Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

January 22 nd

5:02 P.M.

With every second that passed, it looked like the inevitable was drawing closer.

Lucy didn't like it one little bit, this wasn't how she wanted things to end, and she wasn't even sure she was capable of following through and doing what had to be done.

You have to, Lucy.

This is your life we're talking about.

Zander might have been a good guy at one point but he's not now. You know it.

You feel it.

That was completely true. As the hours ticked by, she felt Zander growing more and more distant. Not only did he refuse to speak to her unless it was to issue an order, but she could sense him withdrawing. There was nothing in his eyes anymore, they were just … blank. Like he was more robot than man.

The pace he was setting was punishing, and more than once she'd collapsed, her battered body simply unable to go on.

When that happened, he no longer touched her with gentleness, cupping her chin as he helped her sip water from a bottle like he had the day before. Lucy hadn't even realized that she'd needed those small human connections to keep her going until he'd ripped them away. Now all she got was the canteen thrust at her while he stood over her with his arms crossed, expression empty, and posture stiff like he was ready for something to happen.

She was, too.

It was the very definition of waiting on tender hooks.

Something was happening, but she was left completely in the dark. She had no idea what to expect and the thought was terrifying.

Risking your safety in some adrenalin pumping activity like sky diving, or bungee jumping, or scuba diving way out in the depths of the ocean was one thing. It was kind of like controlling the danger. You knew what you were doing, you had practiced what to do in the event of an emergency, and you were prepared for all scenarios. It didn't mean the risk was gone, but it definitely mitigated it.

Out here, she had nothing to go on, no way to prepare herself.

That was what made it so scary.

How could she hope to survive when she had no idea what she had to defend herself against?

Zander was giving nothing away, and all she had to go on were theories and suspicions. Just because he had faked his death didn't mean he was working for someone like Raul Castillo. Yet the timing was so suspicious that it was hard to believe his sudden reappearance had nothing to do with the weapons dealer.

All she knew for certain was that Zander was shutting down any sort of connection to her, distancing himself. The only reason she could think of to do that was if he knew what he was going to do with her, and he felt some guilt over it, so he had to stop seeing her as a real person so he could do what he planned.

Not if I can help it, ghost man.

Although to do what she had to do, she was going to have to stop seeing the man as one of her three best friends' twin brother.

Because if she couldn't, then she wouldn't be able to take action, and that meant she was handing herself over to Zander and his plans on a silver platter.

Every time she'd called him ghost man, she'd sensed his pain, although he'd tried to hide it. A lot was going on with this man, and while she would love nothing more than to puzzle him out she didn't have the time.

Not if she wanted to live.

So, she had to do this, even if she had no idea how she was going to face Scarlett if she did make it through this ordeal and back home.

It was more than clear that her best chance at survival was getting away from Zander. He was taking her somewhere—or to someone—that wasn't safe. That was pretty much a fact as far as she was concerned. So even though there were lots of risks going it alone in the Mexican jungle, it was absolutely the lesser of the two evils in this scenario.

For now, she just had to think one step ahead. If she tried to see the big picture, she was going to get too overwhelmed to act.

While Zander kept a hawk's view on her as they walked and didn't let her out of his sight for so much as a second, there was no way he could stop her eyes from roaming the landscape. Nor could he stop her mind from running through possible scenarios.

Since Zander kept growing more tense, she knew they were getting closer to his destination, so time was running out for her. She had to come up with a way to escape, and since she knew Zander was prepared for her to try something, she had to take him out of the equation.

That meant having to hurt him or possibly even kill him.

The very thought of harming another human being left her feeling sick to her stomach in a way that had nothing to do with the concussion.

But what other choice did she have?

Go with Zander and let him do to her what he had planned?

Not happening.

A huge part of her wanted to believe she was reading the man and the situation all wrong. That those pieces of Zander she sensed that showed his guilt, his pain, his conflicted emotions, were all true. That he had no intention of hurting her or handing her over to people who would hurt her.

If his intentions weren't nefarious, he wouldn't be trying to hide his plans.

It was that piece of information she had to keep reminding herself of. Zander wouldn't be so tight-lipped if he was just trying to get them to some village so they could call Prey, and get back home. There would be no need to.

Be strong, Luce. And smart.

Your life depends on it.

It's great to see the good in people, but not if it costs you your life .

When she saw they were walking close to the edge of a rocky cliff, an idea popped into her head.

