Chapter 7
“Donnie?” Lorna’s weak voice was better than no voice. For a few seconds there, Amy feared her friend wouldn’t regain consciousness. Whatever bad blood was now between them, she didn’t wish harm on Lorna, let alone death, even though Amy and Knox had almost drowned trying to save her.
“He’s not here,” Amy managed to say. Talking required energy she didn’t have, so she didn’t explain further. At this point, all she could do was reach out and take Lorna’s hand as she blinked her eyes open.
She seemed to realize what she’d done when her eyes widened. “I’m so sorry. I panicked and I couldn’t stop?—”
“We’re safe now,” Amy pointed out. Knox had kept them both alive but almost drowned in the process. When his head broke the surface, the look on his face had worried her. He’d gone to a different place mentally, and she’d had no idea how to reach him or bring him back. Or, honestly, even if she could.
Thankfully, he managed to snap out of the fog before all three of them drowned. But the incident invited more questions. She remembered he never got inside the pool. Not even when Garrett gave him an unholy amount of crap for sitting on the edge in hundred-plus temps, frying in the Texas heat.
Knox would roll those broad shoulders of his, laugh it off, and act like he meant to get a sunburn. Now, she wondered if something had happened during childhood to make him afraid of the water, but he’d been too much of a proud teenager to admit it.
Since he wasn’t exactly opening up to her about the past, she might never know the real reason. Or anything else about the man, for that matter. He’d kept to himself years ago. And he was keeping to himself now. So, basically, nothing had changed.
Except the way he looks at you, an annoying voice in the back of her mind pointed out. That was most definitely different now. She’d been nothing but a snotty-nosed annoyance to him all those years ago. Now, she was almost certain she’d seen a spark of desire last night in those gorgeous eyes of his—eyes with the thickest, blackest lashes framing an intense shade of blue. His protectiveness was different now too. He’d kept a physical distance before. Now, he liked her to stay close.
Then again, they were in the jungle. A predator might see her as the weaker one between the two of them and, therefore, attack her. Isolate her. It made sense in the National Geographic framework. Knox was tall, broad, muscled. Basically, he took up a lot of space and would be perceived as something that could fight back. She, on the other hand, was shorter and far less muscled. She didn’t spend her free time at the gym but swam every chance she got and jogged most mornings to clear her head. Since losing Garrett, those jogs had turned into runs—runs that probably gave her the stamina to survive in the jungle alone with no supplies and then make the swim like she just did. Stamina that just saved Lorna’s life.
Speaking of the woman, Lorna reached a hand toward Amy and mouthed a thank you.
Amy gave a nod of acknowledgment all the while wondering where Wonder Boy had disappeared to. Once again, he’d managed to stay out of danger. Would he disappear again? Make up another hair-brained excuse that he was actually saving their lives by ditching them?
Tall and willowy with a distinct lack of muscles, would a predator see him as prey?
When Knox’s breathing returned to some semblance of normal, he pushed to sitting and turned his attention toward Amy. “Not sure what I would have done in there without you.”
She started to wave him off, but he captured her by the wrist instead. He brought it to his lips and pressed a kiss to her skin that sent bolts of fire racing through her, warming her better than a campfire and reaching places she didn’t know existed in her body.
“You’d make one helluva soldier,” he said with a smile that tugged at her heart and made her wish for things, impossible things, like for him to want her.
“I’ll take that as the ultimate compliment coming from you,” she responded, pushing up to sitting. The swim had drained what little energy she had left.
“What happened?” Donnie asked as he came jogging up with a stick tucked under one arm. He dropped to his knees in front of Lorna.
“Where were you?” she asked.
“I’m here now,” he said, impatience edged in his tone. Did the man think he was God’s gift to humanity? His self-obsession was getting old. Even Lorna seemed to be cluing in that her boyfriend was an asshole.
He went in for a hug, but Lorna skillfully maneuvered away from him in time.
“I need air,” she said as she pushed up to her knees, found a tree trunk, and then stood on her own, refusing any help from Wonder Boy.
“At least we all made it across,” he said before adding, “but to what end? We’re moving farther away from base camp and could end up sleeping another night in here.”
“You seem to have managed alright so far,” Knox said.
“It’s only a matter of time before luck runs out,” Donnie countered.
“How is it that you seem to come out of every situation unscathed?” Amy finally asked. “Seriously? How do you manage? Because the rest of us are struggling but you seem to come out smelling like a rose every time.”
