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“At fourteen?” He sounded impressed.
She nodded. She still remembered the excitement of winning the role. Her mother had spent weeks going over the part with her, helping her master the nuances of the character. Her father had attended rehearsals with her and subtly, for him, given directorial advice to everyone who’d listen. Belinda had wallowed in their support. She’d soaked up their attention and thrived on it. All the while, at the same age, John had been alone on the streets.
“Don’t feel bad for me, Hollywood,” John said, proving yet again that he could read her mind. “I had good things in my life too. At fourteen, I met Joe, Grunt, Harvard, and Noah. They never once looked at me differently because I was a street kid. Harvard’s mother took me under her wing, shouted at me until I went back to school, then hounded me until my grades were acceptable to her. Joe’s mom fed me every time I turned up at her house, which was a lot. That woman can cook. Noah’s parents let me sleep in his room more times than I can remember. And Grunt, well, even as a kid he was the size of a house. He mainly scared the crap out of anyone who gave me a hard time.”
She smiled, lifted his hand to her mouth and took her time kissing each of the letters. They were precious. They were marks testifying to his survival. She gathered her courage and looked him square in the eyes. What she saw there, the emotion in his gaze, made her heart swell. “I don’t want this to end when we get out of here,” she whispered.
She was laying her heart on a platter at his feet, hoping he didn’t trample all over it when he ran from her.
He turned his hand over in her grasp to thread his fingers with hers. “Baby, we live in different worlds.”
“Then we make a new one. One that fits us both.”
“I don’t think it’s that easy. People will talk about you. They’ll wonder what you’re doing with someone like me. They’ll think there’s an angle I’m playing, and they’ll dig into my past. What will happen once all those tabloid reporters find out I’m the son of a hooker? How will you cope with that? Hell, I don’t even know how I’d cope. Being with me will damage your reputation, Hollywood. Maybe even your career.”
“That’s rubbish.” Like she would care if it did. People could think what they liked. She projected an image for them anyway. None of them really knew her. Their opinions counted for nothing. “Don’t make excuses, John. If you don’t want to be with me, say so.”
“Now, isn’t this sweet?” someone said from beside John.
They jerked apart. John was on his feet. He spun towards the threat and found a gun pressed against his chest. Belinda gasped as the blood drained from her face. They’d been caught. It was over. They were going to die.
The man shouted something over his shoulder in Spanish then smirked at John. And John moved like lightning. His fist struck out, hitting the man in his throat, while John grabbed the gun with his other hand. He twisted it away from the man as he grasped his throat, gasping for breath. He collapsed to the forest floor.
John turned to her, put a hand under her arm and hoisted her to her feet.
“Run,” he ordered her. “Lean on me. But run.”
They set off, racing into the jungle, letting it swallow them whole. They heard shouts behind them, sharp orders snapped in a language Belinda wished she’d taken the time to learn. John dragged her along, but Belinda knew she was slowing them down. Every few steps she took, her knee gave way. She wouldn’t last much longer.
“There.” He pointed at a tree with the gun. “Up the tree. We can hide. Or defend ourselves if necessary. Hopefully they won’t even see us.” He didn’t wait for her answer before he was lifting her into the tree. “Go as high as you can.”
He was close behind her. Together they climbed until John put his hand on her arm and stilled her. She was out of breath, gasping for oxygen in the thick soup that made up the Amazon’s air. Her knee was agony. It throbbed continuously, sending sharp streaks of pain up and down her leg.
“Down.” He pushed her flat to her belly on the thick branch beneath her.
A second later, he was on his stomach on the branch next to hers. The leaves surrounded them, hiding them from above and below. Voices drew closer, and Beast motioned for her to stay silent. Belinda held her breath, afraid even that would alert someone to their presence. There was the unmistakable sound of something crashing through the foliage, and then Belinda heard people beneath them.
She waited, praying for a miracle as the men shouted to each other in Spanish. There was some sort of commotion, and then they ran past the tree where Belinda and John hid. Her heart beat so loud in her chest that she was sure everyone could hear it. It was a drum, summoning her attackers to her position. Calm—she had to be calm. She inched her hand towards John and wrapped her fingers in his shirt at this side.
And then they waited.
There had been five men. Now there were four. Beast had taken one out, and they weren’t happy about it. They shouted to each other as they frantically searched the forest, looking for any sign of Beast and Belinda.
Beast was painfully aware of Belinda’s ragged breathing. She was in pain. Her leg was worse than she let on, and she was running a fever, which told him her body was fighting an infection. Probably from one of the knife wounds the bastard had given her. She needed a doctor. If things got worse, she’d need a hospital. Time was fast running out for them.
The sounds of the men crashing around faded into normal jungle noise. They’d run ahead of Beast and Belinda’s hiding place, thinking the pair were still running. Beast kept an eye on the time and waited. They couldn’t stay up the tree indefinitely. This wasn’t the first team of men the kidnappers had sent into the forest to find them. These men weren’t the ones Beast had stolen from the night before, and from what he’d overheard, there were other teams out looking for them too. The leader of the kidnappers had offered a reward for whoever managed to return them to him. Their chances of making it out of the forest without getting caught were getting smaller by the minute.
Beside him, Belinda shivered, in heat warm enough to cook chicken. She was definitely running a fever. He looked over at her and noted that her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were a little glassy. She smiled at him, and his heart melted. For a woman who understood dramatic timing, she’d sure picked exactly the wrong moment to tell him she wanted a future outside of the jungle. He’d given her the sensible answer. It was not the one he’d wanted to give her. His newly discovered heart had told him to hold on to her and never let her go.
“Is it safe now?” she mouthed.
Beast checked his watch; forty minutes had passed. If the men were going to head back towards them, they would have done so by now.
“I’ll go down first, make sure it’s clear.” It also meant he could hold her up. She didn’t look like she had the strength to climb down a tree.
She nodded and fell silent again. Beast was worried. His Belinda wasn’t quiet. His Belinda chattered when she was scared. He trailed his fingertips across her forehead on the pretence of brushing her hair out of her eyes. She was burning up. Beast swallowed hard. His medical knowledge was about as good as his jungle craft. All he knew for sure was that he had to get her to help, and fast.
Slowly, he shifted to his feet and made his way down the tree, stopping every couple of feet to listen. He signalled Belinda to follow, watching carefully when she did. Her usual agile movements were awkward and stiff, a sure sign that things were getting worse. Together, they made their way to the ground, where they stood still and listened.