Could she pull it off?

You have to .

Steadying her nerves and fortifying her resolve, Lucy stopped walking. "I have to pee," she announced. She didn't really, but she needed to get as close to that edge as possible for her plan to work, and she knew that having to go to the bathroom would allow her a little more distance from her captor than needing a break would.

Zander merely nodded, scanning their surroundings then settling his gaze on her.

Thankfully, for her plan to work, she wanted him to be watching her.

Walking a couple of steps closer to the edge of the cliff, Lucy turned her back on Zander like she had the other times she'd had to pee, and awkwardly shoved her pants down enough that she could do her business.

Once she was done, she dragged in a deep breath, ignored the ache in her chest as she did so, and prayed that this would work.

Pulling her pants up one handed was awkward, and her balance was off because of the head injury and exhaustion, so when she swayed like she was about to topple over it wasn't that much of an act.

Like she'd hoped he would, Zander sprung toward her to catch her before she fell.

Just as he was about to reach her, Lucy sidestepped, hoping his forward momentum would be too much to counter in time.

Right as he would have tumbled down, rolling over the cliff edge, a crack split through the air.

Somehow, Zander managed to take her down with him as he fell, angling his body so he took the brunt of the impact as they hit the ground.

Sluggish as it was, it took a moment for her brain to process what had just happened.

A gunshot.

Someone had shot at them.

And Zander was trying to protect her.

Unfortunately, it was too little, too late.

Her plan was working. Together, in a tangle of limbs, they rolled the short distance toward the edge of the cliff. Zander muttered a curse, and then he was shoving her body with a force that sent her tumbling back in the other direction.

The move sent him rolling faster toward the edge.

There was nothing he could do to stop it.

He'd saved her life at the expense of his own.

Lucy cried out in fear and scrambled toward him, praying she could grab onto him in time and stop the inevitable from happening.

But it happened.

In slow motion the bottom half of Zander's body disappeared. Their eyes connected. There was no condemnation in Zander's, no anger, no fear either. Instead, there was almost a sense of peace. Like he was ready to welcome death.

Then his head disappeared, and he was just gone.

January 22 nd

5:27 P.M.

Pain ricocheted through his body.

Zander groaned as he returned to consciousness.

For a moment, his brain was foggy and unfocused. He couldn't remember where he was, or what had happened, or why it was that he felt like he'd been run over by a truck.

All he knew was the tickle of fear at the back of his mind.

Something was wrong.

Just because he couldn't figure out what didn't mean he didn't know he had to. And fast.

Focusing on the pain, he allowed it to lead him out of the fogginess, let it anchor him. Once he'd gripped his mind onto that pain memories began to trickle back in. The plane crash, the hike through the jungle, the gunshot, the fall.

Lucy had tried to throw him over the side of the cliff.

A grin replaced the grimace, and he blinked his eyes open to find that he'd rolled about halfway down the incline and landed on a mossy outcrop where a single tree grew. It wasn't so much as a cliff as a fairly steep hill that was more rocky than covered in trees like the rest of the landscape. If Lucy thought the fall would kill him, she was mistaken. It was enough for her to get away from him though, since it separated them and bought her a little time.

There was no anger in him at the knowledge she'd been willing to kill him. That she'd actively tried to, or at the very least to incapacitate him.

The opposite.

Pride blossomed inside him. The woman was smart and spunky. It took guts to do what she'd done, and she'd done it so perfectly. He hadn't seen it coming until it was too late to do anything about it, and momentum sent him sailing over.

It had taken every bit of strength he had to shift his trajectory to hit Lucy and take her down when he felt a tingling at the back of his neck one moment before the crack of a gunshot sounded through the jungle.

Had Lucy been hit?

Was she up there now with the shooter?

Or had his shove not been enough to save her from falling?

Fear for her safety was enough to wipe the smile from his face. Maybe the woman was a little too spunky for her own good. If she hadn't tried to get rid of him and go this alone, they wouldn't be separated right now. He had a weapon in his backpack, which thankfully was still on his back, he could have protected them both, but now she was up there alone with someone he wanted desperately to keep her away from.

So much for that plan.

Whatever Lucy might think, he hadn't been walking her toward danger. The opposite in fact. He'd been walking her away from it, taking her to a place where he knew she'd be safe.

Too late for that now.

