Chapter 4
ALLEGRA
He knows my name. He knows my fucking name.
My hand shakes, and the man sucks air through his teeth as the blade sends another trickle of blood coursing down his neck. It snakes toward the leather band around his neck, where a large greenstone carving hangs.
If he knows my name, he’s got to be a stalker. He must have seen me in the press. But how did he know I was here?
My hand trembles at the effort of holding the knife to his throat.
He could disarm me easily, yet he doesn’t.
He dropped his weapon. But his body is his weapon.
If I drop mine, I won’t regain the advantage.
If he’s here to do me harm, this is my chance to do him harm first. I swallow hard and will my hand to stop shaking.
“My name’s Marcus Pere.” The man’s voice is low with a foreign lilt to it I can’t place. It carries no hint of concern. He’s introducing himself as if we’re at a cocktail party, and I’m not lying under him on the forest floor with a knife to his throat. “Your father sent me.”
Shock makes my hand waver, and my grip slips on the knife.
“Is he okay? Has something happened?”
The knife slips out of my hand and falls to the forest floor. My hand scrambles to find it but comes up empty.
I expect Marcus to grab the knife, but instead he sits back on his haunches and slowly raises himself to standing height.
He doesn’t seem remotely flustered by the fact that I had a blade to his throat and there’s blood trickling down his neck, as if I was never a real threat to him.
“Your father hired me to follow you and keep you safe on the trail.”
He speaks slowly and deliberately, and I note the elongated vowels that hint at an Australian accent. No, make that New Zealand if he’s wearing a greenstone around his neck. I’ve seen the carvings before.
“Of course he did.”
It’s just like my dad. To outwardly support my solo research trip while scheming to have me followed. I don’t know whether to scream or to laugh.
Marcus offers me a hand, and I stare at it. If I give him my hand, I leave myself exposed, and I still don’t know if he’s telling the truth. He could overpower me easily. While he’s not super tall, when his body was pressed against mine, it was all hard muscle.
I ignore his hand and pat the surrounding ground, feeling for my knife. It’s the only protection I brought with me, and I didn’t think I’d need it on my second night in.
I grip the cool steel and clasp it in my hand, then scramble to my feet. With my other hand, I pull my phone out of my pocket. I don’t care that it’s three in the morning. Dad owes me an explanation.
Except there’s no signal. Not a single bar.
I huff in frustration.
“I’ve got a satellite phone if you want to call your father.”
Marcus stands watching me as cool as stone.
He keeps his palms outward, showing me there are no weapons in them, but who knows what he’s hiding in his cargo pants. There are more pockets in them than in a lab coat. He could have anything hidden.
“My camp is a few feet in that direction.” He indicates a dense thicket of undergrowth. I don’t see any signs of a tent. “I’ll get the phone, and you can call your father.”
It could be a ruse to get me where he wants me. But what other options do I have? If he’s legit, Dad will confirm. If not, I’d better hope my knife and the self-defense classes Dad insisted I take as a teenager pay off.
I narrow my eyes at him. “Start moving. But keep your hands in the air.”
My voice comes out steady despite the way I’m trembling. Growing up in the spotlight taught be how to pretend, and tonight I’m pretending to be a badass even as I shake on the inside.
He starts moving, and I clasp the knife with both hands and hold it up in front of me. “I’m going to have this knife at your back ready to shove between your shoulder blades if you try anything.”
He nods once. “Understood.”
His tone is neutral, and I wonder if he knows there’s no way I could ever stab anyone.
Marcus moves slowly, stepping silently through the undergrowth. He stops a few feet away, and at first I don’t notice the tarp stretched between two small trees. It’s low to the ground, and he’s covered it with branches.
Underneath are a sleeping bag and a military-style backpack.
My skin prickles. This isn’t your average hiker setup. This is some serious military-grade stuff right here.
“This is where you’re sleeping?”
“I was. Until my sensor was tripped.”
“Sensor?” What the fuck? “You have sensors set up?”
Marcus shrugs. “My mission is to protect you. I’m doing what’s required.”
My jaw clenches. “I don’t need protection.” Especially not from some mercenary with high-tech gear, although Dad obviously thinks otherwise.
Marcus turns to face me with his hands up. “I’m going to crouch down and get the satellite phone out of my pack.”
He speaks low and steadily, and there’s something about his accent that’s reassuring. The long vowels make him sound harmless.
“You’re not going to do anything stupid with that knife, are you?”
His lips tug up at the sides, and he has the audacity to grin at me. His dark eyes twinkle, and it gives him a mischievous boy-in-trouble look, which is disarming, just as it’s supposed to be.
A foreign lilt and a cocky grin won’t fool me. I bet there are still murderers in Australia or New Zealand or wherever the heck he’s from.
I grip the knife with both hands and point it straight at his neck. “Not if you don’t do anything stupid.”
He turns and crouches slowly.
It’s dark under the trees, and I edge around, trying to keep my knife on him.
“Pull the pack out where I can see it.”
He does so and I watch him, my body tense, as he pulls a pouch out of his pack. He holds it up for me to see, all the time showing me what he’s doing, and pulls out a small black phone that looks like an older model mobile phone.
“It won’t work under the canopy. We need to go to your camp where it’s clear for the signal to get through.”
I indicate with my head for him to walk in front, and we make our way back through the forest. My hands ache from gripping the knife too tight, but I keep it in both hands and raised to aim at his back.
We come out of the clearing, and in the moonlight I get a good look at Marcus for the first time.
He’s got thick dark hair, and rough stubble coats his chin.
