Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

January 22 nd

2:18 A.M.

Was he asleep?

Was this her chance?

Lucy lay as still as it was possible to lie when you were on the ground, in the middle of the jungle, inside a small cave that was really more of a rocky outcrop. There were a lot of things in the rainforest that could kill you, and she was doing her best not to think about all of them.

Just because she was usually an adrenalin junky didn't mean she didn't have her fears.

And bugs were at the top of that list.

Plus, there were jaguars, snakes, and scorpions.

Knowing that at any moment any one of them could come out of the dark was enough that there was no chance she was going to fall asleep.

After Zander made her walk for hours through the thick jungle, she finally collapsed when he found this little spot and informed her they would make camp for the night. Exhaustion had her passing out as soon as he'd forced her to drink some water and eat a protein bar.

By the time she'd woken, Zander had been lying beside her, seemingly fast asleep. It hadn't gone unnoticed that he'd taken the side closest to the opening of the little rocky cave, and she wasn't sure if that was because he wanted to be a line of protection between her and danger or because he wanted to make sure she couldn't leave without him knowing.

But leaving was exactly what she had planned.

The more they'd walked, the clearer it had become that Zander knew exactly where he was heading.

They weren't walking randomly, hoping to find signs of a village, road, or something that could lead them back home.

If the plane had been tampered with, and Zander had nothing to do with it—and she couldn't think of a logical reason why he would tamper with a plane he was going to be in—then why did he seem to know right where they were as well as where they were going? His strides had been confident, he'd never once wavered in the direction he was heading. There were no hesitations, and he didn't stop to check their surroundings or use a compass. He just walked.

That would be one thing if she could trust him, but since she couldn't … it was scary.

Scarier still, he was so adamant about keeping her close and the two of them sticking together. It wasn't so much because the idea was stupid, in these sorts of situations, sticking together would be the right move, but the problem was she couldn't trust Zander which meant she was questioning everything he did.

Why was it so important to him that they stay together?

Images of her friend's battered body flittered through her mind.

Was that her fate?

Was Zander leading her to Raul Castillo?

Was she going to be captured and tortured like Scarlett had been?

While it was hard to believe that Zander had played any role in his twin sister's abduction, it was hard to deny the bad timing. Now was when he chose to come back from the dead. There was zero chance he didn't know what risk he was taking by flying that plane. He knew it was a Prey job, who she was, and this was his sister's team.

What game are you playing, Zander Madden? And how dangerous is it to me?

There was no way she could answer that question. Zander himself certainly wasn't going to give anything away. As they walked, she'd asked him question after question, anything to pass the time and distract herself from the throbbing pain spiking up and down her body with each step.

None of those questions had gotten an answer.

The man was a vault, and he'd walked in complete silence almost the entire time, pausing occasionally to warn her of something he'd spotted up ahead or to tell her it was break time.

Well, his voice had been silent, but his eyes were anything but.

Even though she'd wanted to ask him to remove the contacts, she hadn't, but at some point, they must have been bothering him because he'd taken them out and pocketed them. Now that she was able to see more of the real Zander, she'd started noticing the mess of emotions swirling in the deep brown depths.

There was determination there, but so much more, guilt, anger, and helplessness.

It was the helplessness that got to her the most. Lucy didn't have to ask to know it was about a whole lot more than their current predicament.

But what did a man like Zander, a highly trained Delta Force operator, big and strong, powerful and trained, have to feel helpless about?

And why did she feel like the reason he'd faked his death was something you wouldn't immediately guess?

Still, despite her feelings that there was more going on here than Zander was ever going to tell her, Lucy knew she wasn't safe with him. It was the secrets he was keeping that were putting her at risk. If she didn't know what she was up against, she had no way of protecting herself. And since she couldn't trust Zander and his motives, she couldn't rely on him to have her back.

Which meant she was on her own.

The safest option for her was to get away from Zander and find her own way back to civilization. Not an easy task for a young woman alone in this part of the world, but she had a feeling it was still safer than sticking around Zander and his secrets. Plus, she had the added burden of her epilepsy. Since this trip was only supposed to be a couple of hours, she hadn't packed her medication. In the morning, it would be twenty-four hours since she'd had her last dose, so any time after that a seizure could hit. Her epilepsy was unpredictable at the best of times, but without her medicine, a seizure wasn't just a possibility it was an inevitability. This was a when not an if problem.

But it was also a problem for later.

Now she had to sneak away from a man who was trained to wake at the tiniest hint of a sound, especially when he was on an op.

