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CHAPTER ELEVEN

Violet

“Well, uh, scam or not… could we maybe go inside of it?”

There was a particularly large ant hanging around our feet. And, sure, maybe it wasn’t one of the ones that wanted to cause searing pain for a full day, but I didn’t exactly want to take that chance either.

“Yeah. I want pictures anyway,” Wick said, snapping a dozen of the outside of the strange, bean-like structure.

It really was shaped like a bean, poking out of the dense trees and foliage. Squat, brown, with full glass windows across the front and solar panels on the roof.

I knew it was supposedly a scam building, but maybe it had water. Or a way to charge my phone.

I really wished I’d gotten a chance to take a picture of the cool little mustached monkey. My cousins would lose their minds over him.

“How do we get to it?” I asked, squinting up at the bean.

Marco, our punishing, silent guide, was sitting a few yards away, peeling an orange he must have had in his pocket—since he’d opted not to have a backpack like Wick and I had.

I never thought I’d crave an orange. But the ones on Isla Perdita were the best I’d ever had. And I was more than a little dehydrated.

“There should be stairs right… there,” Wick said, pushing some thick vines out of the way to reveal a set of warped wooden stairs leading up to the bean.

“Those look… iffy.”

“Definitely not how they looked in the brochures. I’m guessing those were edited to make them look more accessible. You go first.”

“Oh, sure. Make me fall through the shoddy stairs.”

“I was thinking more that if you slip, I can catch you. But if you want—” he said, charging forward.

I was starting to think Wick was getting to know me better than I realized. Because he absolutely knew what to say to make me take the lead.

Up close, the steps weren’t as bad as they appeared. I mean, they were no modern marvels and the treads were warped and slippery in spots, but they didn’t crumble under my feet or anything.

I grabbed hold of some of the vines in lieu of railings. Even if some small part of me kind of wanted to slip and fall into Wick’s arms.

Fine.

More than a small part of me.

Luckily, the higher we climbed, the less I wanted to take chances on his reflexes. Or, you know, send us both crashing down to the ground.

“I need to use that stair machine at the gym more,” I said when we reached the top and I was struggling to catch my breath. “My cousins always go straight to them. Probably why they have such great asses. But I could never make myself get on them.”

“What’s your machine of choice?” Wick asked. I took a small bit of comfort in the fact that he was a bit out of breath too.

“The bike. Preferably recumbent. So, what makes these so eco-friendly? Aside from the solar?”

“The solar that isn’t even hooked up, you mean?” he asked, reaching toward the side of the building where a thick wire was just dangling down, not connected to anything. “They are all supposed to have composting toilets and gray water that go from the sinks and showers back into the environment. So everyone has to use very specific products. You know, if anyone actually ever stayed here.”

With that, Wick reached for the door.

“Why lock something they don’t give a shit about?” he grumbled.

“This is where I come in handy,” I said, pushing him out of my way as I went into his pack, digging around until I got to his first aid kit, using a few of the various little tools inside to pick the lock.

“Are you allowed to do that in your line of work?”

“Not really, no. But who would ever know? After you,” I said, pushing the door in and waving an arm out.

I followed, looking around at the tiny space that featured a bed, the smallest kitchen known to mankind, and a little postage-stamp-sized bathroom. The kind with the drain in the center of the floor and no delineation between the shower and the rest of the bathroom. I was no expert or anything, but that seemed like hell to clean.

Honestly, for how tiny it was, it was pretty nice. Dark floors, floor-to-ceiling windows that gave amazing views of the rainforest, even nice linens on the bed.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Wick warned as I went and let myself lower back.

I mean, if the place wasn’t being used, it didn’t matter if I got my sweat and dirt from the hike on the bedding.

“You just take your little pictures. I’ll take a nice nap.”

Of course, though, there weren’t exactly a lot of things to take pictures of. So before I could even get comfortable, Wick was declaring we should get going.

“But look, a bed,” I said, running my hand over the linens.

“Yeah, duchess. That’s part of the problem.”

He was quick to turn away. But not before I got to see the heat in his eyes—warm enough to burn through several layers of clothes.

I was suddenly resentful of Marco’s presence. And, you know, my whole ‘I can’t have sex with a skip’ mindset. Because rolling around on this particular bed with that view a few feet away—even if it was teeming with creepy crawlers—sounded amazing.

Before the desire could spark into a full-blown wildfire through my system, I climbed off the bed, exhaled hard, then followed Wick outside.

“Hear something?” Wick asked when I stopped, head tipped to the side.

“It’s probably nothing,” I said, shrugging it off. “Or maybe just the insects getting together to form an army to take us out.”

“Gird your intestines,” Wick teased, making a little laugh escape me. “Okay, this time, I go down first.”

