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Mya collapsed the space between us to mere inches, reached for my forearm, and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Pressing up on her toes, she leaned in and whispered, “Carter just told us why the Feds are after them.”
Mya may have been talking, but it was Charley staring at the two of us that captured my attention.
“I’m so sorry, Jack.” Mya’s words rung in my ears as she let go of my arm.
Ripping my focus from Charley and back to Mya, I said after a harsh exhale, “It’s just my luck.” I did my best to erase whatever pathetic look I was probably wearing and went over to Carter. “So, what’s the situation?”
Oliver turned his attention on me. “We just took out two more men that ran through the cleared field en route to us, and Carter overheard a message that another team is being assembled to hunt us down.”
“The cartel must have a local place nearby. Given how deep we are in the jungle, it’ll hopefully be a small site,” Carter said, letting go of the rifle and allowing the sling to catch its weight.
“We stumbled into a beehive, though.” Oliver shook his head. “We either take them down, or they keep coming for us.” When his brows dipped with worry, I followed his gaze to the blood on my arm.
“Not mine,” I casually said, letting him know I didn’t need medical attention.
“You’re not suggesting you attack first, right?” Charley left her sister’s side to join the conversation, and I resisted the impulse to ask her if she was a decent shot or not. Thinking about her murdering someone would reignite my anger and open up all sorts of reactions from my team, and that wouldn’t help the situation.
“Whether we go on offense or defense at this point, it doesn’t matter.” I folded my arms, ignoring the blood sticking to one of them. It must’ve come from being wedged up against Charley. She’d wound up with blood on her when I’d shot one of the narcotraffickers during our jaunt through the deforested part of the jungle. His blood wasn’t on her hands, literally or figuratively, nor was he an innocent man. But it reminded me she did have blood on her hands. It was just eleven years old. And that image was messing with me. “The cartel will keep sending people after us. They must assume we’re . . .” I cleared my throat. “Feds.”
“It’s not what you think,” Charley abruptly snapped out her response to my statement like a reflex.
And my sorry ass wanted to cling to her words.
“Would you all stop looking at us like that?” Lucy’s demand in the quiet of our standoff was like being doused in ice water. “We’re not going anywhere with you if you think we’re killers. Let’s clear the air. Now.” She opened her arms wide as if she could block our movement forward. Stubborn as her sister, so it would seem.
“You’re not a killer.” Charley faced Lucy and snatched her arm. “Just me.”
“But you did it to save me. They need to know the truth.” Lucy yanked her arm free and wound up whacking Mason in the process. “Shit, sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Mason gave her a little nod. From where I stood, Mason didn’t buy whatever Carter had tried to sell about the Lennox sisters being dangerous.
Shit, neither am I, right?
Carter was going off intel my best friend told him. But Gray was going by whatever the Feds had about them in their system, and I knew that shit could be easily cooked up. Rewritten and couched in terms to mislead and redirect blame.
Charley slowly faced me, a sad look in her eyes as she asked, “The truth doesn’t matter right now, though, does it?”
“It doesn’t,” Carter spoke before I could, which was good, because my stomach was busy being too nauseous for me to talk. “We need to make it out of this jungle alive, and we still have a mission to complete.” He peered at Lucy, then Charley.
“That’s assuming even if we make it back to the lodge tomorrow with the ‘treasure’ they’ll let us stay,” I pointed out the grim truth. “All I know is that if our kidnapper is somehow responsible for this shit show today, they don’t want it happening on camera, which is why the ‘accidental’ run-in with the narcos.”
“Because the show must go on,” Oliver muttered sarcastically under his breath. “But does that mean we’re going after these bastards now hunting us, or are we setting a trap to pick them off when they come for us?”
Before anyone could answer him, the familiar sound of blades chopped the sky in the distance, drawing our focus.
“Looks like they’re not giving us a choice. We’re back on the run again,” Oliver remarked, grabbing Mya’s arm. “And I’m thinking we’re going to be taking a swim. How do you feel about waterfalls? I know you hate cenotes.”
Cenotes? Right, they’d had to swim the jungle in Mexico last year on an op. And from what I’d later learned, Mya hadn’t been amused by Oliver’s strategy to keep her from screaming while forcing her to jump into a hole in the ground.
“So help me, if you put your grubby hand over my mouth this time, I’ll—”
“What happened exactly?” Mason interrupted Mya, then shook his head and waved his hand. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.”
I hadn’t been sure if the forced fight between him and Oliver yesterday had done anything to alleviate the tension between them, but now, I was pretty sure it had. Mason was giving up and moving on, wasn’t he? Not that it mattered at the present time, but I felt him slowly surrendering to the idea Mya’s heart was elsewhere.
“Let’s get to the waterfall, then.” I’d much rather take my chances in the water than get picked off from a rifle in the sky.
Everyone except Charley began following Oliver, and Charley’s hands found my chest as she blocked my path to go.
