Page 75 of Rio

“You always think you know best,” he snaps.

“And you always think people owe you answers.”

He glares at me, and my insides turn to steel.I waggle my finger at him.“I don’t want to hear a word about the injunction, if that’s the reason you came looking for me.”

“I needed to talk to you about the way you went about it.”

I wipe a hand over my face.“You can’t.We shouldn’t even be in the same room together.”

“And yet somehow that’s how we end up.”

I’m curious and puzzled.“You should have called me, Knight.Saved yourself the journey here.How did you get here?”

“I drove.”

“But the roads are bad!”

“A road.One, narrow, windy, dirt road.”

And he came anyway.For me, to make sure I was safe, and he put himself in danger.The hardness in my chest loosens.This man who was filled with wrath yesterday, put his life on the line to come and find me.The walls I’ve kept steadfast and fixed around me, to keep him out, start to crack a little.I’m so pathetic at this.Constantly running into Rio has softened my resolve.

“You should’ve come to me,” he says.

“My generator was working just fine this morning,” I quip.I can’t help myself.I resort to sarcasm when things start to feel too serious.

He steps closer, and I almost step back, needing space between us.But I hold my ground, refusing to be intimidated.

“Why are you out here, still chasing evidence?Still trying to make sure your case actually holds?”

I laugh out loud.Not only because it’s absurd and the last thing I expected him to come out with, but because he’sso wrong.

“How did you know I’d be here?”I demand.

“Alma.She hinted that you were trying to get something.Is it more evidence?”

“Might be, but not for the reasons you think.”I cross my arms, and try my hardest not to let my gaze wander to the way his shirt sticks to his chest.“I have more than a watertight case.”

“Bullshit.”

“A lot of this damage is caused by the construction.Yourconstruction.”

“Did you look at the folder I gave you?”

“I did.”I added some notes from it, but I’m not about to tell him that, although, now I’m starting to wonder if that was wise, because the data looked too clean.Too sanitized.Images of mangrove roots mysteriously healthy after supposed clear-cutting.Photos that looked staged, of “replanted” trees.Environmental impact reports saying that the resort will “boost biodiversity” when it’s not what I see with my own eyes.I didn’t include too much of what he gave me, and now that I’ve been here, I’m glad I didn’t.

He looks around the hut, moving the flickering lamp to shine a light on something lying on the crates.He picks it up.It’s a flashlight.He flicks a switch and the light comes on.He shoves it into his pocket.“You find whatever it was you were looking for?”

“I did.I’ve seen enough.I’m shocked you don’t see it.”

We’re barely inches apart now, and I brace myself for his cocky rebuttal.

“I believe you.”

“I want to protect this island,” I snap.“Wait,what?” That’s the last thing I expected him to say.

“You heard.”Thunder rolls.Lightning strikes again, and the roof of the hut shudders.I jump, startled.

He looks up.“This isn’t safe.”