Chapter Fifteen

Amelia woke slowly, the feeling of security wrapped around her as tightly as Wyatt’s arms. She knew she was safe in the small room carved out of a hill in the remote jungle of Santigo, but it was Wyatt’s presence that gave her the sense of calm and contentment she needed to sleep soundly.

She thought he was going to tell her he loved her last night. She’d been both gloriously elated and fanatically freaked out. It wasn’t that she didn’t want his love—she did. Desperately. She’d loved him for what seemed like forever. But they were in danger, stuck in a country without any means of escape at the moment. Their lives were at risk as soon as they left the confines of the tiny room in Father Juan’s church, and she was the target. Wyatt had been helplessly caught up in her drama. The men who hunted them were after her, she was sure of it, and it was all because of what she’d witnessed on the tarmac between Donald Bainbridge and the cartel. Donald wanted to make certain she never told anyone he was a rotten, disgusting drug dealing scumbag.

If something happened to Wyatt, she wasn’t sure how she would cope. He’d become the most important person in her life, as vital as the air she breathed. She’d mourn him for the rest of her life…assuming she lived through the ordeal. If something happened to her, she didn’t want him to spend his life mourning her. That was why she didn’t want him making a grand declaration of love. Wrong time, wrong place.

She wished Maggie was here to give her advice. Her former roommate was wise and would know exactly what to do in any situation. She’d been the office manager of COBRA Securities, but knew she wanted to become an agent. She’d worked her butt off to prove herself, stepping out of her two Navy SEAL brothers’ shadows to shine. She could do anything she set her mind to, and Amelia trusted her with her deepest secrets, knowing Maggie would never betray a confidence. Yet she hadn’t confessed her feelings for Wyatt. She wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was because if she said the words aloud, it would make them real. Or maybe it was because Maggie was so deliriously happy with her wonderful husband Carter, Amelia knew she’d push for the same kind of relationship for her. And she wanted it. She longed for what Maggie and Carter, Noah and Peyton, Ethan and Esme and the rest of the COBRA Securities couples shared. They’d each found their perfect partners, the person who completed them. Amelia had, too, she just hadn’t admitted it to anyone, even herself.

It was pitch black inside the windowless room, but Wyatt’s arms anchored her to reality. She rolled until they were face to face, even if she couldn’t see his expression.

“Morning, darling,” he rumbled in his sexy accent.

“Good morning. How did you sleep?”

“With you in my arms? Perfectly.”

She smiled. “Me, too.”

Then his lips met hers unerringly in the dark—how did he do that?—and she was lost in the sensation of kissing the man of her dreams. The man she loved. She didn’t protest when he rolled her over and slid inside. She reveled in the fullness, the sense of rightness that enveloped her. Even mostly clothed and trying her hardest to keep silent, the feel of his body was enough to send her hurtling towards release. He moved slowly, deliberately, letting the feelings build. When the sensations overtook her, she rode the wave, biting her lip to keep from shouting her euphoria to the world. He followed after her, his harsh breaths fanning against her ear. When he collapsed on top of her, she wrapped her arms and legs around him and held on tight.

#

After another shower that led to more touching and caressing, Wyatt handed her a fresh t-shirt while he pulled on the last of his clean clothes. Too bad Father Juan didn’t have a washing machine. Her pants would be able to walk on their own, soon.

Ryan was sitting up, his back propped against the wall. He continued to improve, though one eye was still swollen shut. He made another trip to the bathroom under his own power, though Wyatt stood a few steps behind, ready to catch him if he took another tumble.

Once they’d all eaten and showered, there wasn’t much to do but sit around and talk. The books Father Juan supplied were classics she’d read many times, so they didn’t provide a distraction. Every hour or so, she coaxed Ryan into standing and performing a set of exercises, from toe-touches to side bends to knee lifts.

The last time she “encouraged” him to get up and walk in place, Wyatt snickered. She shot him a look, but he widened his eyes in innocence.

“Get up.”

Wyatt blinked. “What’s that?”

“I said get up. Do you think I didn’t see the face you made behind my back at Ryan?”

“What face…I didn’t—”

“Get up.”

Mumbling under his breath, something to do with sadistic torture masters, he stood and followed her instructions. Soon, they were all stretching and limbering up their muscles. Rehab was never fun, but she wanted Ryan’s stamina up in case they needed to leave quickly. She was shooting for tomorrow.

Though Wyatt liked to give her a hard time about being a drill sergeant, he always completed the exercises she threw at him. She’d even left detailed instructions with Maggie and Kayla on his rehab program. Speaking of…

“Wyatt?”

