Wolfsbane (31 page)

“I could ask you the same thing, man.” Brick sported a several-day beard and the stench of alcohol. “My
abuelo
died. Left me his farm. Just up the hill.”

“Farm?” The surprise was real this time. “Since when do you farm?” The guy had been one of the best Green Berets he’d trained.

“Don’t.” The man grunted. “That’s why I’m drowning myself in whiskey. The farm’s failing. Losing it all.” The man slapped Canyon’s arm. “Never mind about me. What’re you doing here? Way out of your territory, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I guess I am.”

Brick frowned. “You in trouble?”

“Not really, just trekking. Trying to get to Caracas to meet up with some friends.”

“Hey, I could drive you down, unless you want the alone time. I know how you used to be about that.”

Mind racing, Canyon considered the man’s words. He’d known Brick for years in the Army. Then the guy got out. Never heard from him again. “You sure about that? Isn’t it far?”

“Only three or four hours’ drive. On foot, another day at least.” Brick thumped Canyon’s shoulder. “I’ll be here at seven in the morning. That too early?”

“No, no, that’d be great.” Was he making a mistake? “Where’d you say your farm was?”

“End of the street, take the first dirt road. Hang a right. Up the hill.”

Canyon would check out the farm story, and if Navas was telling the truth, they’d wait and catch a ride into town. If not, they’d be long gone before dawn.

CHAPTER 19

D
o you trust him, this Brick guy?” Sitting at the lopsided table, Dani tugged the end of the oversized tunic beneath the comforter, knowing she was covered but still feeling undressed.

After showering, she’d washed her clothes and hung them over the door to dry. She should let her fears rest. Canyon hadn’t even blinked at her attire—or lack thereof—when he returned with the supplies and found her like this. Still, she eyed her jeans and shirt hanging over the door drying.

“I did, five years ago.”

Chewing another bite, she considered not having to hike for another day. It was almost too much to hope for. “What about now?”

Meal finished, he tossed his empty bowl in the trash and crossed to the other side of the room. There he yanked off his vest and removed his tactical shirt. Bare-chested, he shrugged. “Not sure.”

Mercy! Her mouth went dry. And not out of fear of being alone with a man. But dry mouthed from the strange things he did to her mind and body. For a second, she couldn’t help but marvel that here, with Canyon, she wasn’t thrust into the past, terrified of being raped. Being with him didn’t feel suffocating. How weird—wonderful! She’d been on the verge of hysterics with Range. Why wasn’t she terrified with Canyon?

Although she dragged her gaze away from his well-muscled body, it rebelled. Soaked in the— Whoa. Wait. What really snagged her attention—more than his incredible physique—were the tattoos, especially the one emblazoned over his heart. Three small crosses and the words:
Always Remember
. What did that mean?

Conversation. Steer it back. “Then, what do we do?”

He stepped into the bathroom, oblivious to her scrutiny, and that’s when a few spots that looked like melted skin on his back glared at her. Bullet scars. “I’ll ask around. If the people know him, we’ll take the ride.” He shut the door, severing her independent study of his body.

The tub handles squeaked in the bathroom. Soon, the sound of water tumbling over porcelain reached her ears.

Hair still wet, Dani finished the meal of beans, rice, chicken, and bananas, all smothered in a sauce with shredded meat. She glanced at her jeans and T-shirt hanging over the closet door, praying they’d be dry come morning. Though the yellow tunic was dry, it was also several sizes too big and hung loose on her. It might be comfortable to sleep in, but it was hot, which meant she couldn’t wear it for hiking. She prayed this guy Canyon met worked out.

But wasn’t it straining credulity that a man Canyon knew from his Special Forces days just happened to live in the village where they’d taken refuge?

A peal of thunder shook the walls and floor beneath her feet.

Dani groaned. Again?

Through the open window, rain pelted the dingy curtain. After she set her half of the torn foam box in the trash, Dani closed the window and pulled the shade. As she passed the mirror, she caught her dulled reflection. Ugh. Did she really look that bad? Fingering her hair dry, she yawned, but her mind hadn’t let go of his friend.

Within minutes Canyon opened the door. In his half-dried tactical pants and still-bare chest, he draped his shirt over the bathroom door just as she had done with hers. She tried not to stare at his toned abs, the scars on his shoulder and back. Right now her attention should be on something else. That guy downstairs. “I’m not sure we should trust this friend of yours.”

“Good. You’re thinking instead of reacting.” He plodded out. “But a little recon will tell me if he can be useful.” He hesitated, his right pec flexing as he tossed something on the bed. “Do I need to put a shirt on?”

Dani blinked and looked away but not before seeing the smile on his face. “Why are you grinning?” Was he teasing her for staring?

He held out his palm. A brown leather cord held a beautiful shell pendant in the shape of a sun.

She drew in a breath. “It’s so pretty.”

“Good. I got it for you.”

Seriously? “Why?”

Pinching the clasps, he held it out, as if wanting to put it on her.
“Because we’ve had too much rain and too little sun, so …”

Dani lifted her hair and turned her back to him, craning her neck as he slipped it on. “My own piece of sunshine.”

“Exactly.” His fingers tickled the nape of her neck, then slid down her shoulders.

Fingering the pendant next to her mom’s rose, she stared at him in the mirror. Strange feelings roiled through her, the biggest of which was uncertainty. The man she’d held up as a hero bore wounds with no tangible scars. He was broken, hiding things. And out there on the street, he’d avoided her kisses. But would he buy her a necklace if he didn’t return her feelings?

Canyon’s smile faded.

