Page 83 of No Angel


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37

GABRIEL

I just hung there, staring at the surface of the water, my brain refusing to accept what I’d seen. My hand was still outstretched to grab her. I’d been no more than a foot from taking her hand.

No. No, she can’t be— No!

I panted in fear, scanning the river frantically. But she didn’t surface.

I was barely aware of being hoisted upward. The soldiers were hauling the remains of the rope bridge up onto the cliff, and me along with it. I didn’t resist as they pulled me roughly up onto solid ground, my eyes still locked on the river. It was only when they zip tied my hands behind my back that I finally looked up and stared at Danny and Marcos. Their faces were as slackly pale as mine must have been.

It was real. She was gone.

It felt like a black hole was growing in my chest, sucking everything in until there was nothing left. Going home, the gold, us being captured…none of it felt like it mattered, anymore.

The soldiers loaded us into the back of a truck and we set off along a dirt road. Not long after, we stopped to pick up JD, Cal, Bradan and Colton. They laid Dr. Guzman’s stretcher on the floor of the truck and sat us in two rows on either side, facing each other. Guzman was fading fast: he’d die if we didn’t get him to a hospital soon. Not that it made much difference now: once he’d found out what we knew, Major Zamora would kill us all.

As the truck moved off again, we all stared at each other’s boots, grimly silent. There was nothing to say.

We’d lost her.

The woman we’d come here to rescue, the reason why this team had been thrown together in the first place, the sweetest, most innocent member of our little family. All of us had bonded with her. But as we sat there, brooding and miserable, I could feel the attention turning my way: little glances, sideways looks. They knew it was way worse for me.

They knew I’d been in love with her.

I saw Cal watching me with those eyes that saw everything. He’d known, even right back in Mount Mercy, when he’d asked why we were doing this mission. And he knew what it was like to love someone, to need someone: I’d seen the way he missed Bethany.

Danny, directly across from me, shook his head. “Sorry, mate,” he said, his voice tight with emotion.

Bradan gave me a sympathetic nod, then turned away, looking ill. Relationships, like everything else, were new to him. This was probably the first time he’d imagined losing Stacey.

Marcos was tending to Dr. Guzman. He looked up and caught my eye, then gave me a nod, solemn and heartfelt. I nodded back. All the anger between us was gone: we’d both lost her.

Colton just silently seethed, scowling at the floor in fury. Given how much the guy cursed out loud, I couldn’t imagine what he was saying about himself in his head. The poor guy thought it was his fault: if he hadn’t been scared of heights, if that hadn’t delayed us on the bridge…but the truth was, it was only one person’s fault.

Mine.

If I hadn’t flirted with her in prison, she wouldn’t have stood up to the governor to save me and she would never have come to Ecuador. She should be back in America, safe, instead of—

Someone pressed their shoulder against mine, the closest thing to a comforting pat that we could manage, with our hands tied. I glanced to my right and saw JD. Just a few days ago, I couldn’t have imagined him offering me any kind of comfort, or me accepting it. But now I’d seen him in action, I realized he was one hell of a leader. And he was decent, in an old-fashioned way I didn’t think still existed, and that was exactly what a bunch of reprobates like us needed, a moral compass to keep us pointing in the right direction.

I nodded to JD in thanks…and saw something in his eyes, a deep sadness. I’d only seen it once before, when Olivia had mentioned family around the campfire.

My stomach flipped over, and I stared at him in shock. He looked away, but I knew what I’d seen.

He understood how I was feeling because he’d lost someone, too.

The truck rumbled deeper into the jungle, carrying us to our fate.

38

OLIVIA

My face broke the surface again and I snatched a mouthful of air. Then the current dragged me deep down again, tumbling me over and over along the bottom, my arms and legs picking up fresh bruises as I pinballed off rocks. I was completely at the mercy of the river: the current was far too strong to swim against and even if I wanted to try, I couldn’t use my arms because I had to keep them wrapped protectively around my head. If my skull hit one of the rocks, I was dead.

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