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“Let’s do this.” I charged through a bush and a rugged vine wrapped around my neck, just about decapitating me. “Fucking hell. Great start to the day.” I yanked the creeper from my neck and tried to tear it out completely, but the damn thing was stronger than me.
“You okay?” Layla asked.
“I’m peachy,” I said.
Morning sunshine was coloring the sky orange and shoving the remnants of night away. “This way.”
Continuing in the direction we’d traveled along yesterday, I kept the river on my left and the jungle on my right, gripped my rifle, and picked up my pace.
As the first rays of sunlight slanted through the dense foliage like laser beams, the smoke smell lingered, pitching my senses into high alert. Danger could be anywhere. Animals. Wildfire. Assholes with weapons trying to kill Layla for some damned burn treatment ointment.
Christ! What was she thinking, coming to this fucking place?
The question was pointless.
Time was against us. We had to reach her laboratory before the window for our rescue closed.
As we pressed on through the jungle, and Layla kept pace with me, my restless thoughts kept drifting back to that kiss. It was good. Damn good. Every time I looked at Layla, I wondered how different our relationship might’ve been if we’d met before that fireball ruined my life. But I had to face reality: I was scarred and broken, and no woman like her would ever truly want me.
“Hunter, look.” She pointed to a bush covered in red and green berries. “It’s a coffee plant. You can eat the cherries.”
She tossed a few of the grape-sized fruits into her mouth.
“They’re high in antioxidants which is why a lot of skincare companies use them. In fact, I include them in my burn ointment to—” She stopped. “Anyway, have some. They’re better than nothing.”
She forced a smile.
I plucked a handful off the tree and shoved them into my mouth. “Taste’s okay.”
“Yeah. Don’t eat the raw bean inside though. It’s not very—”
“Too late.” I swallowed.
She giggled and it was the sweetest sound ever.
“Tell me earlier next time. So, what am I in for? Diarrhea? Vomiting?”
She laughed harder. “Don’t be so dramatic. They just don’t taste very nice raw. That’s all.”
“I can handle that.” I shoved another handful into my mouth. “They taste a bit like watermelon.”
“They do. The reddest ones are the sweetest.” She delicately plucked a few.
“We don’t have time for that.” I slid my hand down the stem, dislodging about twenty into my hand. “Let’s go.”
I shoved one into my mouth, bit around the coffee beans inside, and spat them out.
As we continued our trek, I couldn't shake the feeling we were being watched. Every rustle in the underbrush made me want to shoot something.
It wasn’t long before the humidity made my clothes stick to my skin, making me feel even more trapped in my own body.
Layla must have adapted to this heat because she kept up her pace, and every time I helped her over a log, or through a bush, her green eyes sparkled with determination, impressing the heck out of me. Most of the morning we hiked in silence, and I wondered if she was thinking about our kiss. I damn well was, and it pissed me off no end.
I pulled out my water bottle and offered her a drink.
“Thanks.” She took one small sip and handed the bottle back.
I took a swig, hooked my bottle back onto my vest, and kept on going.
