Jesus fuck. Can’t we catch even one break?
Ava gasps and raises the gun but then lowers it almost immediately.
“What?” I mouth and reach in to grab the machete I took from Afonso.
“They’re kids,” she whispers in horror.
I lift my hands, knife clenched in one, and turn around slowly.
And see a band of boys, tense and dirty. The tallest one is about ten inches shorter than me. He’s not holding the semiautomatic, though. That would be his friend to the right, who is about Ava’s height but has good muscle tone. From the look of his face and hair growth, though, this kid is just out of puberty. He might be thirteen, if that.
The rest of the kids range from ten to thirteen and they are armed to the hilt, looking like boy soldiers from Uganda. Their dark skin is decorated with homemade tattoos and belts of ammunition. Whatever happened to the good old days when natives were armed with homemade spears and wore leaves around their groins? Now they have more guns than a survivalist camp in Utah and wear cargo pants where they store a dozen more magazines for their toys.
Too bad he isn’t holding a handgun on me. I’d flip that shit on his face so fast, he’d forget he even knew how to hold a gun. But a semi with a bullet in the chamber at this close range? I’d likely be shot in the other eye.
“Do you speak Spanish?” I ask with my hands still raised.
The leader turns to the tall boy next to him, who nods.
“Who are you?” Tall Boy asks.
He doesn’t want to know my name. He wants to know if I present a danger to him. I do. I’m six feet five inches of muscle with seventeen years of killing to my name. Even if one of these children does get a shot off, I have the ability to take them all to hell with me. But I’m no kid killer. I never was.
I take a risk. When we were in Rio, the Tears of God favela was well known. People from all over sought refuge there. We became known for not only meting out vengeance but providing a safe haven for others, too. No matter what your past was, so long as you could prove to us you had changed or presented no danger to the community, you were welcome.
I lower my hands and then turn my right biceps toward the group. Once you are part of the Tears of God, you receive a tattoo. It’s a large stylized eye with a knife spearing a teardrop beneath it. Everyone has one—every man, woman, and every child over the age of thirteen. Mine is crude because Davidson did it with a knife and ink for a fountain pen when we escaped the desert where we’d formulated our plans.
“I am from the Tears of God. You touch us and the entire world will become blanketed with death. You will die, your mother will die. Every person who is related to you will be dust and even heaven itself will forget you. Help me and I will do everything in my power to destroy your enemies and give you aid when you need it.”
Tall Boy’s eyes widen. He turns to his friend and starts speaking swiftly. I catch a word or two. They are speaking a variant of Spanish. Special Forces required you to pick up several languages depending on where the government thought you would do your best work. I didn’t know enough to speak but I could understand.
“He . . . Tears of God . . . help us . . . enemies.”
“What’s going on?” Ava asks.
“I told him that I would hurt him if he hurt us and that I’d help him if he helped us.”
“That’s good,” she says with approval. “But you really aren’t going to hurt them, right?”
“I don’t want to.” But in a battle between keeping Ava safe and hurting these boys? Yes, I’d do that. I just don’t want it to come to that. Right now they’re distracted and I could disarm one and down the others, but a stray bullet could hit Ava.
The two boys finish their conversation and the tall one turns back. He jerks his handgun downstream. “You come help us clean our village and we will let you go.”
“What’d he say?”
“He wants us to come to their village and clean.”
“Like do their laundry? Clean their bathrooms?” She sounds confused.
“I suspect cleaning the village means something other than sweeping the floors of their homes. Duval has to be monitoring the flight. The purse must have a tracking signal. When the plane didn’t land, he probably fired up a GPS tracker and sent out scout troops to retrieve the case. These boys’ village must be the closest form of civilization to the crash site. Given that we haven’t heard them in the jungle, they must have just landed and started occupying the village.”
“Oh shit. That’s bad, right?”
“Maybe. My men are following Duval, which means if Duval’s mercenaries are there, Garcia should be hot on their trail.” I turn to the boys. “How many men came to your home?”
The tall boy holds up eight fingers. “Only eight, but too many guns. They kill chief and two others and then everyone surrenders.” He raises both arms and then lowers them. “We were gone hunting and returned to see home under attack.”
“My woman needs to be kept safe. Can you do that while I come with you and clean your home?”
The tall boy translates and the leader nods.
Eight men. I have the AK Ava found in the boat, this kid’s semiautomatic, five children and my woman to protect. I scrub a hand down my face and turn to deliver the news to Ava.
CHAPTER TWENTY
AVA
“You what?”
The look on Rafe’s face is grim. “I told them I’d go into their village, help them get rid of the mercenaries, and when it’s safe, we’ll call for you.” He hefts the gun we got from the boat. “Should be a lot easier with this baby.”
I just stare at him like he’s crazy. “Rafe, you’re falling apart. You’re in no condition to go raiding a village.” Wasn’t it just yesterday that I cauterized a stab wound and rebandaged his eye for him? The eye he can’t see out of?
“We don’t have a lot of choices,” Rafe tells me. He tilts his head, gesturing at the armed boys behind us. “They’re our best option. And if we can get into that village, we can get a real place to sleep for the night, and safety. And we can make it back to civilization in the morning.”