Carefully, Lucy eased herself up into a sitting position, shifting slightly so her back was propped up against the rock wall. Not a single part of her body didn't protest the movement. Worst was her head, her arm, and her ribs. She was positive she'd cracked a couple, and there was no doubt she had a concussion with the nausea and dizziness.

Not that she had time to coddle herself right now.

If she didn't get away, she might not get another chance. Zander might not talk, but he watched her like a hawk, and even when she'd had to go to the bathroom, he'd hovered close enough to grab her if she tried to run.

After waiting a few minutes to see if he was going to stir, and noticing no change in his slow, even breathing, Lucy decided it was time to risk it. If he woke, she could always claim she was just going to the bathroom and then try to run again later.

Time felt like it slowed to barely moving as she pushed to her feet, not an easy thing to do with a broken arm and a battered body.

Once she was standing she froze, again waiting for any sign that Zander was awake.

But he didn't move, and her confidence rose a smidgen.

Since the cave was barely big enough for them both to stretch out in, she had no choice but to step over Zander if she wanted to get out into the jungle and make a run for it.

As she lifted her leg, Lucy could barely breathe, her heart hammered so hard in her chest that she was surprised that alone didn't wake him. Inch by inch, she raised her leg and stretched it out, then lowered it again just as slowly on the other side of Zander.

Next, she lifted her other leg with as much caution, and many seconds later she was standing on his other side, nothing between her and the relative safety of the jungle. Well, if you left out all the animals and the cartels that notoriously owned this part of the world.

Holding her breath, she waited what had to be another five minutes, but Zander didn't stir, and he didn't move. He was injured, too, which was working in her favor, making him tired enough not to hear her.

Not willing to wait another second and risk something else waking the sleeping man, Lucy turned and bolted.

There was no time to waste. At any moment, Zander could wake, and the most terrifying thing of all was she had no idea how he would respond to her escape attempt.

Just because his touch had been gentle at times didn't mean he wouldn't hurt her.

Which told her everything she needed to know about his trustworthiness. If she believed there was a chance that he might physically harm her, then she couldn't trust him. Running was the right thing to do.

Only she'd barely made it a dozen yards before she heard footsteps behind her.

No.

A sob built inside her, but she stamped it down, and shoved every bit of speed and strength she had into putting any distance between them.

If Zander caught her now she'd never get another chance.

Her life could very well be over.

In the end, size won out like it always did. Arms wrapped around her from behind, and she was yanked off her feet.

Despite her desire to put up a strong front and hide any signs of weakness, everything caught up to her at once, and that sob she'd been trying so hard to hold in came bursting out.

January 22 nd

2:49 A.M.

Damn.

She was crying.

Zander felt woefully inadequate to deal with tears.

They'd never been his strong suit with any woman other than his sister, and that was back when they were kids and all he had to do was try to cheer her up and make her laugh. Crying was pretty much forbidden in their house growing up. Unless you'd lost a limb you were expected to suck it up and deal with it without complaint. Even if you'd lost a limb, he was sure there would have been little tolerance for crying.

Sometimes at night, after their grandparents had gone to sleep, he'd sneak into his sister's room, and they'd hide under her covers and whisper to one another about how unfair things were. Occasionally, Scarlett would weep, and he'd do whatever it took to bring a smile back to her face.

They might be twins, but in a lot of ways he'd always been more of a big brother. He'd looked out for her and protected her when and where he could. When they were sent to different foster homes, he'd made sure any other kids there knew not to mess with his sister. Same at school, if any boy showed an interest in his twin, he issued a warning of what would happen if they broke her sweet, big, kind heart.

Their personalities were night and day. Always had been. Scarlett was so sweet, loved everyone, cared for everyone, had big dreams about what her life was going to look like, and he was happy that she'd finally found what she'd been searching for all her life. Her place to belong in the world.

Unlike him, she'd always believed she would find love, happiness, and family.

The kind of family they both used to wish for on their birthdays.

But Zander had always known he was more like their parents and grandparents. He was colder, harder, and able to separate emotions and do what needed to be done.

Only right now, with this beautiful, strong, crying woman clutched against his chest, Zander had no idea how to do what needed to be done. It would be so much easier if he didn't have to interact with Lucy. If he had sedatives and could just knock her out, throw her over his shoulder, and walk out of here, and not just easier because he could walk at a much faster pace on his own.

This was harder than he'd thought it would be.

Lucy had always invoked something in him that he hadn't wanted to examine too closely. She brought out feelings that he had learned from birth to ignore. Somehow, when she was around, he seemed to have a harder time doing that than he should.

