He’s still muttering under his breath when he moves away from me, but I can’t hear what he’s saying.