All of those things sound wonderful. More than wonderful. But the fact of the matter is that I’m scared. Rafe’s not in peak condition at the moment. Hell, I’m not, either. I’m so tired and icky feeling that I could fall over and go to sleep for an entire day. Maybe two. I can’t imagine what he feels like.
And he wants to go raid a village?
“I should be the one going,” I tell him.
He stares at me, incredulous. “I’m the mercenary.”
“You’re also the one with the stab wound in your back.”
His mouth twitches as if he’s trying to hide amusement. “I’m also dressed.”
I cross my arms, refusing to feel weird about being in my bra and panties. “I was swimming a river, thank you very much. And you didn’t mind how I looked five minutes ago. I saw you checking me out.”
“Five minutes ago, I didn’t feel weird about having an erection. In front of child mercenaries I do.”
Good point. “I still don’t think you should go in.”
Rafe holds the gun out to me. “Do you know how to use this?”
“You just pull the trigger, right?”
His eyebrows go up. “And if it jams? Or you need to reload?”
He’s got a point. About the only thing I’d be good with, weapon-wise, is the paddle in the boat. “Okay, fine. If you have to go in, you have to go in. But I’m going with you.”
“No, you’re staying here.”
“Rafe, goddamn it, I am not—”
“Ava, if I have to worry about your safety, I’m not going to be able to do what needs to be done.”
“How do you think I feel?” I exclaim. “I’m going to be worried sick over you!”
His expression softens and I catch him gazing at my mouth. “Are you?”
That husky note that returns to his voice makes my nipples prick with awareness.
They’re all, Oh, hello Ava, not so tired now are we? I cross my arms over my chest to hide them. “So I’m supposed to just sit out here in the jungle with my thumb up my ass?”
“No, you’re going to sit out here and wait for the all clear. And if it doesn’t come, you get the hell outta Dodge. You understand?”
“Can I just point out how much I hate this plan?”
“You can, but it doesn’t mean we have a better one.”
Hell.
• • •
Ten minutes later, Rafe leaves despite my protests, and I’m left with two boys on this side of the river. They have guns and speak a form of Spanish, and spend a lot of time staring at my breasts, even after I get dressed again. Boys. Typical.
They offer me some fruit to eat, though, and I scarf it down while they talk quietly among themselves and laugh at my manners. One comments on my hand, gesturing at my awkward-looking pinky.
“What, are you a medic?” I ask him. I doubt it, but I show him anyhow.
He says something and gestures at my wrist, then at my pinky. I shrug in answer. I don’t know what he’s saying. “It’s just swollen.”
He taps his cheek and points at my eyes. “Ow?” he asks.
Oh. He thinks I’ve hurt my eye, like Rafe. I shake my head. I know my eyes look strange to most people. I have one green one and one very dark brown one, and it’s unsettling to a lot of people that see me at first glance, because when my pupils are dilated, my brown eye can look very dark indeed. “Not hurt,” I say with a shake of my head. “They’re just like that.”
He starts to say something else, but we’re interrupted by the distant sound of gunfire. Our friendly smiles fade.
We’ve just been reminded that across the river, Rafe and the other kids are risking their lives.
I can’t relax after that. The fruit in my belly churns sickly. I think of Rafe, wounded. Is he safe? Is he misjudging things with one eye covered, and one of the bad guys is getting the drop on him? Is he going to die a virgin with that hungry look in his eyes?
Am I never going to get to experience that hunger for myself?
There’s more gunfire in the distance, and the kids look worried. Rafe can take care of himself, I mentally chide my worried mind. He’s done this sort of thing before.
It doesn’t matter. I’ve made a deal with myself. If he comes back safe, I’m going to fuck the hell out of that guy when we get back to civilization. If we weren’t in this crazy situation, I’d say I’m falling for him.
But I can’t, because I have to save Rose.
Time passes slowly, and it gets later and later. I hear the sounds of the jungle, and the buzz of bugs. They bite the hell out of me, but the kids at my side aren’t affected nearly as much. They must like my pasty skin better. We don’t have a fire, and I don’t ask for one. I’m guessing things are touch and go, because the kids keep their guns at hand and they constantly watch the edges of our encampment.
It’s late and despite the worry gnawing on me even more than the bugs, I’m drowsy and tired. I’m half asleep when someone starts crashing through the brush. Both boys jump to their feet, alert, and I grab my paddle, ready to swat anyone that comes near.
A voice calls out in the darkness, and the boys run forward, guns clutched.
“What?” I cry. “What is it?” Did we lose? Oh fuck. What do I do if Rafe is gone?
Oh fuck. If Rafe is gone . . . the thought fills me with despair, and not just about my situation. If Rafe is gone, he’ll never smile at me again. Never give me one of those hungry looks. Never touch me tenderly. Never grab Godzilla when he thinks I’m not looking.
I don’t know what I’m going to do if Rafe is gone. The thought is staggering to me. How is it that he’s become so much to me so quickly? Rose is the one that gives her heart away—I’m the practical, jaded one.
But not, it seems, when it comes to Rafe.
