Derrick came hustling out from where the man had emerged. “That guy tried to steal my bag…well, your bag.”
“What?”
He nodded, out of breath. “Yeah. Was saying the same thing as the guy that chased us through the streets of Lima. Asking for the bag. Bolso.”
My heat started to pound inside my chest. “Holy shit, how’d they find us up here?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know, but whatever they think you have, it’s seriously important.”
The sweet little Quechua lady pulled on the sleeve of my sweater. “Senorita? Miss?”
I turned to look at her, giving Derrick a pleading look, hoping that he’d be able to translate for us. I nodded at her, encouraging her to continue.
She started speaking, and even if I spoke Spanish I probably wouldn’t have been able to understand her. The woman spoke faster than an auctioneer.
“What’d she say?” I asked, after watching Derrick nod.
“She says we’ll be attacked again if we leave. That the guy is waiting for us. She’s offered up her son to drive us to the hostel.”
I gaped at him. “How the heck did you manage to decipher that? She’s speaking a million miles a minute.”
He grinned. “I only caught about every fifth word, but I think I got the gist.” The woman pointed at the doorway, and a few seconds later an SUV pulled up, and a young Peruvian man, perhaps eighteen or so, jumped out.
“Hola.” He smiled, walking inside the little store, clutching his phone. “I am Diego. Would you like a ride?” I hadn’t noticed before, but the Quechua woman had her phone in her hand. Had she texted her son? Otherwise, how had he arrived so fast?
But she just smiled and nodded, shooing us toward her son with her hand.
Derrick and I exchanged looks. Could we trust them? What if they were in cahoots with the people who were after us? Oh God, now I was paranoid, thinking every Peruvian we met was after us.
“Should we?” I asked, not wanting to be rude, but also not sure if getting into a random SUV with a random person was such a good idea.
He let out a heavy sigh, his eyes shifting back and forth between the little Quechua lady and her son Diego. And he nodded. “I’m not sure we have a choice. We have to trust someone.”
“But he was waiting for us in here.”
While we were trying to figure out whether to trust these people or not, Diego was speaking to his mother.
“Excuse me,” Diego interrupted. “My mother wants me to tell you that the man who attacked your husband, he came in the back. We do not know him. And I was just outside in my car. I dropped my nephew back off at his mother’s house and am just returning to the store now.”
I nodded. “Thank you.” Okay, so their story checks out…kind of. Did we have any other choice at this point? There were no cabs available. If we walked Derrick would either keel over, and we’d be rushed back to the hospital, or we’d be mugged and possibly shanked in the streets, left for dead in some back alley. Oh God, now my mind was getting away from me.
Diego just gave me a patient smile. Could he read my mind?
I turned to Derrick. “It’s probably safer to catch a ride with Diego than walk. We don’t really have any other choice.”
His hand rested on my shoulder, and I noticed that his face was drawn down into a frown of discomfort. He was in pain. We had to leave; he should not be walking up such a hill having just been released from the hospital.
Derrick looked at Diego. “Okay, let’s go. We’re staying at Travesura.”
Diego nodded.
But I threw on the brakes. “Just a second.” And then I picked up the sweater I’d been admiring and turned to the Quechua lady. “Cuánto cuesta?” Two of the twenty Spanish words I knew.
She smiled. “Treinta y ocho.”
Crap, ocho was eight, what was treinta? Thirteen? Thirteen eight, what kind of amount was that?”
“Thirty-eight sols,” Derrick said quietly.
“Thirty-eight?”
“That’s about fifteen Canadian.” He took the sweater from me and studied it. “Seems fair if you ask me. It’s pretty decent quality. Looks like it will keep you warm.”
Hastily I fished my wallet out of my small purse and counted out the correct amount. I’d never been one for haggling, mostly because I was terrible at it. I was pleased that the woman didn’t ask an exorbitant price in an attempt to fleece me. So far, she seemed to be playing by the rules. So far, she seemed trustworthy.
