Page 43

He released another guttural groan. “Why do you have to be so stubborn?”
“Me! Pot, kettle, mister.”
He turned his back to me to look across the river.
Hunter was six-foot-seven tall, sculptured in finely toned muscle. More muscle than when I’d looked after him in the hospital. I took a step closer, trying to bridge the gap between us. His trimmed beard covered a strong jawline, and his hair was a touch longer, allowing the slight wave to come through.
“Hunter, talk to me.”
He peered at me over his shoulder, and the turmoil in his expression took my breath away. “Look, Layla. If you want me to beg you to keep moving, then here I am, begging. Please, can we keep walking?”
“It’s not that I don’t want to keep walking—it’s dangerous.”
“We’ll walk along the riverbank where we can use the moonlight to see. And we’ll take it easy.”
“It’s not just that. I’m so hungry, I can’t think straight, and—”
He lifted a flap on his vest, removed a protein bar, and tossed it to me.
I caught it. “Huh. I should have known you’d be prepared.”
“If I was prepared we wouldn’t be in this mess.”
“Hey . . . you couldn’t have predicted that helicopter crash. Nobody could have.”
“Eat.” He nodded at the bar in my hands. “Then we’ll move.”
Peeling open the protein bar, I tried to keep my voice steady as I said, “I’m sorry, but I’m stiff and sore and every part of my body aches from that fall. I’m not an elite soldier like you. I can’t keep up, and on top of all that, I’m tired.”
“If there’s one thing I know, it’s that movement helps an aching body.”
I swatted an invisible mosquito from my ear and sighed. He wasn’t going to relent. Hoping I didn’t regret this decision, I said, “Okay we’ll keep walking. But only if you promise to go a bit slower. I can’t keep up with you.”
His eyes locked on mine, and in the moonlight, his stunning blue irises looked smokey gray. “That’s a promise.” His strong voice was barely audible over the rushing water and buzzing insects.
As I ate a bite of the protein bar, stewing over this decision, I removed his headlamp and handed it to him. In the filtered moonlight, a light sheen seemed to gloss his skin, giving him a heavenly glow. Hunter was a man in his prime, but his gloomy expression tore my heart out.
“I hope we don’t regret this decision. Here, want half?” I handed the rest of the protein bar to him.
He waved it away. “You have it.”
“You must be hungry.”
“Hungry, yes, but not starving. I have three more protein bars. I’ll have one when I really need it.”
“Huh, did they teach you that in the navy, to push your body to the limit?”
“Something like that. Let’s go. Watch your step.” He pointed at a vine as big as my arm that crossed over the rock between us and disappeared over the cliff.
He offered his hand.
With half the protein bar eaten, I tucked the rest into my shorts pocket and took his hand. Our fingers intertwined, and it felt so natural like we’d been holding hands forever.
Hunter led the way, scanning the darkness around us. Insects buzzed in my ears and moths collided with my cheeks and eyes, adding to the disorientation of the night. The jungle was alive with sounds and smells, some fresh and special, some not so much. Every step crossed an obstacle of overgrown plants and slippery rocks, and the air was thick with moisture and humidity.
On our left-hand side, the river churned, and every once in a while, a splash hinted at the unknown dangers lurking beneath its surface.
Hunter grunted and jerked back, scraping his hands down his face. “Fucking spider web.” As he peeled the sticky mess from his face, something rustled in the bushes beside us.