As if my thoughts have conjured him from the jungle, a figure appears in the night shadows. He’s tall and muscular, but I see the dirty fabric of the eye patch before anything else, and I choke back a sob of relief.
“Rafe!” I launch myself forward and fling my arms around his neck. “Oh my God! Are you hurt? Is everything all right?”
“Everything’s fine,” he says, and his voice is weary. His arm goes protectively around my waist, though. “We took care of the village,” he tells me. “There were some casualties. A few boys got too eager.” There’s sadness in his voice. “Eight of the enemy dead.”
“You got all eight of them?” I’m elated at first, and then I picture it. Eight men with guns, and Mendoza went in with a few schoolboys and one rifle? I smack his arm. “Goddamn you, that’s so fucking dangerous!”
“It had to be done.”
It did, and I know he did it for these boys, so they wouldn’t have to live under the thumb of asshole warlords with guns. He did it because he’s a good guy that wants the good guys to win. And he did it for me. I know that as surely as I know he’d do it all over again.
It’s who he is. And I love that about him.
It’s why I put my hands on the sides of his face and kiss his mouth, hard. I mash my lips against his, tasting sweat, and dirt, but also . . . Rafe.
He stiffens under me, and I don’t know if it’s from surprise or if it’s because I’m being completely inappropriate. I don’t care. All I know is that I desperately need him to kiss me back, right fucking now. So I part my lips and slide my tongue along the seam of his, coaxing him to open up underneath me. To give me a chance.
Rafe groans and his arms tighten around me. The gun drops to the ground and then his hands are moving all over my back, as if he needs to touch me everywhere he can. My tongue glides into his mouth, and I’m met by his hungry one. Everything about Rafe is hungry and wild with need, and it makes me crazy with lust, too. I kiss him roughly, my tongue flicking against his, encouraging him to fuck my mouth with his tongue, to show me his intent.
His hand tangles in my hair and holds me in place, and then he takes me in the deepest, wettest, sultriest kiss I’ve ever had. I feel like his tongue is going places no tongue has ever gone, and it makes me weak in the knees. By the time we break apart, I feel like I’m the one that just conquered a village—I’m exhausted but utterly triumphant.
We’re both breathing hard.
“What was that for?” Rafe asks.
“For coming back safe for me,” I tell him, and cling to his chest for a little bit longer, just because I can. “Do me a favor and don’t leave me behind again, okay?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
RAFAEL
“I promise not to leave you behind with boy soldiers in the jungle again.”
She rolls her eyes at my specific promise but doesn’t move. I lean down and capture her mouth again. We are sweaty, smelly, mud-covered creatures but I’ve never tasted anything better than her mouth. She kisses me back, her mouth opening wider under mine. Her tongue is bold and hot. I can’t stop from growling, which apparently is a good thing, because she presses closer to me, so close that my painfully aroused dick is carving a divot in her stomach. I try to move away but she drags me closer.
“No, I want it. I want you,” she moans against my lips.
And that breaks me. I haul her roughly against me, my hands on her ass lifting her so that the juncture of her legs rubs my granite-hard cock. She responds by wrapping her legs around my waist and then grinding against me.
I hold her tightly to me. Not even a leaf could fit in between the two of us. My hand digs into her hair to grip her scalp while my other arm is an iron band around her waist. I spread my legs for balance and allow her to ride me.
Her heels dig into the small of my back and it’s that tiny pain that keeps me from coming in my pants.
A distant shout pierces the fogged lust of my brain and I’m reminded that we are still in the middle of the Amazon jungle, covered in mud and not yet out of harm’s way. With a herculean effort, I break away from her hot
mouth.
She stares down at me, her hands clutched around my neck. “Why’d you stop?”
“Because we’re in the middle of the jungle, baby.”
Her legs tighten around my waist at my use of an endearment.
“I want you,” she repeats.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” I’d kill myself before I’d harm even a hair on her head.
“You won’t¸” she assures me. “It’s going to be good. I’ll be gentle.” An impish grin settles on her face.
I tug on her hair lightly, reminding her I’ve got several inches and at least a hundred pounds on her. “It’s not you I’m worried about.”
She places a finger on my lips. “You are not going to hurt me. Do you trust me?”
I nod because my tongue’s down my throat. “Before . . . before we get Godzilla out, I want to eat your pussy. I need to feel you come all over me, just once.” Before I ruin it.
She shivers. “It’s going to be awesome.”
“We’ll be in a hotel by sundown,” I swear. “And I’m going to save Rose for you.”
“You will? How?” Her eyes widen and her fuck-me lips fall open. I resist the temptation to kiss her again. I have a feeling the shout came from Garcia and that he’ll be on us in a minute.
I let her drop slowly to the ground. There’s a barely formulated plan in the back of my head, but I can’t stop now that she’s staring at me like I’ve hung the moon.
“Duval has been using her to keep you in check, so he’s got to be keeping her close, and there’s no way this buy goes down without him being directly involved. The buyers wouldn’t stand for it.”
“You really think she’s here?”
“I bet my good eye she’s in Pucallpa right now with Duval and they’re waiting for this to be returned.” I kick the bag at my feet.
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