I handed over the money, and she took it with another rosy-cheeked smile, asking for the sweater from me, only to fold it up and put it in a plastic bag. And then she turned around behind her to where a stack of hand-woven scarves lay folded in neat rows. She turned back to look at me and then back to the scarves, finally selecting a bright blue one, almost turquoise in color, with flecks of gold scattered throughout. And with another smile and a wink, she stuffed it into the bag, too.
“Regalo.” She nodded, handing me back the bag.
“It means gift,” Diego said.
I took the bag from her. “Gracias.” Meanwhile, sudden tears pricked the corner of my eyes, and I hastened to wipe them away.
“All right, we must go,” Diego said with a rush to his voice. “The man who attacked your husband, he could come back, and he could bring more people. We need to get you to the safety of your hostel now.” He quickly ushered us into the back of his waiting SUV.
We made our way up the steep incline toward the hostel. Derrick didn’t look very good, and I struggled with the idea of asking Diego to turn around and take us back to the hospital. But when he pulled up alongside the familiar red-painted door, with the brass plaque out front that said “Travesura Hostel International,” all I wanted to do was jump out, slam the front door and go hide under my bed.
“Here,” Diego said, handing me a card. “If you need help, or a ride again, you call me, okay?”
We thanked him and tried to offer him money, but he shook his head. “First ride is free. Next ride I charge you, okay?”
We laughed, and then thanked him again before quickly opening the door and flashing our wristbands at the camera. We were back inside the fortress in a matter of moments, breathing a small sigh of relief and a big thank you to Diego and his mother. Who knows what would have happened to us if they hadn’t helped?
When we finally got back to our room, I was at a bit of a loss as to what to do next. The last twenty-four hours had been an adrenaline-filled, rickety old wooden roller coaster in the dark. It was all the worst rides at all the major theme parks rolled into one. And now, after a series of unexpected and terrifying loop-de-loops and plummets, we found ourselves back at the starting gate, but with wilder hair than when we left and our lunch threatening to revolt back up and onto the floor.
I sat down on the bed, my bag from Diego’s mother between my legs sitting on the floor. I didn’t know what to do next. Should we even be going to Machu Picchu? Was it worth the risk? Someone was clearly after me for something. Was I safe anywhere anymore? It was only a matter of time before they sent someone into the hostel to steal my bag or tear it apart. Perhaps I’d just be better off handing it over when they asked, being rid of it, then I’d finally be rid of whomever it was that was following me.
Derrick came over and sat beside me. “You okay?”
I couldn’t say anything. Compared with him, I was right as rain. He’d just been in the hospital, poked and prodded as if he were some prize steer at the county fair. Not to mention, apparently he had some parasite trying to turn his insides to mush, so even though I couldn’t have been further from okay, I wasn’t about to let him know that.
I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat and nodded. “Yeah…I’m fine.”
He wasn’t buying it. A finger came up under my chin. “Piper…”
It was the eyes, those soul-piercing, heart-melting eyes. Like the sky right before a harsh and beautiful storm. I couldn’t lie to him any more t
han I could lie to myself, and then I crumpled against him, and the tears came. They came on like a monsoon until I was a snotty, blubbering mess in his lap, my whole body convulsing in wracking sobs as the emotions from the last several days all came to a head.
“It’s okay.” He hummed softly as he pet my head, while I continued to weep in his lap. “Everything is going to be okay. We’ll figure it out. I won’t let anything happen to you. You’re safe with me, okay?”
I lifted my head and wiped my wrist beneath my nose. I must have looked awful, and I said as much.
He chuckled. “You look beautiful.”
“You’re just saying that. I’m an absolute mess.”
His finger was back under my chin. “Listen to me. It’s going to be okay. We’ll get this thing sorted. Getting away to Machu Picchu tomorrow might be a good thing. Give us some time to figure things out. I highly doubt whoever is after you is going to send a lackey all the way to Aguas Calientes to track you down. They’ll just wait until you come back here, if anything.”
