Chapter 5
Amy held tight to the mosquito netting, wishing she had some idea of when Knox might return. All kinds of awful scenarios ran through her mind as to where he’d gone. None of which ended in her surviving this hell. Worse yet, seeing him again awakened feelings that had been dead too long. What were the odds her first crush would set the bar for everyone else?
The first time she’d seen him when they’d moved next door to him and his father, something stirred. A knowing? A familiarity? A sense this was the person she was supposed to spend the rest of her life with?
Whatever had happened to her—true love?—the opposite happened to him. He’d wanted nothing to do with her. In fact, most of the time, he hadn’t wanted her in the same room. The most embarrassing part was how easy her body slipped right back into those feelings she’d had years ago. His? He was here out of…what? Compassion? Obligation?
It would be just like Knox to make a promise to Garrett that he would watch over her. The two had been together, side by side from witness accounts, when her brother had died. Her mother had held off on the celebration of life service until Knox was released from the hospital. But he’d refused her calls. They’d had no choice but to move forward without him.
Why?
Why hadn’t Knox taken her mother’s calls? Why hadn’t he reached out to Amy? Why hadn’t he shown at the remembrance?
A noise to her left caught her attention. She listened to every insect or animal sound, especially monkey calls, trying to pick up on any difference. Now that she knew hunters in local tribes used those sounds as a means of communication, she picked out nuance. The false alarms were racking up, but out here, it was better to be safe than sorry. Sorry meant ending up face down with half a dozen or more holes in her body.
She involuntarily shivered at the mental image. No sign of Knox.
The thick, humid air was like breathing soup, which made her all kinds of claustrophobic.
Lorna was still sleeping, curled up against Amy. If she moved, Lorna might wake.
As much as Amy wanted to punch Donnie should she ever see him again, her heart went out to Lorna. Was she still pissed about being tricked into this trip? Absolutely. Would the trust she had in her friend be lost? You bet. Could it be recovered? That was a question for another day—a day Amy hoped to be alive to decide how to move forward with their friendship, if at all.
It might not be Lorna’s fault Donnie pulled a jerk move, but her friend put Amy in this position in the first place. Though she had held Lorna’s hair back while she threw up at base camp. The sickness had been real. Right?
Now that Knox had questioned everything, Amy’s mind was working overtime to figure out if he might have been right to ask. How else would Lorna have looked so bad?
An obvious answer popped into Amy’s thoughts. Pills. There were pills nowadays for just about anything. Was there one that would make someone sick? It would explain why Donnie hadn’t seemed overly concerned about his girlfriend. Was he in on the rouse? The mastermind behind it?
Maybe it was the friendship bond talking, but Amy didn’t want to believe Lorna could do such a terrible thing to her. They’d been friends for too many years, since freshman year of college. They’d stayed in touch once Amy dropped out. She’d spent a couple of years traveling around the state, trying to find her path while believing there wasn’t a place she fit.
She’d been a waitress in a diner in Austin, a coordinator at an events company in Dallas, and parleyed her last job into a tour on the rodeo circuit out of Mesquite, where she became crew.
In no job did she ever find herself. Not until she started making films with her camera, realized she was not only good at it but loved doing it, and discovered what she was meant to do with her life.
She’d also learned the hard way that jobs paid the bills. A calling or a career in film, not so much. At least, not in the beginning.
Once she’d figured herself out, she came back home to the Houston suburb and set about figuring out how to make documentary films a paying job, not just a passion project.
Strangely enough, being here in the jungle with her life on the line, she’d never felt more alive. Was it the near-constant reminder life could be taken at any moment? Or, for the second time in a little more than a year, realizing how truly fragile life could be?
Thinking in those terms had her wanting to seize more life while she still could. She was never going to be this young again. Though, at thirty-one, she wasn’t a kid anymore. The ticking clock pull to have a child hadn’t started yet like it had with others her age. Was she broken?
Did she need children?
Amy had never seen herself as a mother. She wasn’t one of those girls who played with dolls, cradling them as she envisioned herself in a wedding dress someday. She wasn’t one of those little girls who’d had dozens of Barbie dolls stacked everywhere. It was probably due to having a tough-as-nails older brother like Garrett, but she’d ridden her bike as transportation and followed him into the woods on adventures.
He would give her hell, but his smile always gave him away. He’d been proud of her. It had meant the world to her.
She credited him with her independent streak, but that might just be a Hunt family trait instead of something he’d instilled in her. Garrett was an encourager, though. And he believed Amy could do anything she set her mind to. Which also made him worry during her lost years, as her mother had dubbed them.
If only he was here now so she could tell him that she loved him one more time. If only she could tell him how much she respected him. If only she could tell her big brother that he’d been the best role model a girl could ask for. Tough. Honest. But always with that hint of pride in his eyes when he spoke about her, even when he was giving her hell.
