Page 53 of Colombian Chemistry

“No drugs, but yes to the rest.”

“But I’ve got some great weed.” Hector waggled his overgrown eyebrows and gestured to the joint on the table.

“Thanks, but we’re good,” Marcus answered. “But I lost my ditch bag in the Amazon, and I’ve got no weapons, no money, and no ID. I should still have a stash here.”

“You do, mi amigo.” Hector stood up and walked over to a wood-paneled wall. He flipped out a hanging photo and uncovered a digital panel behind it. I watched in awe as he punched in a code, and the wall opened up.

“Holy shit,” I whispered. “That’s some serious spy stuff. You really were James Bond!”

He scoffed then smirked. “James Bond had nothing on me.”

Hector emerged from the small room with several guns and a small bag. “I still have some of your extra IDs here,” he said, gesturing to the bag. “These should be enough to get you where you need to go.”

“Ah, look at this beauty.” Marcus took the gun from Hector. “I missed you, old girl.” He slid his hands down the length of the barrel then kissed the gun before setting it on his lap.

After he took the handgun from Hector as well, he opened the bag at his feet. I saw the pesos inside as well as what looked to be IDs.

“I’ve got more guns if you need them.”

“We need them,” Marcus answered quickly.

Hector sat down again and grabbed his blunt. “Oh yeah? Who are you mixed up with now?”

As he flicked his lighter and lit it, Marcus answered, “Jungle Kings.”

Hector paused from lighting his joint and gave Marcus a stern stare. “Ouch. And here I heard you retired.”

“I did.” He chuckled. “Well, I was. Now I’m back for a little more. I’ve got a serious mess to clean up, but first, I need to get Irene out of the country and back to the States where she’ll be safe. I need a secure line to get ahold of Knox.”

Knox. That was one of his former teammates he’d referred to—the one who’d been taken.

Hector took a big drag off his joint, held his breath for a moment, then sputtered out his next breath with deep hacking. The cloud of smoke blew right over me, and I had to sit on my hands to keep from waving it out of my face.

When he finished choking out the smoke, he nodded. “I’ve got a secure line. Go ahead and make the call. You still have his contact info, or do you need me to hunt it down?”

Marcus nodded. “Yeah. The team and I always have a way to get in touch in case of emergency.”

“I’d say getting caught up with the Jungle Kings constitutes an emergency,” Hector said. “Those are some bad motherfuckers.”

“You’re telling me,” Marcus answered. “Knox can help, though.”

Hector got up and came back with a burner and tossed it to Marcus.

“Sit tight,” Marcus said to me. “I’ve got to call Knox.”

Before he stood up, he stopped just short of kissing my cheek. He froze before his lips connected with me, and his gaze flicked to Hector when he stopped. Even though his lips didn’t touch me, the way the grin split Hector’s face as he stared between us, he may as well have. My heart lifted at the thought he’d gone to kiss me again, and from how surprised he seemed over it, the movement had been instinctual. An automatic response usually natural for a couple far more committed than us. It made me excited that what I was feeling for him may actually be reciprocated.

Even though I was devastated to learn of my father’s situation and that I couldn’t get help from the embassy, there was still a part of me that had cheered when I’d learned Marcus and I wouldn’t be separating. I got to be with him just a little longer. I wasn’t ready to give him up yet... or ever, if I was being honest.

I knew his life was a lonely one, but that little optimistic person inside of me who loved solving impossible equations wondered if maybe he’d change his mind. Just maybe he’d stay with me after all this was over. Because the thought of not being with him again ripped me apart from the inside. I’d never felt this way about anyone, and I couldn’t bear the thought of saying a permanent goodbye.

“I’ll be right back.” He got up and disappeared around the corner.

I watched him go, then sat back on the couch.

“You sure you don’t want?” Hector lifted the joint.

“No, thank you,” I answered, stopping myself from scolding him on the statistics of lung cancer from inhaling smoke regularly.