“What? I’m touching my damn toes,” he grumbled.

She smiled at his attempt. He was touching them, albeit a bit wobbly. Still, A plus for effort. “What happened with Maggie and Kayla before you left?”

He stood and wiped his forehead with the hem of his shirt. “What do you mean?”

“You said you didn’t tell them you were taking a trip. Did they follow my rehab program?”

His hands fisted on his hips. “Yeah, about that…I’m not speaking with Kayla. Ever again.”

She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. “Why?”

He threw his hands out. “She’s worse than you! You gave her a little power and boom.” She jumped back when he smacked his hands together. “Went straight to her head.”

“She was only following my program,” she pointed out.

“The hell she was,” he argued. “I’m pretty sure she was trying to kill me.”

“Wait,” Ryan cut in before she could defend the female agent. “Why were you doing rehab? Were you injured?”

“Not really,” Wyatt downplayed.

“Yes,” she said at the same time.

Wyatt shot her a disgruntled look. “A small on the job incident.”

Incident? He called saving dozens of lives small?

If he wouldn’t toot his own horn, she would. She’d blow the hell out of the thing.

“A couple of weeks ago, rebels dropped a bomb and destroyed an entire airport hangar and everyone inside. Wyatt had just left the building and he was thrown through the air.”

“Wow,” Ryan murmured. “That’s awful.”

“That’s not all.”

“Yeah, it is,” Wyatt tried.

She ignored him. “Concussed and injured, he crawled to his vehicle and withdrew a sniper rifle. With a severe case of double vision, he managed to take out the helicopter that had circled around and was about to bomb a tank holding hundreds of gallons of jet fuel. It would’ve wiped out everything and everyone within a twenty-mile radius.”

“Damn,” Ryan murmured in awe. “That’s impressive. How the hell did you manage to carry me through the woods after that? Shouldn’t you still be recuperating?”

“Aussie blood,” Wyatt boasted. “We’re made of sterner stuff.”

“No doubt,” Ryan agreed.

She did, too. He was a superman among men. The bravest, strongest, most incredible man she’d ever met. Not to mention kind, sweet and thoughtful. Mix all those together and it was no surprise she’d fallen hard for the warrior. He was one-in-a-million.

She retreated to the bathroom before she did something stupid like blurting out her feelings or worse: attacking him with a captive audience. She wasn’t sure she could control herself. Her feelings were at the surface. Despite the precariousness of their situation, with Wyatt at her side, she knew they could withstand anything they encountered.

When she returned, Ryan was grilling Wyatt on his job with COBRA Securities. He was fascinated with their work and wanted to know everything about the company and the employees. Soon to be a part of the group herself, she included her insights into the dynamics of the people. Talking about Maggie and the others brought a wave of homesickness she’d never experienced before. Being stranded in a foreign country with deranged kidnappers after them might have something to do with the feelings, but she couldn’t wait to fly home, knowing she was safe.

With Ryan’s military background, he would fit right in with the other agents. She studied him, wondering if he was interested in applying for a job. He’d ended his military career and hadn’t decided on a new career path. Luke and Logan, the bosses at COBRA Securities, had way more jobs than agents right now. She knew from Maggie that they were planning on hiring more people over the next few months to cover the work. She wasn’t an expert, but she thought he would excel at the job. She’d have a chat with Wyatt later to gauge his thoughts. She’d recommend Ryan, but it would mean more coming from Wyatt.

Time passed quickly and before she knew it, Father Juan was sticking his head inside.

“Anyone hungry?” He patted his belly to translate his question to Ryan.

“Yes,” they all answered in unison, bringing a smile to Father Juan’s face. He slid the door open wide and swung around with a tray in his hands. Wyatt jumped up to take it from him. The scent of warm bread and steaming vegetable soup wafted to her and her stomach growled.

“We would love for you to join us,” Amelia told him.

“I would be honored,” he said, looking pleased.

After the soup had been ladled into bowls and passed around, Wyatt sliced into the bread and handed everyone a plate.

“This looks delicious,” she told Father Juan.

“The bread is courtesy of one of our villagers. She bakes it fresh each day.”

Amelia took a bite and almost moaned. It melted in her mouth. The soup was divine, and it hit the spot. As they ate, Father Juan shared stories of the missionaries that travelled to the remote village and how one man tried to teach him hip hop moves. He demonstrated a couple, to their amusement. She and Wyatt took turns translating for Ryan.

