Captured by You

by Amber Hart

  “You can do better,” Clovis says.

  And I know he means with the push-ups.

  “We still on that?” I ask.

  “We’ll be on that until you do better,” he says.

  I hate Clovis and love him all at once. He wants me to be strong enough.

  “I’ll try harder,” I say, and reach for the water.

  Clovis gives it to me. Waits for me to gulp a waterfall into my mouth.

  “Punch toward the sky,” he says.

  Another way to stretch my injured arm.

  I obey. It prickles like bee stings.

  The most absurd thought hits me then.

  “I should be starting junior year,” I say softly, for only Clovis to hear.

  College was always my plan. Not an African rain forest that has scarred me for life.

  “You’re needed here,” Clovis replies.

  “It’s a good thing I hadn’t signed up for another semester yet,” I say. “Because I definitely won’t be going.”

  I wonder what Audrey and Caden are up to. Have they started classes? Are they happy? What’s junior year like? Do they think of me? I haven’t been able to call now that I’m at the compound.

  I miss Mama the most. Her smile, her laugh, even our talks. If I could call one person, it’d be her. But I’d never risk that. Using Mr. Tondjii’s phone would be disastrous. Then he’d have a link to Mama, and I will do anything to make sure that never happens.

  I imagine myself back home in Michigan, in class. Notebook open, pen in hand. Maybe I’m taking notes. Or drawing doodles because the lecture is boring. Maybe I’m studying hard and playing hard too. Going out with Audrey and Caden, blithely unaware of the life Dad had been living.

  Do I really want that?

  Some days, yes.

  Overall, no.

  I let my arm rest. Thirty seconds and I begin rotating it again.

  “Time off school is worth it,” Clovis says.

  And he’s right. A little time off is worth it for revenge on Dad’s killer.

  “I know,” I whisper. “It’s just hard. I had Mama and friends back home. Here, Dad’s gone, and now they are too.”

  Clovis nods. “You see my family, so I cannot relate. But I can tell you that a death should never be in vain.”

  It’s worth missing friends and family to carry out Dad’s plans.

  “Lift your arm up and down from the side,” Clovis instructs.

  The bee stings have turned into wasp stings.

  “If it hurts, it’s working,” Clovis says.

  I remember what the doctor said, that sometimes people lose feeling in the injured area. I don’t want to lose feeling. I push harder. Pain is acceptable. It means I can still feel.

  “Fist clenches,” Clovis says.

  He watches as I try for minutes to make a complete fist. I cannot. I catch his eye. See the optimism there.

  “Think of something pleasant,” Clovis says. “It helps the pain.”

  So I do. Surprisingly, the first thing that comes to mind is Leahcim. His coarse fur gleaming in the sun. His small and beady eyes. Fingers like my own, only large and leathery. His face, so much bigger than my own. I remember the way he painted. I smile.

  I’m still in agony. My arm is throbbing, but I’m smiling. My skin feels like it’s been stretched beyond recovery, but I press on. I open and close my fist as best as possible. Until my fingers shake. Until it’s hard to breathe. And then I do it again.

  I think about Leahcim’s enclosure at the habitat. He doesn’t like it there. He stares into the forest because that’s his true home. Does he remember who shot him? I wonder if his family was killed by the poachers. Does he miss someone out there? Is another gorilla waiting for him?

  I wonder so many things—what he’ll look like when he’s full grown, silver hair on his back to announce his maturity. He’s not old enough for that yet, but he will be in just months. His injuries are healed, and once he gains more weight, he’ll run free in the forest again.

  I think about how Leahcim watched me sign. How he signed back only when he wanted to. He has a personality, a gorilla personality. Like a human, he has preferences. He likes bananas more than grapes. Mangoes more than seeds. He has craters in his skin where poachers scarred him. But he still has his life. They couldn’t take that from him, as hard as they tried.

  “Thinking about Jospin?” Clovis asks.

  “No,” I say. “Leahcim.”

