Vice(38)

“Where did Ocho go?” he demands, looking around for the man.

I keep my mouth shut tight. Natalia doesn’t say a word either, though she saw him walk off as well. None of his other men witnessed where he went, so no one gives Fernando the answer he’s looking for. Does not go down well.

“You. You,” he says, pointing at two of his men. “Come with me. Natalia, would you prefer to continue hunting, or do you wish to join us in looking for Ocho?”

“I think I’d prefer to carry on with the hunt, if that’s okay with you, Father?” She needs to hide her anxiety a little better. Her voice sounds too high, too airy. It makes her seem afraid. Fernando doesn’t seem to notice, however.

“So be it.” Fernando casts his eye over his remaining men, until his gaze finally rests on me. “Kechu, you will look after my daughter, won’t you? You’re a good shot. Don’t let anything eat her.”

I’m shocked. A few days ago he was telling me to stay away from her, warning me not to speak to her alone or swear in front of her, otherwise he was going to cut off my tongue. Now he’s telling me to take her out into the highlands of Ecuador by myself. “Of course, I’ll take excellent care of her. I promise.”

Fernando nods, and then he dashes off through the trees. Natalia doesn’t wait for the remainder of her father’s men to disappear back into the rainforest. She collects her rifle up and slings it over her shoulder, hurrying off without another word. We’re a hundred feet away from the other men when she spins around and stabs me in the chest with her finger.

“What are you thinking? Why are you going off with him alone, when he’s carrying a gun? Didn’t I tell you he wants you dead?” The alarm in her voice is palpable. Her pupils are dilated, huge and black, blocking out the majority of her irises. She looks and sounds terrified, which catches me off guard.

“Whoa, why the hell are you so worried? I can take care of myself.”

“I told you,” she snaps. “Laura was my friend. What do you think she would say if she knew I was letting you gamble so dangerously with your own life? She would want me to make you leave this place.”

“Funnily enough, Laura was always trying to get me to do what she wanted me to do instead of what I wanted to do. And she never succeeded. Why should this be any different?”

Natalia huffs out a frustrated breath. “This game you’re playing has run its course, Mr. America. It’s time for you to go back home.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

She’s clearly losing patience with me. Pacing back and forth along an invisible three-meter long line in front of me, she buries her hands in her hair and growls like the little wolf that she is. “I already told you I’m not like my father, Cade. I don’t like watching people die. I especially don’t like watching people die when they don’t need to. You could easily tie me to a tree and run. Your motorcycle is still where you left it. When my father finds me, I could tell him you didn’t hurt me in any way, and he will probably give you a head start before he sends people after you.”

“I told you. I’m not going anywhere.” Her worry is quite endearing. Her hair is tied into a messy bun on top of her head, and the strands that have escaped her hair tie are plastered to her neck. It’s hot and humid, and the damp air has left a high sheen on her skin that makes her look like she’s covered in massage oil or something. For all that, she’s not dirty, and she doesn’t smell bad, though. She’s only a few feet from me, and I’m practically dizzy from the clean, fresh floral smell that’s coming off her. No wonder she hasn’t caught anything yet—every animal in a five-mile radius can smell her soap on her, and they’ve undoubtedly fled in the opposite direction.

I can’t get over how f*cking perfect she is. She’s like no other woman I’ve laid eyes on before. I’m sure as hell not going to come across another woman like her in the future, that’s for sure. Her freckles are insane. She’s wearing another one of those strappy tank tops, and I can’t stop staring at the countless galaxies and constellation of dots that mark her skin.

“You’re being stubborn. And stupid,” she snaps. “You American men always think you know best. No one can ever tell you otherwise.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s just men in general,” I retort, smiling. “At least that’s what Laura would have said.” It’s so weird talking about her in the past tense. In other ways, it isn’t though. For so long I’ve been worrying about Laura, desperately searching for her, leaving no stone unturned in my wake, but there has always been this ugly, terrible seed of doubt buried deep within my subconscious. I’ve suspected that she was dead for a long time. Now, using the past tense sticks on my tongue, but it doesn’t hurt as much as it might if her death had come to me as a complete surprise. I’m still crippled by the knowledge that I failed her, but my heart has been prepared for this moment for what feels like an eternity.

Natalia laughs softly. “You’re right there. I suppose I ought to know better than to try and tell you what to do. Laura told me you were…what was the word she used? Ah, yes. Pig-headed.”

“Pig-headed?” That’s definitely a name Laura would have used for me. I can almost hear her calling me the exact same thing right now. I shake my head, sadness washing over me. “What else did she tell you about me?”