Ryan’s good eye was drooping and Amelia could feel exhaustion pulling at her, too. With Amelia’s help, Father Juan gathered up the dishes. Wyatt insisted on carting the tray back to his kitchen. Father Juan bid them goodnight with Wyatt following behind.

“Do you want to use the bathroom before bed?” She asked Ryan.

He nodded and swung his feet off the side of the bed. She stayed a few steps behind in case he had any trouble, but he made it and closed the door. Wyatt returned and she walked into his arms as naturally as if she did so every day.

“You tired?”

She stifled a yawn. “Yes.”

“You can use the bathroom after Ryan. I’ll wait.”

She wanted to argue but she was sleepy. It wasn’t as if she’d done anything strenuous, but her body needed the rest. As soon as Ryan was out, she made quick work of brushing her teeth with one of the brushes she’d packed in her medical supplies and washing her face. It felt strange that she hadn’t worn any makeup for days. Her brows and lashes were so light, they were virtually impossible to see. She never left the house without mascara, but she hadn’t even given it a thought while she’d been in the jungle.

Leaving the light on for Wyatt, she retreated to the small bed they shared. Ryan was already fast asleep. She scooted against the wall and waited for Wyatt to join her, but her eyes closed, and she was out before he returned.

#

Wyatt tugged the string to extinguish the light and left the bathroom. Ryan was sound asleep which meant he and Amelia could indulge in a little nocturnal nookie. Only…she was asleep, too. He sighed. So much for the sex-a-thon he had planned. It was just as well. He needed to rest and build up his strength for the days ahead. His only goal was to get Amelia to safety. The thought of the kidnappers still after them made his pulse pound. They were not giving up.

Kicking off his boots, he settled them against the end of the bed, ready to step into them if needed. After tugging the string to the overhead light, plunging the room into blackness, he eased back the covers and crawled in next to her. She rolled over and cuddled against him with a purr and he gathered her close. There was no better feeling in the world than having her in his arms.

The future flashed before his eyes, fifty years ahead. They were cuddled exactly like this with her snug in his arms. They were older and gray, but the love hadn’t diminished. If anything, it’d grown stronger. There were children and grandchildren and memories too numerous to count. A good life—a very good life—filled with love and happiness.

He swiped a hand down his face, hoping he was psychic and that the visions were real. Ethan Addison’s girlfriend owned a fortune-telling shop. Though she didn’t do readings herself, her aunt was gifted. He’d never felt the need to have his fortune told, but he’d love to know if the vision in his head, so vivid and intense, would come true. God, he hoped so. The thought of spending his life with Amelia, sharing the good and the bad, made his heart soar.

He knew he needed to sleep while he could. They were safe. Once they left, it might be days before he could let down his guard. Only, his brain was working overtime.

He thought about the conversation with Ryan earlier. The man was interested in COBRA Securities. He had the background to qualify as an agent, but he’d need to pass Dante Costa’s rigorous tests. Wyatt didn’t know about his shooting accuracy, but he’d need to ace those tests, too. He was a good judge of character and he thought Ryan would be a good fit. He had no problem recommending him to Luke and Logan as a possible recruit, if he was interested.

The door slicked open and Wyatt shot straight up. He’d dozed off and had no idea what time it was or how long he’d been out of it. Complete darkness sucked and messed with his internal clock.

Blinking to focus, he spotted Father Juan, backlit from the light in his bedroom. He looked worried…no panicked. Wyatt’s instincts were instantly alert. He jumped up and snapped on the light.

Father Juan bent over to slide an overflowing box inside that contained packaged food and bottles of water. “I just got word that a group of armed men are headed this way. One of the villagers was out hunting and spotted them. They’ll be here soon. I’m not sure if the two men who were here earlier are with them but bolt the door and don’t come out.”

Amelia jumped off the bed. “Father Juan, stay in here with us where it’s safe.”

He smiled kindly at her. “Thank you for the offer, but they will wonder where I am. I’ll be fine. I will let you know when it’s clear.”

As soon as he slid the bookcase in place, Wyatt shot the bolts that would make it impossible for anyone to get inside.

“I hope we didn’t bring trouble to his door,” Amelia murmured.

Wyatt nodded. “Me, too.”

“It’s my fault,” Ryan said. He held up a hand when they both started to protest. “We wouldn’t still be here if I’d been able to move.”

“Not your fault,” Wyatt insisted. “They don’t know we’re here now. Even if they found out we had been at one time, they don’t know we’re still here. They might search all the huts, but they won’t find us, so it’s really the same as if we’re gone.”