  “You’re beginning to love the apes,” he says close to my ear. “Just like your father.”

  “I love that ape.” I’m not sure about the rest yet. I do know that I don’t want them to die, though.

  “Raven,” Clovis says.

  “Yes?”

  “Look at your hand,” he whispers.

  And I’m not sure that it’s actually my hand that I’m seeing. Because it’s making a fist. Granted, it’s a loose fist. But it’s not open inches, as usual. Only centimeters. Fingers almost curled enough to touch my palm. And it hurts like crazy.

  So I laugh.

  Progress, I think.

  —

  We return to the compound to find it mostly empty, and climb the steps to the second floor. There, we briefly pause, hearing shouts in French from the floor above—Mr. and Mrs. Tondjii’s room.

  “What were they saying?” I ask Clovis, as we slide off to our room.

  I worry for a moment about Mrs. Tondjii. Is she okay in there? Would Mr. Tondjii ever hurt her?

  “She said that the business means too much to him,” Clovis replies. “That he should care more about his son. He said he doesn’t have a son anymore.” Clovis shakes his head in frustration. “I wish I could ease her worries without the threat of Mr. Tondjii. I wish we could tell her that Jospin is okay.”

  Maybe we can.

  Chapter 22

  Jospin

  I’ve been missing Raven for eighteen days. More than missing her, I’ve been worried sick about her. I’ve cut up fruit and cleaned out the gorilla sanctuary and pretended to be one of the habitat workers. I’ve cautiously entered the forest. Stayed close and hunted for meat to eat. I’ve grilled fresh game over a fire with Loriant and François. They tell me stories about the apes they save, and I pretend to care. They ask about my family, and I say I don’t have one. I lie and they laugh. I plan and they relax.

  Do they know who the spy is?

  The truth is, there are two spies. One of them is me.

  I’ve spied on Raven’s father’s things, looking for clues. I’ve tried to find something that will help Raven leave the compound. I painstakingly finished organizing and have turned my attention to reading through everything. Notebooks and random slips of paper in pages of books—the sheer amount I have to sift through is overwhelming. I’ve not learned very much, though it’s clear that Raven’s father loved her mother, that he loved the gorillas too. I’ve seen numbers for species of animals in the forest. I’ve seen data gathered on mating and feeding and behaviors of apes.

  It’s all pointless.

  What I need is incriminating information on my pack, something to lure Raven away from the compound.

  I also look for any information on the other spy. Was Raven’s father aware of who it was? I haven’t seen any evidence of it yet. Just dead ends.

  I give up on the office for the afternoon. Instead, I slip out and thread through the forest, heading toward the waterfall. I’ve gone twice already, each time hoping to see Raven. She’s never here.

  Today is different. I know as soon as I turn a corner. Around a rock and through a path of branches.

  Raven and Clovis sit together. My eyes go to Raven’s legs. Exposed and draped across a boulder in a pocket of sunshine.

  Clovis says, without looking up, “Hello, Jospin.”

  As I look at my onetime best friend, I can’t help but remember us as kids.

  —

  “Do you hear it?” I whisper in tribe dialect.

  Clovis leans his ear to the
wind and answers. “No.”

  So I help him. “The ticking. Like a clock, but softer.”

  We’re twelve, and I’ve become an excellent tracker. I’ve memorized every sound of the jungle. Clovis is good, but I am better. I can pick up on a trail a few paces before he can. I hear noises right when they sound, not upon repetition.

  “I hear it,” he says.

  And I can tell from the excitement in his eyes that he does.

  “Let’s find it,” I say.

  We do this a lot, Clovis and I. Track together. He’s getting the hang of it. I think that one day, with practice, he’ll be as proficient as I am.

  —

  “Jospin,” Raven says, jumping off the boulder. She runs to me and throws her arms around my shoulders. On her tiptoes, she reaches my lips.

  I’d like to stare at her mouth forever. She’s smiling as if I make her happy, and it brightens my world, her look. It flips a switch in me and I’m dying to taste her.