“So if I slip, I can use your body to cushion my fall?”

To that, his lips twitched.

“That is the idea.”

“If the insect army comes, I’m tossing you at them and running for my life.”

“Naturally,” Wick agreed, carefully making his way down.

There was another crunching sound that had my heartbeat racing. I mean, I wasn’t an idiot; I didn’t genuinely think the insects were going to do anything to us. I mean, I wasn’t writing it off, but it seemed unlikely. And these parts were full of various critters. Including lots of different primates.

That said, something was making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

I tried to brush it off, to focus on my footing, to imagine the tacos and coffee I was going to binge-eat when all this was over.

But the further down we went, the more the occasional crunch set my nerves on edge.

Gut instincts and adrenaline were valuable assets in my profession.

And they were both to thank for how quickly I moved when I first saw it.

The muzzle of a semiautomatic peeking out from between some greenery.

“Down!” I yelled, pushing Wick right off the damn steps, then jumping with him.

He landed a split second before me, just as the bullets rang out in the woods.

Somewhere above, a red parrot took flight, squawking his objections to the very human intrusion of his home.

Off in the distance, strange shrieks and hoots sounded.

Monkeys, maybe?

“What—”

“We have to run,” I said, getting into a squat. Wick followed as another couple of shots fired off.

“Shouldn’t we stay put?”

“No. It’s hard to hit a moving target. We have to run.” His face said he wasn’t convinced. “Look, when it comes to guns, just trust me, okay? Those have tons of rounds. Our only chance of survival is running as far and fast as we can.”

He held my gaze just a second as a bullet whizzed right past my head to lodge in the tree behind me.

Then he held out his hand.

I slipped mine in.

And we ran for our freaking lives.

Gone were thoughts of beetles the size of small automobiles, or spiders so large that I could probably count their eyelashes.

All there was in the world was survival.

Adrenaline surged through my system, making me oblivious to the burn in my thighs as I pushed myself harder and faster, trying to keep up with Wick as he kept a few steps ahead of me with his long-ass legs.

The gunshots hailed for the first moment or two before stopping as, I imagined, the shooters came to the same conclusion that I had—it’s too hard to hit a moving target. Especially if you were moving too.

Their best bet for a kill shot was to hold their bullets, chase after us, and take a shot when we stopped to catch our breath or drink water.

The only problem with mine and Wick’s plan, of course, was that it led us deeper and deeper into the unfamiliar rainforest.

And Marco was missing.

I hadn’t even seen him when we’d been coming down the steps.

We had no idea where we were going, how far from the Jeep we were getting, or if there was any hope of getting back to civilization.

But none of those things mattered when you were running from men with guns.

Sweat poured down my chest, back, scalp, and face. Even my damn arms were sweating as we tore through the jungle, vines and branches slapping us in the face or scratching our arms as we went.

It wasn’t long before my chest felt like it was burning, my face hot, and my stomach sloshing from nothing but water inside it.

But we couldn’t stop.

There was no way of knowing how close the men were.

If they were even chasing us at all.

In the end, it was a stupid fallen tree that brought us to an abrupt stop.

My ankle caught it and I went flying.

Wick’s hand tightened on mine, yanking back before he had no choice but to let me go, or else risk dislocating my shoulder. My momentum was too great.

All I could do was brace my forearms for the fall.

I barely even registered the pain of the fall, the way the underbrush nipped and sliced at my arms.

All I could feel was the fire in my lungs, the way I couldn’t seem to catch a breath, leaving me gasping, panic growing with each second that I couldn’t get enough oxygen.

“Hey, okay. Alright.” Wick’s voice was soft as he reached for me, pulling me up onto my knees as he knelt in front of me. “You’re alright,” he assured me as he reached for both of my wrists, yanking my arms up and out wide. “This’ll lift your ribcage,” he explained. “In through the nose,” he demanded.

With the threat of men with guns behind us, he shouldn’t have been able to be so patient and gentle with me. Even if I was nearing the point of no return with panic.

“There you go. Again,” he said, demonstrating the breath he wanted me to take, and I found myself obediently following instructions. “Alright. A little better,” he said, nodding at me.

We stayed just like that, breathing, watching each other, until, finally, the vice grip on my lungs eased.

“The impact of the fall probably triggered that,” he said as he let my arms drop.

“It’s okay. You can blame the fact that I don’t do nearly enough cardio,” I said, voice sounding weak as Wick passed me a water bottle. “We have to keep moving,” I told him as I took a long swig before handing him the rest of the water. “Do you have any clue what direction we should be going in?”

“No,” he admitted, looking around.

“Well, I guess we keep going this way then,” I said, gesturing toward where we’d been heading when I fell.