The golden bronze of his skin makes the chocolate color of his eyes more intense, but the intensity is juxtaposed by the smile lines around his eyes.
He’s only a few inches taller than me, but the way he carries himself indicates he’s all muscle. He doesn’t look like the usual inflated bodyguards Dad has hanging around him.
“What exactly did my father hire you to protect me from?”
Marcus cocks his head. “Bears.”
There’s the grin again. If he’s trying to win me over with humor, then it won’t work.
“He’s worried about bears. What are you going to do, tackle a bear for me?”
The smile slips off his face. “If I have to.”
He punches in a number and holds out the phone to me. I recognize Dad’s number as it starts to ring.
My gaze darts to the phone in his hand. If I take the phone, I’ll have to shift the knife to one hand. Does he know my hand’s getting tired? This could all be a ruse to get me to let down my guard.
“Hello.” My dad’s voice comes on the other end of the phone, groggy from sleep. I glare at Marcus, and he’s looking at me, leaving it to me to speak to him first.
If Marcus wanted to harm me, he would have done it by now. I transfer the knife to one hand and take the phone from Marcus.
“Dad?”
“Eggy, is that you? Is everything all right?”
Marcus smirks at the use of my nickname, and I glare at him.
“Did you send someone to follow me?”
“Ahh.” Dad lets out a sigh. “You’ve met Marcus.”
I flick a glance at Marcus, and he’s watching me, his expression unreadable.
“What the fuck, Dad?”
“Don’t swear Eggy. It’s not clever.”
Anger boils up inside me. Dad sent someone to follow me on my solo research project, and he worries about my swearing.
“I’ll swear if I damn well want.”
I sound like the spoiled brat Marcus probably thinks I am, having a temper tantrum at her dad. I glance at him, but his expression remains neutral, professional.
I step back a few feet and turn away so he can’t hear every word.
“Why, Dad? Why?”
“Eggy…” Dad tries a placating tone, but it only makes me madder.
“Don’t call me that,” I snap.
“Alright, Allegra. Be reasonable. Did you really think I’d let you go out into the wilderness on your own?”
I close my eyes and suck in a long breath. “I’m perfectly capable of hiking on my own, Dad. People do it, women do it, all the time. Haven’t you seen Wild?”
“That Reese Witherspoon movie? She didn’t exactly have an easy time.”
“That’s not the point.”
I slap my hand against my forehead, then realize I’m still holding the knife. I spin back to Marcus, and he’s watching me from a discreet distance.
“I’m not prepared to risk my only daughter in the wilderness.”
Not even my dad thinks I can do this on my own. And even to him, I’m not just anyone. I’ll always be Allegra Simpson, trust fund baby.
“Please don’t be cross with me. I’m only trying to do what’s best for you, always.”
I let out a long sigh because he’s right. Since Mom passed away, Dad’s been overprotective. I should have seen this coming. But I’m not ready to let him off the hook.
“I’m sending Marcus home.”
“I’m afraid I can’t allow that.” Dad’s voice turns from placating to firm. “He’s contracted to be with you the entire three week trip. If you’re hiking, he’s hiking with you.”
I close my eyes. Dad, of all people, should understand how much I need to do this alone. He built his business on his own.
“Just ignore him,” Dad says, as if it’s that easy to ignore a man following me for the next three weeks. “He’s ex-special forces; he’ll blend into the background.”
Special forces. That explains a lot. And it means he’ll be hard to lose.
“Or you can come back now.” There’s a hopeful note in Dad’s voice, which makes me realize he really is worried about me out here. I haven’t told Dad exactly what I’m researching. If he knew, he’d have an entire squad of special forces guys out here.
I weigh my options. Give up the research and the chance to prove myself or keep going with a thug following me.
My stubborn streak kicks in. “I’m not quitting.”
“That’s my girl.” There’s a hint of pride in my father’s voice, and it infuriates me more. He’s proud I’m here, but he doesn’t think I can do this on my own.
“I’ll see you in three weeks, Dad.”
“Can you put Marcus on.?
I hand the phone over to Marcus. I can’t hear what my dad says to him, but he nods. “Yes, sir.”
He hangs up and pockets the phone. “Looks like you’re stuck with me.”
I glare at him. If he thinks this is going to be some cozy hiking trip, I need to set him straight.
“I’d get rid of you if I could.”
He nods once. “I understand. But it’s your father I work for. If you’re hiking, I’m guarding.”
I put my hands on my hips and huff at him.
He looks back at me, his head tilted to the side and his expression relaxed as he rocks on his feet.
I try to stay angry, but it’s hard to have a standoff with someone who’s simultaneously firm and relaxed.
He’s disarming. But I cling to my thread of anger.
“There are three rules. “I hold up my hand and count them on my fingers.
“One. Stay at least ten feet behind me. I don’t want to know you’re there. I don’t want to see you.”
He nods once, waiting for the next rule.
“Two. I decide the route, not you. I don’t care how elite your military training. This is a scientific expedition, and I’m running it. And three. Don’t talk to me. Unless there’s an emergency, I don’t want to hear your voice. We’re not here to make friends.”
Marcus’s expression remains as still as the stone around us. He’s utterly unreadable. “Sounds fair enough.”
I glare at him for another moment and then I sheath my knife.
“I’m going back to bed. I don’t want to see you in the morning.”
I turn on my heel and storm off to my tent, not looking back. I don’t hear Marcus move, but I assume he does.
As I settle into my sleeping bag, I imagine Marcus settling in under his shelter. It’s both infuriating and oddly reassuring.