  “Raven,” I say.

  How many times have I seen her face, and yet it is never, not ever, enough.

  Her mouth collides with mine. Hot and fast. Reality fades away. In this moment, I cherish Raven. I am wrapped in this hope that she won’t stop kissing me. That Raven will never stop kissing me. That I won’t return to the habitat, and that Raven won’t return to the compound. Right now it is Raven and me and nothing else. But there is something else. There is Clovis, saying Raven’s name. Asking if she can come over to him for a minute. I keep kissing her lips, refusing to let her go. She says something.

  “One second,” she says through my kisses.

  “No.”

  She laughs. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Raven,” Clovis says again, getting to his feet.

  “Go away,” I growl to my former best friend.

  He’s ruining our moment.

  Raven pulls away. Runs over to Clovis at the water’s edge. Listens as he speaks softly into her ear. I’m already walking over to them. Noise from plunging streams drowns out his words. I don’t like how close he’s standing to Raven. I hate the way his hand rests on Raven’s lower back, as though he has some claim on her.

  Clovis sees me coming and drops his hand. His eyes stay on me, because he must know that I want to break him right now. And then I remember that Clovis probably touches my Raven often. He has a charade to keep up at the compound.

  Do his lips touch her like his hands do?

  And suddenly I’m furious.

  Clovis disappears into the trees.

  “Have you had to kiss him again?” I ask.

  She flinches. That’s all the answer I need. “Only to keep up our disguise,” she explains.

  I’m so angry I can barely contain it. Not at Raven, but at the situation. I want to take care of her. I don’t want her to pretend to belong to Clovis.

  “Did you like it?” I ask, even though I know I shouldn’t. I can’t control the jealous side of me.

  “No,” she says. There’s a quiver in her voice.

  “Do Clovis’s lips make you feel the way my lips do?” I push. I should stop. It’s not her fault.

  “Not even close,” she says. “I hate it. I feel like I am betraying you every time.”

  I study her eyes for any sign of lies. There aren’t any.

  “Good,” I say.

  “You need to stop being angry with Clovis,” Raven says.

  “I will never stop being angry with Clovis.”

  I turn to see where he went. He knows better than to come back when I’m this angry with him. Maybe he never has to come back. Maybe Raven will leave with me now.

  “Have you been followed?” I ask. “Did you escape today too?”

  I have tortured myself wondering how Father handled her disregard for his watchman.

  “No, I have a free day,” she says.

  “I don’t understand.” There are no free days when it comes to Father.

  “I’m getting close to what I need there. I’m figuring out how to handle your father. He lets us go free one day a week. It’s perfect! We’ll be able to meet more this way.”

  Impossible. But then it clicks, and I’m sick to my stomach.

  “He’s doing this to let you have time alone with Clovis, isn’t he?” I can only imagine what Clovis made him think he was doing with Raven out here in the forest in order to get him to agree. “I’m actually going to kill Clovis.”

  How many times has he kissed Raven? How was he able to convince Father that they had such a passion that it requires full days away from the compound?

  “Clovis didn’t do anything wrong. I was the one who negotiated the free day. And Clovis won’t come back—he called me over a second ago to tell me I can use the cave,” she says.

  “You don’t need his permission for that.”

  “Not that cave, Jospin,” she says, following my eyes. “There’s another cave. A secret one under the water. It’s Clovis’s spot, but he said I could tell you. That I could”—she peels off her shirt—“show you.”

  I’m staring at her bra, thinking how incredibly sexy she looks, hoping Clovis doesn’t see her like this. She removes her boots and socks next. Her shorts last.

  My pants tighten with need. I crave the taste of her as a heaviness pools in my muscles. I picture her under me, skin on skin, while I touch her the way she likes.

  “Raven,” I say, voice thick with want.

  My eyes roam her body. I strip down to my cargo shorts. I have no idea what she’s talking about with an underwater cave, but I want to go wherever she’ll take me.

