1. Mercy

"Mercy!"

Elijah's voice whispered across my skin, clinging to me like the sweat currently slicking down my neck. I jerked upright, tugging at the bindings around my wrists. I couldn't feel my hands anymore as the blood drained down from where they were secured over my head. It had been hours since they'd last given us water, and with the oppressive heat swelling around us, I was growing delusional.

That's what I told myself as I started to envision Dwayne Johnson storming through the straw doors of the hut and rescuing me.

"Mercy! Wake up!"

"I'm awake," I hissed at Elijah. Note to self: never sleep with a colleague. Particularly one that is sexy in a doctor sort of way, but has an effeminate air to him, making him the worst person ever to be taken hostage with.

"I think something's happening," he said urgently, his voice turning panicked.

I refrained from rolling my eyes. What was the point? He couldn't see me in the dark anyway. "We were taken hostage. Of course something's happening."

"I'm scared!"

"Christ," I muttered under my breath, then cursed myself for using the Lord's name in vain. I wasn't particularly religious, but now seemed like a bad time to test religion in any sort of way, especially when I was being held hostage by guerillas.

"Mercy, what if they kill us?"

"Then I guess I won't have to hear you whine anymore," I grumbled.

It wasn't the most sympathetic response, but I was going on two weeks in this hut with Elijah, and most of it consisted of me comforting him. It was to the point that I wondered what had attracted me to him in the first place. Sure, he was sweet and caring, not to mention great in bed, but a girl needed a man's man when in this type of situation. I didn't want to have to be the stronger of the two of us.

My head jerked up at the commotion outside the hut. Elijah was right, something was going on. I jerked at the bindings around my wrists, even though I knew it was pointless. But I couldn't sit back and allow myself to be killed without even attempting to escape. I tugged harder, sinking my teeth into my lower lip as the rope ate at my skin. Blood trickled down my arms with every second that passed. This was the perfect breeding environment for infection, which I knew all too well. But what good were my hands if I ended up missing my head in the end?

The sound of gunfire had me going still, my eyes locking on the doorway as my heart hammered out of control. I cataloged every feeling inside my body to calm my mind.

Heavy weight on my chest.

Tingling sensation in my upper extremities.

Dizzy and nauseous—probably from lack of food.

Butterflies erupting in my lower abdomen.

"You're not having a heart attack," I whispered to myself, closing my eyes tight. I could see my heart pounding in my chest and the muscles tightening with every breath I took. This was the bad part about being a doctor. I could visualize everything that was happening inside my body, making it impossible to escape my own thoughts for even a moment. It was made worse every time Elijah freaked out on me.

It was bad enough that I had to be strong for him, but I had my own shit to worry about. Like the fact that if I got an infection—which I was pretty sure I had already contracted—it was likely my body would start to reject my heart. That tended to happen when immunosuppressant drugs were no longer used, even years after a heart transplant. I was a kid when I had the transplant, but even though I'd been healthy for years, I still had protocols to adhere to. Maybe it hadn't been the smartest idea to join Doctors Without Borders, but I refused to let anything rule my life.

It didn't seem like a wise decision right now.

"Mercy, are you okay?"

I wasn't, but I couldn't tell Elijah that. "I'm fine."

"You don't sound fine. Your speech is slurring."

"That tends to happen…when you don't get a lot of water," I said, hoping I sounded normal. I shook my head, forcing myself to stay strong.

"You haven't had your meds in two weeks. That's not good."

"Thank you for pointing that out," I snapped. I knew it was bad. And I knew that once my body started to reject the heart, it was all downhill from there. It could be treated and there was a very good possibility my heart could be saved, but we were in the jungle—not the ideal location to stay healthy. I didn't even have a clean water source.

"I'm gonna get you out of here," he said, trying to boost my confidence.

It was unnecessary. If anyone was going to get us out of here, it was going to be me. But I didn't have the chance to say that because the straw door to the hut burst open and light poured inside, making me flinch from the sudden light.

Squinting through tired eyes, I could barely make out a tall figure approaching. I gasped, holding my breath as the mountain of a man knelt down in front of me. I wasn't scared. Just the opposite, in fact. Through my blurry vision, I could see the outline of his muscular figure, the way his muscles strained under his shirt. I licked my lips unintentionally, wondering how it would feel to be under his thick frame.

My heart must really be giving out because at a time when I should be terrified—worried for my life—all I could think about was how my body was reacting to this man. I hadn't even seen his face yet. What if he was like the elephant man? Somehow, my body didn't seem to think that was an issue. Could attraction be a symptom of heart rejection?

"Are you Mercy Monroe?"

His voice was deep and gravelly, sending tingles down my spine. My body shivered uncontrollably in the heat, and as much as I wanted to attribute it to the fever I knew was creeping up on me, it was most definitely because of this man. I was so screwed.

"Ma'am?"

The word made my nose crinkle in disgust. "Don't call me ma'am. I'm only thirty."

My vision cleared enough to finally see his face, and man was he handsome. A sexy grin spread across his lips, making me blush. Thankfully, it was probably a tad too dark in here for him to see. That and I was way too dirty to actually see the red tint to my skin.

"I'll keep that in mind. Are you Mercy?"

"Yes," I managed to say without embarrassing myself further.

"I'm Chase. What do you say we get out of here?"

"Sounds good," I answered, my voice coming out breathlessly.

He stretched his arms over my head and fiddled with the bindings. It was at that moment that I noticed a second man in the hut working on Elijah's bindings.

"We need to go!" a voice shouted from the doorway.