Now she was alone, unprotected, unarmed, injured, and left to face an enemy that spunk wasn't going to save her from.

The fear that lurched its way through his body, gaining momentum as it went, was something he wasn't accustomed to.

Sure, Zander knew what it was like to be afraid. Knew what it was like to fear for the lives of the people you cared about, those that were important to you, the closest thing you had to family.

But this felt so different.

It had been months since he'd felt anything even close to this, and that week of horror was etched into his mind and his soul. The echoes of his teammates' screams still haunted his sleeping and waking hours. Nightmares plagued him, flashbacks during the day, and the only thing that kept him going was his need for vengeance.

Nothing could mess up his plans because without them he was … nothing.

Nothing but the tragic lone survivor of a hell he was never supposed to walk away from.

Death should have claimed him like it did the seven other men there with him that day. A horrible, unimaginable, agonizing death. Slow and painful, that was the kind of torture those men took pleasure in dishing out.

But he was going to get his revenge, and then there was every chance he was going to die for real. After that, he would have nothing left to live for. His team was all dead, his Delta career trashed, and his sister—the only blood family who had ever meant anything to him—hated his guts.

He was better off dead.

All of them were better off if he was dead.

Not yet, though. Death couldn't claim his soul until he finished his final mission. And part of that mission included getting one strong, sassy, beautiful woman back home where she belonged.

"Hold on, Lucy, I'm coming," he muttered as he placed his palms against the ground and used them to help heave himself into a standing position.

For a second, his body swayed, and he got the sickening feeling that he was going to fall the rest of the way down the side of the mountain. Just because it wasn't really a fall that could kill a man, if he hit one of the trees the wrong way, he could snap his neck, or break a bone, rendering himself useless.

Somehow, he managed to remain upright, and covering his eyes to shield them from the bright sunlight he looked up to the top of the incline. Up there was the last place he'd seen Lucy, their gazes had connected as he was going over the edge. In that split second, he'd felt her fear, regret, and her deep remorse. There were a million things he'd wanted to say, assurances he'd wanted to give, but in the end, there hadn't been time.

All he'd felt, believing his life was about to end, was peace.

Peace he didn't deserve.

Peace he would find only in death.

As nice as it would be to fade into oblivion and finally escape the torment that would follow him for the remainder of his life, right now he couldn't.

He had to find Lucy.

Knowing she was vulnerable to whoever had shot at them made his gut churn in the most unpleasant way, and there was a constriction in his chest that Zander didn't quite understand. It was one thing not to want to see another innocent die, it was another thing to want to protect a woman who was important to his sister, but it felt like so much more than that.

It felt like he needed Lucy to be okay.

The attraction he'd always felt toward her seemed to have grown into something so much more, although he had no idea how it had happened. Maybe it was the first time she sassed him in that plane, maybe it was seeing her anger directed toward him and knowing it was born out of protectiveness for someone she loved. Or maybe it was the way she seemed to sense what he was feeling even though he was an expert at hiding it.

The trail of mangled bodies left behind after he and his team were captured was a testament to that skill. Only with Lucy, the skill seemed to vanish.

Now she needed him, and he wasn't there.

There had been no sound from her. She wasn't still up there and hadn't called out to him or tried to help in any way. Just because her job wasn't one that required her to be out in the field didn't mean she had no idea of what was going on. She knew they'd been shot at, and knew she would have to run if she was going to have any chance at surviving.

"I'm coming, sassy girl."

The words offered him strength severely lacking in his exhausted body, and he gripped the side of the hill, ready to drag himself back up it. A pull in his bicep and the streaks of blood down his arm surprised him, and he realized for the first time that the bullet that had been fired had actually hit him.

Better him than Lucy.

Not wanting to waste time—time Lucy might not have—tending to the wound, Zander ignored it, and instead, somehow managed to find a foothold and began what would be a torturous climb back up the cliff.

Every time he felt like giving up, every time it felt like he couldn't make it, he reminded himself of the woman counting on him and managed to make it another foot.

Foot after foot he climbed.

By the time he dragged himself over the ledge, his arms and legs were trembling, he was breathing hard and coated in sweat.

But there was no time to sit around and recoup lost energy.

At least half a dozen sets of prints told him that people had been here recently, no doubt looking down to see if he'd survived the fall. That meant there were at least half a dozen armed men currently on Lucy's trail.

"Hold on, sassy girl."

Please, hold on .