I rolled my eyes. “Oh great, a welcome-back party.”
He laughed. “It’s going to be okay.”
I nodded and let out a big exhale. “I hope you’re right.”
Then something happened. The air in the room changed, and I was no longer tired, no longer scared or nervous or drained from the loss of adrenaline. I was aroused. And I could see that Derrick was, too. As if someone had pumped pheromones in through the vents, the room was thick with the need for sex. We eyed each other as if the other were a choice cut of meat, ready to be devoured.
His hand came up, and he brushed a strand of hair off my face. It was the simplest of gestures and the lightest of touches, but it was enough to send a surge of electricity jolting through my body.
“Y-you just got out of the hospital.” Needing him so badly I could practically taste him, but not wanting to compromise his recovery.
His mouth turned up into a sinister smirk. “Doctor never said there was anything wrong with my cock, just my gut.”
I laughed. Touché.
“We don’t have to if you don’t want to.” That same hand started to slowly travel down my arm, dragging the strap of my tank top along with it. “If you’re too tired or too… upset.”
I rolled my bottom lip between my teeth. “I want to… I want to so badly.” I reached for him. He covered me, pinning me to the mattress beneath him. “You make me feel safe,” I breathed, as his hands began to peel away my clothes slowly.
A masculine growl rumbled through his chest as his teeth found my nipple. “I want to make you feel other things too.” He gave the needy bud a nice hard tug. I hissed in appreciation. “I want to make you feel good. I want to make you feel worshiped and satiated. I want your whole body to ache from having been fucked to within an inch of your sanity.”
Oh God, yes, please.
“I want to make you forget your name because you’ve come so many times screaming mine.”
Yes.
“I want to make you mine.”
Wait, what? But I didn’t have any time to think about that last statement, because the man whose proclamations left me lightheaded and tingling was kneeling up before me, naked and hard and poised to fuck.
I licked my lips at the sight of him. God, he was fucking perfect and perfect at fucking. I thought for sure he was going to order me up onto my knees, taking me from behind like the animal that he was. But instead, he assumed my position on the bed between the pillows.
“You’re on top.” He grinned, reaching for me. “I’m not sure if you’ve been on top yet, and I’d like for you to try. Most of the time I’ve been too consumed with fucking you senseless, and I just hammer you into mattresses or up and against the wall until you come. But now I want you to set the pace. I want to watch your tits jiggle as you ride me.”
I swung one leg over his body, straddling him, his cock pressing on my core, demanding sanctuary. I lifted up onto my knees and used my hand to help guide him home, moaning as he filled me, split me open and made room for himself inside me.
He bared his teeth and grinned, his hands coming down to my hips and urging me to begin rocking. “You’re so beautiful. So fucking beautiful.”
I bent down over his body, so we were kind of in reverse missionary. His pelvic bone ground against my clit while my nipples rubbed his chest. Everything felt really good, and I wasn’t going to last long. And then he did something very unexpected, at least unexpected for the moment.
His hand left my hip, and he cupped my face, our eyes locking as I rode him. “You’re safe, Piper. I won’t let anything bad happen to you… I promise. Okay?” A runaway tear sprinted its way down my cheek, but he quickly wiped it with his thumb and brought my mouth down to his, murmuring again against my lips. “You’re safe with me.”
CHAPTER 12
The next morning, we were picked up and packed away into a big van, with probably fifteen or so other Machu Picchu-destined tourists of varying age and ethnicity. We chose to leave our big backpacks at the hostel and just stuff enough necessities in our day bags (I’d had to buy a new one, seeing as my other bag had been stolen in Lima). Derrick, of course, had his camera bag as well, and I my purse, but otherwise we packed very lightly compared to the other passengers. I noticed a fair few rolling suitcases and even trunks stuffed into the back of the big bus.