“The only ones at fault are the men who kidnapped us,” Amelia asserted.

And they weren’t giving up. They wouldn’t be safe until they were out of the country.

Since the room was carved out of a hill, it was completely soundproofed. A war could rage right outside the church and they wouldn’t know it. The downside was that he had no idea what was happening. Would the gang come in hot, firing at anyone who moved? Or would they simply ask questions and move along to the next village? He feared for the former but prayed for the latter.

#

The good thing about a hidden room was exactly that—it was concealed. Unless someone knew about it, they wouldn’t be found. Amelia had never been claustrophobic before, but twinges of unease started settling in her bones. She glanced around. Was there enough air for three people? What if the gang set fire to the church? They’d be trapped inside with no way out. They’d surely die of smoke inhalation.

With all they’d been through the last few days, now was not the time to panic. She inhaled through her nose and held the breath to settle her jittery stomach. She glanced at Ryan to see he’d fallen back asleep. He still had remnants of the sedative in his system. She wished she could sleep.

As if sensing her inner turmoil, Wyatt covered her hand with his. She looked at him and her nerves calmed instantly. He had that effect on her. He was her anchor, her rock.

“Wait here.” He slid off the bed and tugged the string, plunging the room into darkness. Then the bed dipped, and his arms wrapped around her like the best blanket in the world. She snuggled against him, absorbing his strength.

“In case there are any cracks under the bookcase,” he said, explaining his decision to turn off the lights.

“I’ve never been afraid of confined spaces before, but this is freaking me out a little. It started when I was tossed in the cell, knowing I couldn’t get out.”

His grip tightened. “I won’t let anything happen to you, Amelia. I’d give my life first.”

A shudder wracked her body. She knew he absolutely meant every word. He’d almost died saving his coworkers, his friends. He was honorable and noble.

“Ow. What was that for?”

Her hand smarted from slugging him on his rock-solid bicep. “For talking about dying. I don’t want you saying things like that.”

“Why? It’s the truth.”

There was no sense in arguing with him, so she snuggled deeper into his embrace.

“I hate hiding in here like a coward,” he muttered. “It’s not the villagers’ battle to fight.”

“Maybe it’s not the gang who kidnapped us. It might be a different group of people.”

“All men and armed? They’re looking for us. I can feel it.”

She sighed. “So can I.”

#

Gustavo led his men to the small cluster of huts situated in the foothills of the Picos Dentados. They were able to use all-terrain vehicles through much of the jungle, but most of the villages were only accessible by foot, so they had to leave them and walk the rest of the way. Another complaint he’d make the escaped prisoners pay for since he hated to hike. He didn’t like to sweat unless it was over a beautiful woman’s body. Otherwise, exercise was for the weak, as far as he was concerned.

He glanced around with a curled lip. This village resembled all the others located deep in the rainforest. It looked like the one he’d grown up in until he’d been able to claw his way out. He vowed never to be poor again, living without basic necessities like three meals a day and hot water. He wore Italian suits and shoes made from alligator hides. His watch was a diamond Rolex and he only drank the finest wines. He’d made sure his home was built with every luxury available including imported marble tile and solid gold fixtures. It was opulent and extravagant and anyone who stepped inside knew that the owner was a very successful man.

So, it pissed Gustavo off that he was traipsing around the jungle looking for three escaped prisoners. He had men to do the grunt work for him. But these three were essential—well, two were important. Donald Bainbridge promised to pay big for the woman doctor. She’d witnessed their drug exchange, apparently. Gustavo could care less who saw them. Most people in Santigo feared him, including every government official. He’d built his reputation on blood and death, so people knew to avoid him or face the consequences.

The woman was Donald’s problem, but until it was resolved, Donald wouldn’t do business with him. Donald brought in a significant amount of cash. Gustavo was not hurting for money—far from it. But he lived by the creed that more was always better. More money. More women. More power. If Gustavo didn’t produce the woman, Donald would take his business elsewhere. If he wasn’t in an American jail, that is. Gustavo chuckled. He had no doubt the woman would tattle at the first opportunity.

It was imperative that he track down the bitch and maybe slap her around for what she’d put him through. Donald said nothing about the condition he wanted her in when she was returned to him.

The giant blond man was a throw-away. Gustavo had a feeling he was the one to orchestrate the escape. He looked like a troublemaker. They hadn’t found any identification on him, so they had no idea who to contact for a ransom, therefore, he was expendable.