Wick offered me his hand again.

I didn’t even bother to dry the sweat off mine before I took his.

“Fast walking instead of running, yeah?”

With that, we took off, both of us tense, jumping at any small noise, eyes constantly on a swivel.

“How did you know?” Wick asked a long while later.

“Know what?”

“That there was a gun?”

“I got a strange feeling. There was crunching that just… sounded wrong. Then I saw the gun muzzle.”

“How do you know about guns?”

“My father. I mean, my mom knows a thing or two, too. But my dad. And uncles.” At his curious look, I shrugged. “He’s an outlaw biker. They run guns.”

“Wait a second,” Wick said, lips twitching. “Your dad is a criminal, but you gave me shit about insider trading?”

“It’s different.”

“How so?”

“There’s not a bounty on his head. I mean, actually, there probably is somewhere in the world. But not one I know of.”

“It’s not personal, huh?”

“It’s really not. I mean, sometimes I really enjoy bringing someone in. Wife-beaters, for example. But it’s just a job. It has nothing to do with my own morals. Given my family, I see a lot more gray in the world.”

To that, he nodded, then squeezed my hand harder as he came to a stop, pressing a finger to his lips.

We both stopped, not even breathing, trying to see if we heard anything other than the various wildlife around.

“Do you hear anything? Got a gut feeling or something?” Wick asked, and I liked how willing he was to trust my instincts.

“No. But I can’t imagine they just gave up.”

“Agreed.”

“Were we on private land or something? Or, like, is there some sort of illegal trade here that we happened upon? I mean, people were shooting at us for some reason, right?”

“I mean, yes, there is illegal trade in the rainforest. Animal trade, specifically. But, no, I don’t think it had anything to do with that.”

“Okay. What do you think it has to do with then?” To that, he shot me a long look. “Wait. Seriously? The eco-resort thing? Why would someone try to kill you over the bean?”

“The bean?” Wick asked, lips curving up.

“It looks like a bean.”

“Kind of does,” he agreed. “But, yeah, I think it has to do with the bean.”

“Why, though?”

“I think if I’d kept myself in the States, or gone anywhere else in the world, the company would have let this drop. They must have suspected or found out I was on my way down here to prove their fraud.”

“They’d kill you over, what, a couple of years in prison if the fraud falls on them instead of you?” White-collar crimes notoriously got slaps on the wrist. It was rare that anyone did serious time for things like stock market manipulation. They’d probably even go to a cushy low-security prison with cubicle housing and decent food where they could pick up some fun new hobbies.

“I think it’s deeper than the eco-resorts.”

“How so?”

“Where’s the money coming from?” he asked. “There are supposed to be a dozen of those beans bringing in a boatload of money. And there is money. So…”

“Where is the money coming from?” I filled in.

“Yeah.”

“You think they’re laundering money?”

“I honestly don’t know anything about that. But it’s possible, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. I mean, it’s right out of the money laundering playbook. They might as well open a bunch of bars or strip clubs.” Wick shot me a blank look. “Money laundering either involves washing your money through high cash businesses, since it is easy to cook those books, because there is no paper trail for cash, or by integrating it into a business, financial institution, or in the stock market.”

To that, he nodded. “And who launders money through stocks?”

“Who doesn’t? I mean, you’re probably looking at more high-level crimes. Mafia or cartel involvement comes to mind. Did your grandfather ever have any shady connections?”

“Not that I’d ever seen. He always associated with stuffy old-money types.”

“What about your great uncle?”

“I honestly don’t know him well. What I do know is that the business was struggling enough at one point to need to bring a new investor in.”

“Bingo,” I said.

“He could be a legitimate investor.”

“He could be. But people who are legit likely don’t have assassins on speed dial.”

That made him pause. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“To prove this, you’re going to need to learn more about that new partner. Which we can’t do… here,” I said, waving around the forest. “How deep do you think we’ve gone now?”

“Deep,” he said, the tightness in his jaw not giving me a lot of confidence.

“Do you have any idea how we get out?”

“I don’t want to give you false confidence. But maybe. If we’re not being chased, I can use a compass to get us back in the direction we came from. We will probably be far from the Jeep. If Marco didn’t already take off with it. But we can just follow the road to civilization from there.”

“Okay. Well, that’s better than I can do, so I will give you a little bit of confidence. What?” I asked when he shot me a wince.

“I think there’s probably a good chance, given how long we ran and how much ground we covered, that we might need to spend the night here.”

“The night.”

“Yeah.”

“In here. With the giant beetles and the bird-eating spiders and God-knows what else.”

“Afraid so.”

“Do you happen to have insect netting in that handy-dandy bag of yours?”

“I can do us one better.”