“Thank you,” she said, though it took every ounce of concentration. She shifted toward him, locked in his magnetic gaze.

Electricity filled the air as his fingers trailed along her jaw. But he shook his head and curled his hand into a fist. “Sorry.”

His apology sliced through her, yanking out every last vestige of hope. Heart thumping, she unleashed her venom. “I’m sorry I can’t please you. I’m sorry I’m not good enough that you’d want to fight for me.”

“Roark, listen—”

“No. I’m sick of this. I can’t figure out how you feel about me. One second you seem ready to kiss me senseless, then the next you’re Tarzan herding Jane through the jungle.” She shrugged, fighting off the tears. “Did you not hear what I said out there? And you have no response to that? Or is your silence the only response I can expect?”

“Roark, we’ve been through a lot since landing here. It’s understandable that you think you like me—”

“
Think
I like you?” Her voice shrieked through the room. “I said I
love
you. And this isn’t some stupid transference or Stockholm syndrome or whatever. I’ve loved you since the day you showed up at the hearing. I felt it, Canyon. It’s real, not made up.” She felt the ache at the back of her throat again. “Why won’t you believe me? Or is it just easy for you to step aside and hand me to Range?”

Canyon jerked. “Easy?” He shuffled closer. “This isn’t
easy
. It’s pure hell.”

Defiance sparked in her chest as she spun away from him, feeling petulant. “Good, then you know a little of what I’ve felt.”

He stalked toward her. “You think I like turning off what I feel for you—?”

“So, you
do
feel?”

He scowled down at her. “Of course I feel. Just because …” Canyon shifted around. Paced as he ran both hands through his short crop. He looked back at her. “I—” Elbows back, hands fisted, he seemed ready to punch something or someone. His breathing grew labored. “It
kills
me each time I have to step out of the way so he can have a chance—”

“Have to?” Her eyes stung. “Why do you
have
to step out of the way?”

The ridge over his eyes knotted. “In high school,” he said, his voice quiet and hoarse as he slumped against the dresser and folded his arms. “I was a class-A jerk.”

“Not much has changed.”

He shot her a glare, and she couldn’t help but toss him an impish smile.

“I had everything—voted most popular, homecoming king, football captain—you name it. Always had to be bigger, better, stronger than everyone else. It drove me, controlled me.” Hands on the dresser he let out a long breath. “I stole Range’s girlfriend right before prom.”

She let her shoulders drop. “That’s mean, but I don’t understand what that has do—”

“She was the only girl Range ever liked or asked out. To him, she
did
hang the sun, the moon, the stars—the whole freakin’ galaxy.” Canyon shrugged. “I was mad and jealous because Mom and everyone made such a big deal over it. My getting scouted for baseball—something I’d wanted more than anything out of life—nobody cared about because Range finally had a girlfriend. So I stole her to spite him.”

“That’s why …?”

“He planned to marry her.” He seemed to deflate. “I was a stupid twenty-year-old grunt. Reckless and self-centered.” He swallowed—hard. “My idiocy ruined my relationship with my family. I vowed to never make that mistake again. So when you showed up, I got waved off. I haven’t been able to live that down, and I don’t think Range ever forgave me for stealing his girlfriend.”

Her chin trembled. “Why am I not worth stealing?”

Did she really say that? Or really look as childish as she felt? It had to be the exhaustion and stress dragging out all her horrible character traits. The dresser rattled as he pushed off it. When he started toward her, she held out a hand. “No. Don’t.” She sucked in a long breath, shook her head, then let it out. “Forget I said that.”

Canyon paused, hands fisted.

“I’m tired and not thinking straight.” Wrecked. It was the only word she could find to describe the look on his face. And it was because of what
she said. Glancing around the room she searched for something to redirect their attention. “It’s dark. Weren’t you going to check on that farm?”

He said nothing.

“Maybe you should go now.”

Relief and yet heartache strangled her when he quietly turned, grabbed his shirt and vest, then climbed out the window.

Near Bruzon’s Facility 5 May

Stacked along the perimeter fence, Max knelt and stared down the sights of his M4 as Squirt and Aladdin connected the device, effectively bypassing the electricity humming through the steel-cabled gate.

A crackle in his earpiece sped up his heart. A signal from Cowboy. He motioned to Squirt and Aladdin, who ceased working and pulled back. The warning hadn’t given them the time they’d need to take cover. Max anticipated the guard’s attention.

Within seconds, the overweight man slumped to the ground.

Aladdin leapt back to work. A few more strokes on his digital readout and the current ran around the device, affording them an opening in the circuitry and fence. Squirt cut through the cable.

Max slid through and scrambled to the guard. He lifted the man’s earpiece and handed it off to Squirt, who tucked it into his ear. Even in the darkness, Max saw the man’s eyes dart back and forth. Squirt adjusted it, then gave a nod. With Aladdin’s help, they dragged the guard out of the secured area into the tree line. While Max and Aladdin kept watch, Squirt changed into the guy’s uniform.

No need for anyone to find the guard and realize someone had entered. Hopefully by the time the man’s body or absence was discovered, they’d be on a helo, or at least, on their way out. They sprinted back to the opening, crawled through, then Aladdin secured the fence so the opening wasn’t noticeable at first glance or through binoculars. Max keyed his mic, and a confirmation crackled through the coms.

Half-bent, they darted to the first building, slid along its rear side, then stacked up again by the parking garage. Using hand signals, he ordered Aladdin to the vehicle parked two yards from the back entrance. Max scanned the open area as the former assassin hustled across the paved lot.