Donnie shot a go-to-hell look at Amy before turning his gaze to Knox. “Are we there yet?”
Spoken like a true child,Amy thought.
“Almost,” Knox responded, not giving Donnie the satisfaction of wasting his time coming up with an insult. Well played, Knox. “We need to circle back a bit.”
The group followed him into the jungle, away from the river. Amy couldn’t be sure how long they walked or how far. Her thoughts were spinning about Donnie. At least Lorna seemed to be wising up that her boyfriend wasn’t the amazing human being she’d believed. Maybe she could snap her brain out of the Donnie-fog and think clearly again. Amy was one hundred percent certain her friend would leave Donnie if she could see him for what he was, a self-serving jerk who wasn’t worth Lorna’s time.
Lorna scooted up next to Amy, who had hold of Knox’s pack. How he’d managed to keep it on his back was still a mystery, except that his time in the service most likely was responsible. She remembered her brother talking about what it was like to carry a hundred-pound ruck, as he’d called it, on his back, not to mention the weight of his vest and weapons while on training drills. Garrett never divulged information about his missions but training, he’d said, could be searched accurately on the internet. He considered it fair game to discuss openly with family.
Of course, that had only meant Amy and their mother since they didn’t associate with extended family. Their mom said everyone was better off that way. Over the years, Amy had had someone who shared her last name request to friend her or follow her on social media. It was impossible to completely disappear.
Except for Knox. He didn’t have a social media account. He didn’t come home once he left. And Amy shouldn’t still carry the same torch, flame just as bright, as she had when they were kids. Correction, she was young, according to Knox. Remembering the indignation in his voice when she’d referred to them both as kids made her smile. It probably shouldn’t make her want to laugh but he’d been so serious. Now that she’d seen sparks of attraction reflected in his eyes, his defensiveness took on a whole new meaning.
Was he fighting the attraction they both felt? Or was she seeing what she wanted? Finding evidence to prove a theory that may or may not be correct? Confirmation bias? Tunnel vision?
Whatever the name, Amy reminded herself to proceed with caution when it came to an attraction with Knox. He still wasn’t opening up to her. He had many secrets. And it would be foolish to build up a possible relationship in her head with a man who kept his guard up so high.
Out of nowhere, the trees opened up into a large, circular clearing. There were huts with thatched roofs sprinkled in a circle around a bonfire. This area looked like something she’d seen on film or in photographs. The simplicity of it amazed her.
Black-haired children ran around wearing shorts and tribal necklaces, playing, laughing, carefree. Bare-breasted and unashamed women huddled, talking, glancing over at the children. It was something out of a Norman Rockwell painting, Amazon style. There were colorful feathers and face painting as part of their wardrobe.
But the minute the foursome stepped out of the trees, make no mistake, the tribe was ready to defend itself against unwelcomed and unexpected guests. A half dozen young men descended on them with arrows at the ready.
Knox spoke in a language she’d never heard before. Whatever he said worked because the young men summoned an older gentleman who walked right up to Knox and embraced him.
Amy exhaled the breath she’d been holding, figuring she might just live to see another day. Out here, she took nothing for granted, not the least of which was that living was a guarantee.
Reduced to focusing only on the present, she found a surprising amount of comfort. Back in the States, she was constantly assaulted with noise. Traffic. Airplanes. Voices. Cell phone conversations. Real peace had escaped her. Out here, she felt alive and like she was part of something bigger instead of life happening all around her without her participation.
She was probably delirious.
Knox put a hand on the older man’s shoulder, which caused him to bow his head and listen.
She had no idea what was being said but the older man nodded and occasionally grunted. And then the man pointed to Donnie. His tone changed. He sounded hostile.
Knox turned to face Donnie.“Are you friends with guys carrying automatic weapons through the jungle?”
Donnie’s face twisted. “Do I look like the kind of person who knows people like that, let alone hangs out with them?”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“No,” Donnie defended as he reached for Lorna. What could she do? Protect him? From what? Or who?
Knox?
The man shouldn’t waste his energy worrying about Knox right now. Later, maybe. At present, Knox wanted to know if the man had a hidden agenda in coming to the jungle. The old saying about keeping friends close but enemies closer applied here.
Knox planned to be Donnie’s shadow.