  She arches her arms, ready to dive, her injured one a little less taut than the other. A splash surrounds her when she hits the surface.

  I dive in too. Raven waits for me, then kisses the water off my lips.

  “Jospin,” she says, looking down at my chest. “You don’t have the poaching pack tattoo in the center of your chest like Clovis. Why is that?”

  “How,” I say, working to keep my voice light, “do you know about pack tattoos?”

  “I’ve seen it,” she admits. “I also know because your father—” She pauses for a long moment, and it makes me wonder what is so difficult for her to say. “Your father killed a wild. He searched him for tattoos first. That was when Clovis told me that your pack wears one in the center of the chest. I had to watch—” She pauses again and works fingers through her hair nervously. “I had to watch your father kill him,” she whispers. “I watched the poor man die.”

  Her last words are barely a breath.

  Father is notorious for exacting revenge. His territory is not to be crossed. In a way, I’m glad that Raven saw. She needs to understand how lethal he is. She absolutely should be frightened by Father and what he is capable of. But, on the other hand, I’m furious at the thought of her seeing something like that. She shouldn’t ever have to witness such cruelty.

  “Where is your tattoo, Jospin?” she asks. “Why don’t you share the same mark?”

  “Because I was supposed to be the alpha,” I reply. “It was my role to fill, whenever Father decided it was time.”

  I try to say this lightly, but it’s not easy to know that I will never again be accepted as my father’s son. It was the right decision for me to save Raven, but it wasn’t easy. It still isn’t easy.

  “Alphas get a different tattoo on their chest,” I continue. “I would have had one when I took over.”

  Raven places a hand on my cheek. “Do you regret it?”

  “No.” My answer is quick and honest.

  Raven smiles and kisses me. “Take a deep breath and follow me.”

  I’m happy to be done talking about Father. She dives in and I follow. What I see is surprising. All the time I’ve lived in the jungle and never known of the small underwater hole near the bottom of the pool.

  I follow Raven through an entrance. Her feet kick bubbles around my face.

  My eyes are wide under the clear water, even when there is nothing left to see.
Darkness eventually gives way to a small light that seems more reflected than pure. My lungs ache. I feel along the surrounding walls. They’re irregular and rough but hard. A tunnel that time carved out of rock.

  Finally the narrow space opens into a small pool of water. Raven and I surface, gasping for air.

  It’s a strange feeling to find myself in an undiscovered part of the forest. Rocky walls wetly reflect light. A small natural hole in the ceiling of the cave lets in fresh air. As far as I can see, the cave is about as big as my old house but not as tall. When we exit the water, I have to crouch. We crawl to the far wall and settle down against the smooth rock there.

  Enough light from the midday sun streams through the hole to show me the color of a few surrounding rocks—gray with splashes of black. The water is perfectly clear. The bottom of the pool is as rocky as the space around us.

  And it’s silent. Just Raven’s breaths and mine in this incredible place.

  “Do you like it?” Raven asks.

  This place is a gift from Clovis, I realize. There is only one reason he would tell Raven to bring me here. He wanted to give us time alone. He’s waiting in the trees, letting me have Raven to myself.

  I want to stay mad at him. And I am, for some things. But right now, looking around this quiet escape, my anger drips away.

  “It’s perfect,” I whisper.

  Chapter 23

  Raven

  I settle into a nook between Jospin’s arm and body, both of us lying back on a stone bed. The cave is peaceful. No one here but him and me. I’ve wanted this for so long.

  Jospin nips my earlobe. Kisses my cheek.

  “I’ve missed you,” he says into my ear.

  I shiver. His touch moves over me, starting at the base of my neck, winding around my shoulder and down the soft skin of my arm.

  “Do you miss me too?” he asks.

  It sounds like, from the smile in his voice, he already knows the answer.

  “Yes.”

  Jospin turns my body so that I’m facing him. Slowly, ravenously, his eyes take in every inch of me. Stopping on my underwear, then slowly sliding farther down my body. He leans in.