"Please, let me go." Lucy wept. She was limp in his hold like everything that had happened had caught up with her all at once and left her too exhausted to do anything other than cry and beg.

Unless it was in the bedroom, and she was pleading for pleasure, he'd be only too happy to deliver, Zander found he didn't like the sound. Usually, a man's pleas were easy to ignore, he was able to block them out and focus on the bigger picture. But he couldn't do that with Lucy. She was different. The only other person who'd ever managed to bring out that same protectiveness in him was his sister.

Only he definitely didn't look at Lucy and think of her as a sister.

Although his life would be so much easier if he did.

"I can't let you go, Lucy," he said softly, dropping his forehead to rest against the back of her head. The ache in his chest was uncomfortable, and he wanted to rub it away, erase it, do what he always did, and focus on the job at hand.

"Why?" The whispered word, spoken through a torrent of tears, only made the ache worse because there was no answer he could offer her.

No satisfactory answer anyway.

"I only have one set of night vision goggles," he said in place of an answer. "How about I carry you for a while. Since we're both awake, we may as well keep walking."

"I don't want you touching me," she said, beginning to struggle against his grip. The only way she was getting free was if he let her and he had no intention of letting her.

"You're weak, in pain, and exhausted." Zander shifted his hold on her so she was cradled in his arms. With her in this position, he had no choice but to look into her eyes. Such a pretty shade of blue, the kind of eyes you could get lost staring into if you'd let yourself. But he couldn't let himself.

That was something he was going to have to keep reminding himself of.

Because there was no way he could throw away everything he'd worked for, everything he was so close to getting. Not for one woman with a tough girl attitude he admired, a sexy body he craved, and a lot of love to offer that he found himself longing to be the recipient of.

Not for anything.

Too much was riding on this.

There was too much to lose if it all fell apart.

Too much to gain if everything went the way he had planned.

"Like you care if I'm hurting," Lucy said, eyeing him defiantly.

The spark of anger in her eyes almost made him smile. If he didn't know it would only make her angry, he'd tell her how much he loved that she wasn't cowering down before him, but standing up for herself. He guessed she had a lot of practice of standing up for herself and proving to those around her that she wasn't weak.

Which reminded him.

"Do you have your medication with you?" he asked.

Annoyance flared in those baby blues that looked at him with such disdain that he wanted to spill his guts, and try to make her understand the position he'd been put in.

"That's none of your business, and how do you even know about my epilepsy?"

"Because I know you, Lucy."

"No, you don't. Not really. We've only met a handful of times."

"Enough," he murmured. Enough for him to have fantasized about her more times than he could count, coming in his hand with an image of her face in his mind, and the echo of the sounds he knew she'd make in his ears.

Enough to know that if he was a different man, and his life wasn't the one he had chosen, he could have pursued her and convinced this fiercely independent woman to give him a chance.

But he wasn't different, and his life was a step away from complete catastrophe.

He could do nothing to ever be good enough for a woman like Lucy Elrod.

Best he remembered that.

"I don't get you." There was exasperation in her tone now. "I know you love Scarlett, yet you let her believe you were dead knowing it would crush her. You show up right as there's a mole at Prey, even though it's a huge risk for a guy who's supposed to be dead to show up at his sister's job. Our plan crashes, you're acting all crazy about us sticking together, and you walk with a purpose. You know what you're doing and where you're going, but you refuse to tell me anything or answer any question I ask. Yet when you touch me, you're so gentle that I can't imagine you ever doing anything to hurt anyone. You're quite the enigma, ghost man."

This time when she called him ghost man it was free of judgment and the words didn't quite sting as much, reminding him of all his failures.

There was no refuting any of her words. He knew exactly where they were and where he was going. And there was no way he could not be gentle with this precious bundle he held in his arms. Just because he knew there could never be anything between them didn't mean there wasn't a part of him that wondered.

What would it be like to have Lucy as his?

What would it be like to make love to her?

What would it be like to press his lips against hers?

What would it be like to be normal?

And what was the point of wondering about it all? Nothing could change what was. Nothing could take back what had happened or his choices following it.

"I'm not a puzzle for you to uncover, sassy girl," he said softly.

A small smile curled up one side of her mouth. "You should know something, ghost man."

"Yeah? What's that?"

"I love puzzles, and I'm really good at them."

There was a challenge in her voice as well as a promise. Lucy was determined to unravel him, but if she discovered the truth, it would only put her in more danger than she was already in.