“We don’t have to do anything at all.” He shifts beneath me. “But I should probably head out and grab some food.”
My stomach rumbles the moment he says that, reminding me the last food we had was on that chicken bus.
“I love the food down here, but I’d give a million bucks for a hamburger right about now.”
“I don’t think that’s on the menu.” Max shifts his body, separating us. He slides off the bed and strides over to the small bathroom while I watch his rock-hard ass.
Not an inch of fat on the man.
He shuts the door, then comes out a few moments later with his pants on. He tosses me my clothes then shrugs on his shirt. While he bends down to put on his boots, I dress in my somewhat clean but hard and scratchy clothes.
“Is there a place to shop around here?” I don’t like how my clothes feel and fidget as they settle on my skin.
“Probably, but who knows when they open. We’ll be out of here soon enough.”
“How soon? How long will it take Knox to find us?” I lean down and grab my shoes.
Max watches with a hard stare. “Bubbles?”
“Yes?”
“I’m not taking you out of this room.”
“Why not?”
“We arrived late at night. Nobody was up. The less we have people talking about us the better.”
“But you’re going out.”
“There’s a big difference between an American man alone and an American man with a gorgeous woman by his side. Especially with Benefield out there.”
“So, what? I have to stay here?”
“You’re safer here.”
“I’m safer by your side. I don’t like you leaving me alone.”
“You won’t be alone.” Max wanders over to the bedside table and grabs my gun. “You’ve got this.”
“And how long will you be gone? How long until I start getting worried?”
“You won’t have to worry about me. I’m just headed out to get something to eat. Nothing fancy.”
“You should stop and get some bandages for your leg.”
“I will.” Max tucks his gun under the waistband of his pants and pulls his shirt out over it. He reaches behind, testing the carry, then looks at the rifle leaning against the wall. “Let me show you how to use that.”
“I’m good with my gun.”
“Nevertheless…” Max doesn’t take no for an answer and spends the next thirty minutes showing me how to handle the gun.
It’s heavy. Smells like metal. And it’s cold, intimidating, and something I never want to touch. Not that I’m anti-gun. It’s just too big and awkward for me.
The next thing, before Max leaves, is another lecture about how to secure the door after he leaves. He shows me how to wedge the chair under the doorknob and how to kick it free.
“Now, when I come back, I’ll give two fast raps on the door, followed by three slow ones. That way you’ll know it’s me.” He demonstrates while I think it’s all overkill.
“If it’s this dangerous for me to be alone, maybe I should come with you?”
“Not happening.” He gives me one long look. “I won’t be long. Half hour tops. Probably a lot less than that.”
“How’s your leg?” It didn’t seem to bother him when we were in bed, but now that he’s up, he favors his good leg.
“Better.” He pulls out the small bottle of pills we got at the tiny village, then pops the remaining pills in his mouth. With a grimace, he swallows them down without any water.
When I tried to take a drink out of the sink last night, he pulled me off, saying something about the safety of the water. The thought of mixing all this up with a bout of Montezuma’s revenge—dysentery with diarrhea, cramps, nausea, and vomiting—kept me away despite my thirst.
On the chicken bus, he bartered for a bottle of soda with a pop-top. In the jungle, we found fresh water as it collected in the leaves of the trees.
Yet again, I can’t wait to get home. First thing I want is a burger and an ice-cold glass of water. Then pizza. And a milkshake. I would die for some ice cream too.
“I’ll be back before you know it.” He draws me into a hug and kisses the top of my head.
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
I take him at his word, but an unsettled feeling comes over me. Not superstitious by nature, I can’t help the feeling something bad is about to happen.
Thirty-Nine
Eve
Time creeps by while Max is gone. I pace the small room. My fingers clench. I wrap my arms around myself. Taking a shower comes to mind, but I can’t shake this feeling that something’s off.
How long has it been?
Not long enough.
I shake out my hands, then roll my neck, getting the kinks out from the lumpy bed we slept in last night. A goofy grin fills my face when I think about what we did in that bed, and what we’ll do as soon as we get out of this place.
I lie back in the bed, staring at the water spots on the ceiling. One looks like the profile of a hunched-over old woman with a basket hanging on her arm. Another looks like a lopsided rabbit—one ear up, one ear down. There’s a shape that looks like a baby’s face, or maybe it’s an old man?
Twiddling my thumbs, I close my eyes and count.
Still no Max.
A sudden puttering from outside makes me jump, but a quick peek out the cloudy glazing on the window only shows the signs of a small town coming to life. A moped zips by with a family of six magically balanced on the small machine. An old truck chugs along the road, belching black smoke into the air as it trundles by. A black SUV roars down the road, spitting gravel out from its back tires. Somewhere down below, a car door opens, then slams shut.
I return to pacing as it’s the only thing that keeps my nerves under control.
Back and forth. Back and forth.
The stomping of boots up the stairs outside draws me to a halt. I cock my ear and hold my breath, listening hard.
There’s a sudden crash and the splintering of wood. Several sets of boots make the floor tremble.
Then I hear my name being called out.
“Oh, Evie? Where are you? Come out, come out wherever you are.”
No, no, no!
Benefield found me, and Max isn’t here. I race around the bed to grab my gun. Max told me to keep the ratty curtains covering the windows closed, but they’re moth-eaten with plenty of holes. If I can see out the blurry window, then he can see in.
Nothing happens for a moment. I breathe out and check my gun. Locked and loaded, I lean against the wall opposite the door and aim the gun at the door.
This lasts for only a few seconds as the gun is too heavy to hold like that. The stomping of boots sounds again. Closer this time.
I take in a shuddering breath.
Max, where are you?
There’s another loud crash as another door gives way.
“Evie, don’t play hide and seek. Come out and let’s talk.” Benefield cajoles from outside.
Never.
I’d rather die than go back to a living hell. I slide down to the floor, keeping my back to the wall. Drawing my legs to my chest, I prop the gun on my knees and point it at the door.