It was probably a strange notion to think she couldn’t afford to waste water on tears when they threatened. Moisture gathered in her eyes anyway. She blinked them away. Dehydration kept them to a minimum anyway.
Out of what felt like nowhere, Knox slipped into the makeshift camp as Lorna stretched. Someone followed closely behind Knox. The larger man’s frame blocking her view.
Based on the look on Knox’s face, she could venture a guess as to who he was bringing back. Amy took her friend’s hand and squeezed. At least one person would be happy to see the person Knox brought back with him.
Lorna’s eyes opened, she looked momentarily confused, and then her gaze shifted to Knox and his guest. She gasped. “Donnie.”
The woman scrambled out of the hammock so fast she almost tipped it over and dumped Amy onto the ground. Arms and legs splayed, Amy kept balance as Lorna practically dove at Donnie once she was free.
He caught her and held her tight. A lump formed in Amy’s throat. Maybe what they had was the real thing. In Amy’s opinion, Lorna could do better, but who was she to judge, considering her own nonexistent dating life?
At this point in her life, career took center stage. Being here with her life hanging in the balance changed all that to one simple act…live to see another day.
“How did you…?” Lorna’s gaze bounced from Donnie to Knox and back.
“This dude showed up and knew who I was,” Donnie supplied, wiping mud from his face. “I didn’t even see him coming. He was suddenly there beside me, and then I was eating mud.”
Lorna shot a look at Knox, who replied, “I had to disarm him first. He didn’t know who I was and I didn’t have the patience to be stabbed, should he decide to fight first and ask questions later.”
His response seemed to pacify Lorna. Although, she didn’t look thrilled.
Too bad. She wasn’t in a position to judge the actions Knox took, which, by the way, seemed completely logical to Amy.
And another thing, for someone who’d been lost in the jungle longer than Amy, Donnie looked surprisingly hydrated and rested.
With the awkwardness of a fish on shore, trying to get back to the sea, Amy forced her way out of the hammock. She walked over to Donnie. “What the hell happened to you?”
Donnie shrugged but a look of guilt washed over his features. “I shouted for you to follow me, but when I finally stopped, you were nowhere to be found.”
“So, you didn’t see the pair of men with guns chasing me when you split off?” Amy asked with a little more heat in her voice than intended. There were plenty of sounds in the jungle to have muffled his voice but his explanation didn’t ring true. An excuse? He’d had time to practice. Was that what he planned to tell Lorna when he showed up at base camp without her best friend?
“I’m just happy both of you survived,” Lorna interjected before Donnie could muster another response.
He turned to Knox.
“Any chance you have any food?” he asked.
“We’ll be back to base camp by nightfall.” Knox checked his watch, annoyed. “We should pack up and head that way to take advantage of what little light we have.”
Growing up in Texas, Amy believed she’d seen it all when it came to weather. Starting off the day with eighty-five-degree temps before a storm rolled in dropping temps forty degrees in a matter of an hour or so? Check. Waking up to dark gray, rolling, ominous clouds that blew in every possible allergen from the west to end up sunbathing by noon? Yes.
Folks said if you don’t like Texas weather, stick around five minutes…it’ll change. They had no clue how drastic weather could be.
The jungle could be filled with noises so loud she felt like she was in a crowded stadium with a popular rock band on stage, blaring music. And then there’d be nothing but the sounds of driving rain.
At this point, though, Amy wished for a hot shower and clean, dry clothes. A toothbrush would be the most incredible thing. Did she dare to hope they’d make it back in time to sleep in a real bed tonight? Hell, she’d take an air mattress at this point. Anything to keep her off the ground and away from the critters lurking there.
Then she caught Knox’s stare and realized things were going to get a whole lot worse before they got better.
“Pack up,”Knox said to everyone. He had suspicions about Donnie that he wasn’t ready to voice out loud.
Amy helped while Lorna dragged her feet, clinging to her boyfriend. Donnie peeled her hands off him a couple of times, which seemed odd for someone who’d almost died and was supposed to be in love. Wouldn’t he want to keep Lorna as close as possible? Keep a constant physical connection.
Knox had an overwhelming urge to protect Amy, to touch her. Dirty from the crown of her head to her toes, she’d curled up to him last night, but the last thing on his mind had been pushing her away. There were a few thoughts of getting even dirtier rolling around in the mud together. But they were quickly tempered by what else waited outside the mosquito net and on the ground.
This wasn’t the place for sex.
Amy moved next to him while Lorna and Donnie huddled together ten feet away. “Do you trust him?”
“No,” Knox replied, matter of fact, handing over a magic bottle of liquid that kept mosquitoes from eating her alive. “I wouldn’t leave him in here with my worst enemy.”
That was saying a lot.
Amy searched his eyes, and then her gaze dropped down to the base of his neck. She locked onto a scar the size of the end of a cigar. “What happened here? You’ve had this since we were young.”
He noted that she didn’t use the word kids this time, and felt bad for snapping at her before.