He turned to the elder, known only by his last name to Knox, Wapichana, and asked if he was certain he’d seen Donnie before.
Wapichana smiled a crooked smile and responded most Americans look alike to him. No, he couldn’t be sure. Then, he welcomed the foursome into his village.
“May I?” Amy asked, gesturing toward her camera.
Knox asked permission. Wapichana granted it.
He was used to military-grade equipment but this camera looked expensive. “It’s not damaged from the water?”
“Windproof. Dropping proof. Waterproof,” she responded with a smile. Her eyes lit up as she pulled the camera up to her eye, flipped off the lens cap, and started filming. This was Amy in her zone and it was easy to see how much she loved it. Her disposition changed. A twinkle lit her eyes. A lightness came over her like she was in her lane.
Knox’s time in the service kept him away from home, gave him a sense of purpose and a reason to be proud, but the spark was gone now that he’d lost his best friend. Everyone kept telling him to give it time. Unsolicited advice was always full of cliches, he’d noticed. When Garrett died, it was similar to those who described losing a twin. Knox’s only wish was that it had been him in that seat instead of Garrett like it was supposed to have been.
Shit.
Memories sucked. They caused pain. So, he tucked them away, shoving them down deep so they couldn’t resurface.
Besides, Amy would hate him once she knew that it should have been him in the casket and not her brother. She wouldn’t be able to look him in the eyes again if she knew he’d asked to switch seats. She would despise him for the rest of their lives.
Even though a growing part of him wanted to tell her everything because she deserved to know the truth. The selfish part couldn’t stand the thought of seeing the look of hurt and disappointment in her eyes when she knew what he’d taken from her.
Garrett was the good one. It was total bullshit that he’d had to die young.
But also, it was getting more and more difficult to look into her eyes without telling her. Like he was holding in a lie that could shred her and cause her to see him for what he really was…a bad person.
Right then and there, Knox resolved to tell her the truth. But he would wait for the right moment.
The elder ushered them into the village, where they were given two tents, one for the women and one for the men. They were given clean water for baths and toothbrushes with toothpaste no doubt left over from a missionary or explorer who’d wandered into their territory or a tribe member who’d gone into town to exchange or sell wares, bringing back things they needed. Knox had his own supplies, but Donnie had lost his.
Donnie kept a safe distance from Knox in the tent and the fact would amuse him under normal circumstances. Right now, though, his patience had worn thin and after nearly drowning along with the flashback, he wasn’t in the mood.
Food in the form of fruits and vegetables were brought in next along with fish, caught, cleaned, and cooked from the same river that tried to claim Knox’s life an hour ago.
Clean clothes were offered, Knox figured Amy would be in heaven about now. His chest puffed out with pride that he could find a way to bring those comforts to her. Donnie, on the other hand, looked as sour as ever.
“How will we ever get back to base camp if we’re heading the opposite direction?” he asked.
“Good question,” was all Knox said. He didn’t plan to tip his hand, they weren’t going back. He didn’t trust Donnie as far as he could throw him. The man was a jerk. He didn’t treat women well, which was a sign of his character. He only tolerated Knox because he was twice the man’s size. If not, Donnie was the type to try to intimidate someone smaller than him that he perceived as weaker.
At this point, however, Knox wasn’t sure what Donnie might be up to. He wanted this thing to play out, needing to know how corrupt the so-called explorer was and if he’d made a deal for his own safety, throwing Amy into the lion’s den in a manner of speaking. Or if the guy was innocent, lost like he claimed to be.
Lorna had finally gotten Donnie’s number, if the cold shoulder she’d been giving him was anything to go by. Knox took note because it meant she might talk about her boyfriend and possibly reveal his motives. At the very least, they might discover one way or another if she was involved or knew about Donnie’s plans.
Information was good.
“Are you going to answer it?” Donnie asked, sounding perturbed. Entitled much? The man needed to learn how to chill, especially when someone else held his life in his hands.
“How did you get into exploring?” Knox asked, figuring he might be able to get Donnie to open up if he gave him space to talk about himself. Based on what Knox had seen so far, Donnie was his own favorite topic. Plus, he had no intention of answering the man’s question.
“Climbed trees when I was a kid,” Donnie said. “Mom and Dad noticed, bought me my first National Geographic magazine when I was nine years old. The rest is history.”
From nine to grown-ass man is leaving out a whole lot of said history.