The other reason he was out in the Godforsaken jungle was to hunt down the Canadian who took his cousin Enrico’s life and make him pay. Painfully. For long, long hours until he begged for Gustavo to release him from his earthly body. But he would not. No, the Canadian would die a slow, excruciating death. Eventually. No one harmed Gustavo’s family and lived to tell the tale.

He still couldn’t figure out how the three managed to escape and evade his men for so long. He knew the jungle. They did not. He didn’t like appearing inept in front of his men. He would find them, though he was beginning to think the three had disappeared off the face of the earth. Maybe they’d been eaten by jaguars or swallowed whole by anacondas. No one they’d encountered had seen a trace of them.

He’d sent JoJo and Lewin ahead to question the villagers, but they’d come up empty. Maybe he should’ve sent someone else since JoJo and Lewin were dumb as tree stumps, but they thought the pastor they encountered acted strange. It was worth checking out himself.

Gustavo glanced around, looking for someone to ask, but there was no sign of life. Where were the people who inhabited the huts? A flash of movement caught his eye and he spotted a young boy emerging from the forest in the other direction, unaware of their presence. He gasped and took a step back when he spotted them, dropping the bucket filled with acai berries he’d harvested.

“Who are you?”

Gustavo plastered on his most sincere smile. “My name is Gus. Who are you?”

The boy looked at each of his men skeptically. “I’m Pedro.”

“Pedro, I’m looking for some people. They’re friends of mine. A woman, she’s a doctor, and two men. One of them is injured and I want to help. Have you seen them?”

Pedro bobbed his head. “Yes. They were here.” His eyes rounded and he slapped a hand over his mouth. “I mean no,” he garbled.

“What’s that?”

He removed his hand. “No, they’re not here. They left.”

The kid knew something but had obviously been told to lie. Gustavo vibrated with excitement. What was that saying that the English-speaking countries were fond of, something about the third time being the charm? He never really understood that phrase until now. This was the third village they’d encountered, and they’d hit the jackpot.

He’d been sure the elders at the two other villages he questioned had been lying to him, so they all paid the price for their deception. Now that he knew the escaped captives were here, the people of this community might be spared. It depended on how hard Gustavo and his men had to work to find the three escaped captives. If the villagers were honest and led him to them, he would simply take the woman and the Canadian and be on his way. He’d leave the giant blond man behind—with a bullet in his head, of course.

“Good. That’s very good. Where are they, Pedro? I need to speak with them immediately.”

Pedro lifted his hands with a shrug. “I said they left.”

Gustavo narrowed his eyes. “Did you see them leave?”

Pedro looked torn. Finally, he shook his head.

“So, they could still be here?”

He tossed out his arms. “I was told they were gone. You have to ask Father Juan.”

Gustavo’s nostrils flared. If they truly had left, he’d be deprived of the revenge he sought until he could track them down again. He was tired of this cat and mouse game.

“Take me to Father Juan. Now.”

Pedro recognized the threat in his voice. The boy spun around and darted towards a structure built against a hill. It had the pitched roof and steeple with a golden cross marking it as a church. Gustavo gestured for his men to follow as they headed for the small chapel. Pedro stood to the side of the steps, his small body shaking. Gustavo waved him away with a flick of his hand and he wasted no time fleeing.

Gustavo stormed inside, hoping to catch the fugitives off guard but there was only one man in the sanctuary. He was kneeling in front of an altar, his head bowed. Gustavo had no use for prayer. It did no good. Only hard work got you what you wanted, not some ridiculous being who floated around in the sky, overseeing everyone.

Gustavo glanced around but it appeared the priest was alone. He’d turned at their entry and slowly pushed to his feet, a rosary dangling between his clasped hands.

Gustavo stormed forward. “Are you Father Juan?”

The man inclined his head. “Yes, I am Father Juan. How may I help you gentlemen?”

“I’m looking for three fugitives. They’re escaped convicts and considered extremely dangerous. A woman and two men, one of them badly hurt. I was assured they were here by one of your villagers. Take me to them, now.”

The priest nodded in confirmation. “Yes, I know who you speak of and they were here, but they left. I allowed them to sleep in the pews, but they were gone when I awoke yesterday.”

Lewin stepped forward. “Hey, you told us earlier that you hadn’t seen them.”

“Oh, hello again. Yes, well, you said you were looking for your hiking friends and you’d been separated. I knew it couldn’t be the same group since one man was badly injured. He wouldn’t have been hiking in his condition.”

Gustavo closed his eyes. Lewin truly was a dumbass, second only to JoJo.

“You knew who we meant,” Lewin accused.