My hands came free and Chase grabbed me by the hand, hauling me to my feet. For just a moment, dizziness crashed over me, but I gritted my teeth and pushed it away. I was so close to freedom. Now was not the time to allow petty health issues to get in the way.

"You good?"

I gave him a tight nod, refusing to allow my deteriorating heart to win. "Let's do this."

At the same time, I heard Elijah going on and on about how grateful he was that someone came for us. His voice was high-pitched, making me wonder how I ever slept with him, let alone thought it was a good idea to come with him to a foreign country.

Before I could really think about it, Chase pulled me out of the hut and started dragging me through mud to the cover of trees. The thick vines that swung from the trees reminded me of running with Elijah when we were first attacked. But unlike Elijah, this man effortlessly guided me away from the hut and danger.

I barely had time to think, let alone try and figure out where we were going. I focused solely on following Chase's footsteps and putting one foot in front of the other.

"Where are you?"

"What?" I asked Chase, confused by what he was asking.

Then I saw him press his finger to his ear and his head snapped in the opposite direction. He tugged me to the ground, keeping a firm hand on my shoulder. For the first time in minutes, I looked around me, and I didn't like what I saw.

A group of guerrillas were approaching, and the leader was the very man who had captured me last time. I could still smell the stench pouring off his body and see his yellowing teeth. Bile churned in my stomach at the thought of being captured again. I was strong, but knowing that I might end up in his clutches again was more than I could stomach.

"Stay here," Chase whispered.

I gripped his hand, not wanting to be that girl—the one who panicked in a scary situation—but I was. "There are too many of them."

Again, that sexy grin came out to play. "Don't worry, sweetheart. I've got this."

Then he was gone, moving through the trees so quietly that I couldn't hear a thing other than the pounding of my heart. I huddled back against a tree, knowing it wasn't nearly big enough to cover my frame. I didn't dare close my eyes, making sure to keep an eye on my surroundings.

I expected to hear a pained cry at any moment, to see blood spurt out of Chase's neck or some other body part as he was flung in front of me as a warning of what would happen if I ran again. Instead, all I heard were the sounds of the jungle, the hissing of insects and the distant sound of water.

My heart thumped erratically in my chest, but it had nothing to do with my heart condition. I was panicking, giving in to the fear of what would happen if Chase didn't come back for me. At least with Elijah I wasn't alone, though I wasn't sure that made me safer.

The sudden rustle of leaves was the only warning I had before I was yanked upright and an arm was pressed against my throat. The smell was overwhelming, reminding me of when I was first taken. But I didn't panic. They wanted me alive, that much I knew. His filthy words bounced off me, not even penetrating my mind. And that's when I saw him. It was just for a moment, a brief flash of something dark moving through the trees. I even wondered if he was only a figment of my imagination.

I was jerked back harder against the paunchy belly protruding into my back. His sweat soaked through my shirt, and if it wasn't for the fact that I was already disgusting, I might have been grossed out.

"You're coming back with me."

My eyes locked on the spot where I saw Chase moments ago. I knew he was there, waiting for his moment. I just had to give him the opportunity to take this man out.

"I don't think so," I muttered, slamming my elbow back into the man's stomach. I barely made a dent. He didn't even grunt. So, I stomped my foot down as hard as possible on his foot, surprised when he suddenly released me and fell to the ground. I spun around, shocked that it had worked, only to find blood oozing from his head as his eyes stared sightlessly up at the sky.

Okay, I knew I hadn't done that.

Chase stood just feet from me, shoving a knife back into a sheath at his waist. Here in the sunlight, I got a better look at him. He donned a scruffy black beard that thoroughly covered his strong jaw. Piercing blue eyes met mine, instantly sending shocks down my spine. Holy crap, he was devastatingly gorgeous. I instantly remembered the first thing I noticed about him—his muscular frame—and now that I could see all of him, all I could think was…Holy shit. I stood there wondering how his shirt wasn't torn to shreds by the sheer mass of his body. Each muscle more defined than the last peeked out from under his black shirt. His arms were covered in tattoos that I could never think of getting. They lent an air of danger to him, reminding me that I had wished I would be rescued by Dwayne Johnson.

Okay, this guy had hair, but he was just as large, and even more beautiful, if that was even possible.

"We need to leave."

My mouth gaped at his sexy voice. Words would be good right about now, but once again, my hormones took the front seat, and sanity sat firmly in the back, refusing to be a backseat driver.

His large hand engulfed mine, tugging me through the trees and expertly navigating the rough terrain. I had to get my brain back online before I became one of those useless women who relied on a man for everything. I had never in all my life relied on others—except for when I was ten and had to because my body was too weak to take care of itself. But that was then and this was now.

I finally stopped staring at his muscular ass long enough to realize we were in a life and death situation. Elijah was nowhere around, nor was the man who showed up with Chase. We were on our own.

"Where are we going?"

"We have to get to the extraction point," he answered without turning around.

"Which is where?"

"Not sure at this point. We got separated from everyone else. Once we're clear, I'll figure that out."

My feet ate up the ground behind him. I refused to be a liability when he was trying to keep me safe. I should probably be a little more scared right now, but having been through life or death situations at such a young age had steeled me against impending doom. I knew I could handle it if I could just stop staring long enough at the sexy man in front of me to put on my thinking cap and take in the reality of the situation. That was how I dealt with things. Panicking and worrying about what could happen would never help anyone. Rational thought was the only way forward.

But the longer we ran through the jungle, the more one thing became increasingly clear. Fear would not stop me, but my failing heart just might do me in.