“You knew you wanted to explore from the age of nine?” Knox asked, uncomfortable at being separated from Amy for too long. He tried to tell himself that she was his responsibility, but the truth was that she had a calming presence like he’d never known before. A growing piece of him wanted to hold tight to it, to the feeling, to her.
“Not then,” Donnie said. “Climbing trees led to walking through creeks. I was fascinated by all the insects there. Growing up in Austin, I was around plenty of spiders and frogs but nothing like what I found when I started branching out.” He shrugged but his voice took on a less annoyed tone when he talked about exploring. Good to know the man wasn’t a total waste. There was something else inside him, a desire that Knox hadn’t seen yet. “I signed up for nature classes, volunteered summers at a local nature preserve. Guess you could say I became more and more obsessed as time went on. Plus, you know, people haven’t been my strong suit.”
Really? Knox had to hold back his sarcasm.
“I was bullied in middle school,” Donnie confided. His face turned red at the admission. Embarrassment or anger? Knox wasn’t certain which one, but it made a difference. Kids who grew up to be bullies often times were bullied themselves. The loss of power they felt when they were younger sometimes shows up in later life as an abuser.
It wasn’t a good reason so much as an explanation.
“I bet you never had to worry about being pushed into a locker or being ‘pants’d’ in school,” Donnie continued with resentment in his voice.
“No, my dad made sure I kept welts on the backs of my thighs so I had to wear basketball shorts in PE, and ‘fell’ a lot at home as explanations for bruises and black eyes,” Knox supplied matter-of-fact.
Donnie’s gaze widened in shock.
“What?” Knox asked, not bothering to hide his sarcasm. “Do you think you cornered the market when it comes to hard-knock lives? Because if you talked to most of the men in my unit, they had reasons to be angry at the world.”
Donnie cast his gaze down to the blanket-covered ground. If he was five years old, he’d stick his hands in his pocket and kick at dirt. “I guess I just thought someone like you didn’t have problems.”
Well, Knox really laughed at that. He wasn’t meaning to add insult to injury by laughing but couldn’t help himself. Donnie lived in a dream world.
“I wasn’t always this big,” Knox supplied. “In fact, I was a late bloomer. I looked like a skeleton for much of high school.”
“Strange,” Donnie said. “I can’t imagine it.”
“It’s true,” Knox confirmed. But he wanted to change the subject now that Donnie’s guard had lowered. “So, I didn’t get a chance to ask you before about the men who’d been chasing you and Amy.”
“What’s there to tell?” Donnie asked. His shoulders hunched forward, indicating he wasn’t too cool with the shift in conversation.
“Have you ever seen anyone who looked like these men before?”
Donnie’s defenses flared. “No. Why would I?”
“Just asking, man.”
“I just answered,” Donnie said, his voice curt as he crossed the small room, folding his arms over his chest to create a physical barrier. In reading his body language, the man had just closed himself off. He didn’t want to keep the conversation going. “I better go check on Lorna.”
As he passed by Knox, he caught the man by the arm. “Word of caution.”
Donnie’s body tensed and he refused to make eye contact.
“Go easy on Lorna,” Knox warned. “Or the way you treat her could come back to haunt you.”
“What? How?” Donnie stammered. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Let’s pretend that’s true,” Knox said. “I’d like to remind you that all abuse isn’t physical. The mental kind is just as bad if not worse in some ways. You berate her in front of me again or I so much as hear that it’s happening in private, you and I are going to have a little chat.”
“Are you saying you plan to beat me up like your father did you?” Donnie asked, jerking his arm away. “Like father, like son.”
Knox laughed. “Dude, you’re gonna have to try harder than that to piss me off.”
“I wasn’t trying to,” Donnie retorted, but his tactic was obvious. Did he really think he was that clever?
Knox took note the man was trying to insult him as a maneuver to get his power back.
“Good,” Knox said, calm as you please.
“Good,” Donnie parroted as he stomped out of the hut.
Knox should probably follow but he was too amused by Donnie trying to trigger him by throwing his father up in his face. No, dear old dad didn’t have that kind of power over Knox’s temper any longer. He’d worked that out years ago, realizing anger was a mental prison and his dad won if Knox couldn’t let it go.
He was way too stubborn and competitive to allow that to happen. The effects of the punishments still crept up on him. Like in the water. Those were the stuff of nightmares. Those were more difficult to shake.
Did those stop him from being able to open up to Amy?