“I’m sorry, I did not,” the priest insisted.

Rage bubbled up inside Gustavo. He’d been so close. “Where. Did. They. Go?”

The priest held out his hands. “I’m sorry, as I said, I do not know. We had a language barrier. I didn’t understand them and they didn’t understand me. I simply provided them food and shelter for the night.”

Gustavo tossed back his head, threw out his arms and let out an earsplitting roar. Even his men skittered back in fear. He was tired of trekking through the Godforsaken jungle in search of three people who should have never escaped in the first place. He was tired of sleeping on the hard ground and eating terrible food. Before he thought better of it, he lifted his pistol and shot the priest at point blank range. He was robbed of the element of surprise on the priest’s face. Instead, the man looked calm as blood blossomed through his robes and he crumbled to the floor in a heap. With another savage growl, he unloaded his pistol into the cleric. How dare he deprive Gustavo of the satisfaction of killing him!

When the last bullet left the chamber, he stared at the gun as if he’d never seen it before. Usually killing a man didn’t faze him, but his grandmother would skin him alive for murdering a man of the cloth. In cold blood, no less. Shaking the thoughts away, he jammed the gun in his holster. He didn’t care what the old hag thought. She’d beat him within an inch of his life with switches she made him gather himself from the jungle. He still bore the scars on his back and buttocks. He felt no remorse for ending her with one of those switches when he turned eighteen. Wrapping the branch around her neck and yanking the ends tight had been cathartic. She’d gurgled and gasped, but he jerked the ends harder. The satisfaction he felt when she slumped over dead was the beginning of his current career path. Watching the life drain out of someone was better than sex with Jazmin, and that woman was all kinds of flexible. She could twist her body into all sorts of intricate knots.

Just because the man he’d killed devoted himself to a God that Gustavo didn’t believe in didn’t mean he should feel any different about taking his life. The way he saw it, he did the priest a favor, sending him to meet his maker. Besides, he deserved it for helping the fugitives evade him. It wasn’t like he’d ever see the man again. If there was such a thing as Heaven or Hell, Gustavo would surely be banished to spend eternity with the dark lord himself.

“Gather everyone in the village and kill them,” he ordered his troops. He didn’t feel guilty about eliminating them, either. They were all accessories, even the little ones. He stayed inside the church until his blood pressure returned to normal, then he spun around and stomped outside, expecting to see carnage and gore everywhere. Instead, his men were coming from the huts with perplexed looks.

“They’re all gone,” Felix informed him. “All the buildings are empty.”

Livid he’d been thwarted again, Gustavo let out another thunderous roar. Birds skittered from the trees, their wings flapping madly as they fluttered to escape the screaming madman. He couldn’t take satisfaction from watching his men eliminate the people who helped the prisoners escape. He spun in a circle, looking into the woods that surrounded the village. Where had they gone? He lifted his pistol to fire into the jungle, but one squeeze reminded him he’d used up his bullets on the damn priest.

Rage engulfed him again. He thought about sending his men to find them. They couldn’t have gotten far. There would be old people and children to slow them down. But they weren’t his priority. Finding the woman and the Canadian was, but they’d outmaneuvered him again. He was back to square one.

“What do we do about the priest?” Felix asked anxiously. “We can’t just leave him there.”

Gustavo could care less. His heart hammered in his ears as he slowly spun around to face Felix. He must look like a Berserker because Felix’s eyes widened, and he stumbled backwards out of reach. Gustavo might feel the need to kill someone, but he wouldn’t turn on his men. He was already down several thanks to the prisoners and one idiot who thought it would be funny to provoke a damn anaconda. Dumbasses, the lot of them.

Closing his eyes, he drew on every ounce of restraint he possessed. When he opened them, it was to see Felix shaking in his boots. He knew the man attended church and believed in a higher being overseeing everything that happened on earth. If Felix wanted to delude himself, that was his problem. “Dig a hole and bury him,” he ordered. “Make it fast. Then check all of the buildings again.” If the escaped prisoners were here, he’d find them. He’d changed his mind about torturing the Canadian. Now he just wanted the man dead. He’d have his men bury the Canadian and the giant blond man in the hole with the Padre. He’d make the doctor pay for disrespecting him, too. He didn’t care if it pissed Bainbridge off or not. The doctor made him look weak in front of his subordinates. A deadly sin, as far as Gustavo was concerned.

He’d turn her over to Bainbridge—eventually. After all his men had a go at her, too. They deserved a reward for traipsing all over the rainforest to find her.