“It’s nothing,” he said, dismissing her. He didn’t talk about his scars with anyone. Not even Garrett, who’d been present when several of them were made at the hands of Knox’s father.
Amy studied him for a moment before tucking the hammock bag away after he’d properly folded it. “What do you think about Lorna?”
“My initial thought was that she wasn’t much more than a blister,” he whispered.
“Blister?”
“You know, someone who shows up after the work is done,” he quipped.
Amy cracked a small smile at the analogy, and the wall erected around his heart opened up a little bit more.
“I’ve never heard that before,” she admitted before her expression turned serious again. “What do you think of her now?”
“Jury is still out, if I’m being honest.”
“I thought she was my friend,” Amy stated. There was a hint of melancholy in her tone. “I don’t have a whole lot of those these days.”
“You have me now,” he said a little too fast. “So, your friend count is still even.”
“You’d be my friend?” she asked, surprised.
“We’re adults now,” he reasoned. “You’re no longer an annoying kid.”
“Thanks?” The word was punctuated by her face crinkling up as she tried to decide if that was an underhanded compliment.
“I’m just saying, a four-year age gap at thirty-one and thirty-five is a far cry from fourteen and eighteen.”
“You did the math?” she asked with a small smirk that shouldn’t be sexy.
“Wasn’t hard.”
“Admit that you thought I was pretty cool back then,” she teased.
“Your brother and I are…were…the same age,” he pointed out. “Remember?”
“What does that have to do with you thinking I’m awesome?”
“It’s the reason I know the age gap off the top of my head,” he stated. Was he overexplaining? It was a telltale sign someone was lying. He’d become a little too good with interrogation while on missions during his service to make this mistake in his personal life.
Amy’s smirk didn’t make his mistake any easier to swallow. She knew him better than most. It had surprised him when they were kids and shocked the hell out of him now, especially when he factored in the point they hadn’t been in the same room in years.
Had he been in the background during a couple of Garrett’s calls home over the years, especially early on. Yes. But that wasn’t enough for her to be able to read him now.
“Cut it out,” he teased, appreciating the momentary lightness in mood. Because he was about to lead her into tarantula-infested waters and that was just the visible threat. The ones lurking below the murky green-brown waters were just as deadly.
“Will we make it out of here alive?” Amy asked in an uncharacteristic small and vulnerable voice.
“That’s my job,” he confirmed. “And I’m damn good at what I do.”
Even he knew better than to make promises he couldn’t guarantee he’d be able to keep. His word meant everything to him. And he wouldn’t candy-coat the situation they faced.
“But that doesn’t mean the jungle doesn’t have other ideas,” he continued. “It’s a living, breathing entity, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.”
She nodded.
“And that means I can’t predict what will happen or what we might encounter, other than a few knowns that you probably don’t need to hear at this point,” he said. “Some things are best left experienced when they come rather than the mental prison that comes with anticipation.”
“Makes sense,” she said after issuing a heavy sigh. “I have a feeling this day is about to get a lot worse.”
He wouldn’t argue there. “That all being said, I think there are dangers with us that could be just as dangerous as any critters we’ll face.”
“Donnie,” she said barely in a whisper.
“I don’t like him,” he declared. “He triggers my Spidey senses.”
“I didn’t like him before,” she admitted. “And I certainly don’t trust him now. My question is whether Lorna can be trusted.”
“She lied to you, right?”
“Yes,” she said with an arched brow.
“When someone tells you who they are, believe them,” he said. The belief had served him well over the years. It fell into the category of fool me once, shame on you but fool me twice, shame on me.
“Point taken,” Amy said. “I guess part of me wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt. I just didn’t want to believe that I could have let someone in my life who could do something like this to me or put me in this position.”
“Let me ask you something.”
“Okay,” she said.
“How long have you known her?”
“Since freshman year of college,” she supplied.
“And how long has she been dating this sorry excuse for a human?” He didn’t bother to sugarcoat his opinion of Donnie. Anyone who pulled what he did had no right to expect respect.
“Three years,” Amy said.
“She put you in jeopardy to please a guy she’s known years less than you?” Considering the men and women he’d served with became family, and loyalty was everything, he couldn’t fathom it.
“She loves him,” Amy said. “Doesn’t love make you blind?”
“Not the good kind.” Not that Knox had experienced it yet but he believed a pure love existed, just not for someone like him. Someone broken. Someone who couldn’t trust. Someone who couldn’t let others in. “But that’s not even the point. If Donnie loved truly loved her, he would never have asked her to put her friend in danger.”
The jolt happened so fast, he almost didn’t see it. A momentary widening of her near-perfect shade of blue eyes before she recovered. This is what it looks like when the truth dawns on you.
“You’re so right,” was all she said before Lorna grunted.
Donnie must have said something she didn’t approve of because she folded her arms across her chest like she was doing her best to block him out.
Donnie raised his voice and made gestures with his hands like he was ‘giving up’.
What the hell was going on over there?