It was a treacherous trip if I’d ever been on one, around mountains and cliffs, where there was nothing between us and the life-ending hundred-foot drops over the side into a ravine or a river. We passed snow-capped peaks and rolling hills, with random plots of inhabited farmland, or a tiny town made up of a few shacks and a corner store or a restaurant out in the middle of what seemed like nowhere. We stopped once for lunch, and then once again on the side of the road so everyone could pee. At first, I hadn’t understood why we were stopping. But then when the bus driver pointed at the dilapidated old shack just six feet off the highway, with a gaping hole in the ground inside, and a roll of soggy toilet paper sitting on the floor beside it, I realized I was supposed to pee inside that building. What the actual fuck?
And that wasn’t the weirdest part of it, oh, no. I watched as all the men on the bus wandered off in random directions, facing the bushes or a random tree. To the untrained or ignorant eye, it might look as though they were simply admiring nature, or pondering the wonders of the universe, but we all knew what was really going on. But the women, we were not nearly as lucky, forced to line up for this solitary three-walled shack, with a hole in the ground to do our business; all the while a little Quechua lady with a colorful hat, braids, and a floor-length skirt was collecting money. We had to PAY her to use her hole in the ground!
I shook my head when I realized what was going on, fury tasting acrid on my tongue. Like hell was I paying to use a hole on the ground, walls or no walls. I didn’t have to pee that bad, I’d hold it!
And hold it I did. Boy, did I hold it. It was another hour or so, maybe two — time seemed irrelevant and thus no longer really existed when our bus narrowly missed falling off the cliff and down into an icy river — to our dropping-off point. It was a place known (though I don’t think that was the actual name of the town) as Hydroelectrica. And when the bus finally stopped and everyone bailed off, I ran like a cheetah to the nearest bush where I copped a squat and peed, FOR FREE!
From Hydroelectrica we were told to follow the train tracks but stay off of them, as the train did still run, and that would take us to Aguas Calientes, also known as Machu Picchu Town. Fortunately, it wasn’t raining, and it was a flat walk through the bushes, with nothing but chatter and excitement for the following day’s adventures fueling us forward.
When we finally got to Aguas Calientes, my mouth dropped open. It was something you would expect to find in a whimsical fantasy movie, or where the trolls or elves in a fairy tale lived. It was set deep in a valley with a river rushing right through the middle and high, looming, rocky mountains threatening to close
in all around, while the train tracks ran right through the center along the river. I found it positively magical. I actually did a little hop and skip as we made our way up through the narrow streets, with open concept restaurants and shops inviting you in, cobblestone paths and stairs, hanging awnings and big flower pots lining the paths to keep you from falling onto the train tracks.
We checked into our hotel and dumped our stuff in the room, deciding to take advantage of the last few hours of daylight and explore the city. Aguas Calientes might not be very big, but we quickly learned that it was confusing as hell. A series of bridges connected both sides of the town over the narrow river with its fast current and white water, while small side streets suddenly led to local markets and, if you kept walking, morphed into promenades with even more stores and restaurants, convenience stores and massage parlors. We wandered through one of the many markets, with rows and rows of stalls, shopkeepers selling everything you could imagine and more. Scarves and toques, blankets and bags, magnets and carved figures of alpacas, it was the tourist and souvenir enthusiast’s dream.
We made our way back up from the market toward our hotel, stopping in at a restaurant whose menu out front boasted lots of local dishes at reasonable prices, which according to the walking, talking tour guide I also let share my bed, was rare. Most restaurants in Aguas Calientes charged roughly double what they would in Cusco, because everything had to be brought in by train.
“Oh, my God,” Derrick said, turning his nose up while making a face as though he might suddenly gag. We were sipping wine and watching the world go by from our seats. The small street was filled with tourists and locals wandering around; it was so much fun to people-watch, even if the majority of the people were tourists just like us.
“What? What’s wrong?”
He shook his head. “I grew up on a cattle ranch, I’m a carnivore, but that’s just not right. I guess we know why this place was so reasonably priced.”
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