CHAPTER 8 GABRIELLA #2
For a heartbeat, she thought he might snap back and remind her exactly how powerless she was.
Instead, his wary gaze flicked towards the surrounding trees.
She guessed he was assessing angles, distances, and possible threats.
The traitor beneath his disguise surfaced in that moment: alert, sharp, calculating.
“I won’t leave you exposed,” he said quietly, “but I can’t trust you alone out here … especially at night.”
“And you’re any better?” she argued back.
“Better the evil you know, right? Let me clear the way for us.” His tone was patient but firm.
Without waiting for her reply, he moved ahead of her, parting the foliage with ease, careful where he placed his boots.
She followed close behind as the jungle pressed in around them—humid, loud, alive in ways that made her skin crawl.
There was a reason why she loved the ocean despite its vast, dark, hidden depths.
She could dive under and the noise would be silenced save for her heart.
It was quiet, even with the rhythmic beating of waves that occasionally broke through.
But here? Bugs buzzed near her ears, leaves whispered with unseen movement, and somewhere too close for comfort, she heard something skitter across the forest floor.
After a few yards, he stopped and turned, holding out his hand. It was an offer she knew, but it did not change the helplessness she felt.
Gabriella hesitated, pride warring with necessity. Her body chose for her. She took his hand. The contact of his warm palm sent an unwelcome jolt through her system.
He led her a short distance off the path, positioning himself with his back to her, broad shoulders blocking any line of sight. He shrugged out of his torn shirt, surprised her by splitting it in half to make a long strip, and handed it to her without looking.
“For privacy,” he said gruffly.
“You’re kidding,” she said as she took the fabric.
“Do you wanna pee exposed?”
She shook her head, not even bothering to argue at that, gripping the fabric like a lifeline. With careful scrutiny, she hung it over a lower tree branch, creating a makeshift curtain so she could hover and squat below. It provided a false sense of cover to her logical mind.
You’re more exposed than ever with your pants down like this.
Her body’s insistent need brought her back and the relief was so overwhelming that her knees nearly buckled. She made a small noise that caused Mateo to shift.
“Are you okay?”
She hummed her confirmation. “Yeah, sorry. Just … I can’t remember the last time I peed. Dehydrated too I bet.” He didn’t comment. She shifted when she was hit with a sudden realization. “Oh, no.”
“What?” he asked through the noise of the jungle.
“I-I,” she stammered. “I need to wipe.”
Mateo chuckled, the sound somehow reverberating between her legs. “Is that all?” His hand parted the makeshift veil, and he handed her something white and folded. “Here. It’s biodegradable. You’ll need to drop it in the hole I made.”
God, how much more humiliated can you be? She took it hesitantly and thanked him.
As she finished and re-dressed, the fatigue finally struck. Her hand gripped a tree branch, shaking the makeshift curtain as a gasp escaped her from a wave of dizziness. Mateo was there instantly, pushing through the barrier and catching her elbow before she could fall into the makeshift hole.
“Easy,” he murmured again. “Warn me next time you try to jump into your grave.”
Gabriella’s heart stumbled. He was all muscle, dark hair creating a Y down his chest where the trail ended right above his waistband.
She couldn’t help but outline the curves of his firm body with her gaze, her eyes slowly moving up until they met his even darker eyes as he watched her.
His lips lifted slightly. “Eyes up here, tica.”
Anger built in her chest, the heat fueling her movements despite his growing smirk getting wider by the second.
She yanked her arm free, her breathing uneven. “Don't,” she hissed.
Something challenging flickered through his brown eyes as his brow arched her way. “I wasn’t trying to do anything.” He hesitated for a moment, then lifted his hands in surrender. “Gabriella, I won’t touch you unless you tell me to. I am only trying to keep you safe.”
Does he not realize he's been touching me this entire time? She gave him a sharp look despite how fast her heart was racing. “You already have. Touched me. Multiple times.”
“Yes,” he said, meeting her gaze fully now. “And I hate that I had to. Can we call a truce? I don’t want to force you around like a prisoner. I want to get you home,” he contended.
“So you keep saying. But so far, my only evidence is being dragged deeper into the Neotropical rainforests!” she snapped.
Something fractured in his expression—gone almost as soon as it appeared.
Regret? Anger? Guilt? She couldn’t tell anymore.
Suddenly she felt guilty. She had to admit, his pleas about wanting to keep her safe had seemed genuine.
He didn’t leave her alone with José or anybody else, and he seemed upset when he had her tied up.
But it was so reminiscent of Justin, the hot and cold treatment. How could she be sure?
You said you'd stop comparing every man to him. You have to stop! She closed her eyes and found her resolve. Better to trust the devil you know, right? She repeated Mateo’s words in her head.
She opened her mouth to speak when voices echoed faintly from the direction they’d come. Spanish, clipped and urgent.
Mateo stiffened, and she saw the veins on his neck. “We’re moving back to the camp. Now.”
When he turned back towards the jungle, she noticed it—the subtle shift in his posture, the way his shoulders squared, his stride lengthened. This wasn’t the easygoing guide who had teased her about her sunburn and brought her coffee at dawn.
It only cemented what she had refused to accept. This was a man trained for war.