“An education?”
“I was Carmen’s maid, her playmate, and her study partner. In the end, we became the best of friends. We joke that we’re sisters from another mother. I couldn’t be closer to anyone than Carmen.”
“Your friend is an amazing woman.”
“Do you think your team got her out?”
“Absolutely. Right now, Carmen’s more worried about you.”
“She shouldn’t be.”
“Why?” He gives me a look.
“Because I’ve got you.”
Not sure if that hitch in his breath is from my words or something else. Hayes is silent for some time, perhaps pondering what I said.
“The friendship you and Carmen forged is a precious thing. I hate that you were taken from your home, and that you haven’t seen your family since, but if you got a loyal friend out of it, I suppose it all worked out in the end.”
“I almost got free.”
“Free?”
“Yeah, I was a bright student; learned to read and write and mastered the basic subjects. Carmen tried to get me to follow her to UCSF. I was accepted, but her father refused to let me go with her. Those were a long four years, living under that roof, knowing what happened beneath…”
“I’m sorry you had to witness any of that.” His tone softens. “Did—were you ever…” He can’t articulate the question, but I understand.
“Just the first night…” It’s a memory I’ve never shared with another soul.
“Matias?” Hayes’s voice turns into a growl.
“I told no one. Not even Carmen. It would break her heart to know what happened. Somehow, she knew, or suspected, Matias’s intentions toward me were not what they should be. She begged her father to keep the men away from me. He’s not a kind man, but he loves his daughter. Or did. I guess that’s over now.”
“I suppose it is.”
My fingers lift to my throat, where I feel at the cut. Puffier than before, it’s warm to the touch. We hike in silence for a bit until I spy a Tawari tree off in the distance.
I spin around and Hayes comes to a stop.
“What’s up?”
“Found it.”
“Found, what?”
“The Tawari tree. It’s just over there.” I head toward the tree.
“Tell me again what’s special about this tree?” He follows beside me, matching his much longer stride to mine.
“The bark has many benefits. It fights tumors and staves off infection.”
“And how does it do that?”
“I peel the bark. Pound it into a mash. Then put it on the cut.” I look for a suitable stone, something concave, and a smaller stone to grind the bark.
“How can I help?” Hayes tilts his head back to peer into the canopy far above our heads.
I show him how to peel away the outer layers of bark to get to the softer interlayers. I pick at it with my fingernails, but he pulls out a wicked blade.
“Here, this should help.” He shaves off what I need, and before I know it, I have a handful of the pulpy bark.
I crush what I can with my hands, then squat down beside the rock I found. Placing the pulp in the concavity, I grind the hard fibers into a mash. Once it becomes a little sticky, I gather it in my fingers and apply it over the cut in my throat.
“And that works?” Hayes watches the entire time. “How is it going to stay on?”
“It will. Did you know most modern medicines come from plants grown in the rainforests? It’s more refined, of course, and heavily processed, but the raw version is equally potent. I’ve used it before, on myself, my parents, and whenever my brothers and sisters got cuts on their feet, or on their arms from running through the forest. We never had problems with infection.”
“Color me impressed. That’s one area where I’m weak.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’m a survival junkie, which means I like to prepare for the worst.”
“The worst?”
“You know, when civilization goes to hell? Subsistence living, kind of how you grew up. Being self-reliant on what you can farm, forage, or kill.” From his tone, he’s serious. “You’d make a great addition to my survival crew.”
“What’s that?”
“You know? The people you want to survive the apocalypse with? I’ve got the protection, building, and hunting down. You’ve got the medicinal herbalist. You can be the medicine woman.”
“That’s a joke, right?” There’s a lightness in my belly and a fluttering of my pulse. The idea of living with Hayes brings other thoughts to mind, but I tamp those down. His survival crew is nothing but a fantasy.
“The guys think it’s a joke, but I’ll be the one laughing when the shit hits the fan. They’re on my survival team too.” The way he says it with a straight face makes me decide to leave that conversation for later.
Right now, I need to tend to my wound and keep the mash from falling off as we continue our hike.
“Still have those leaves?”
“Yup.” He pulls out the rolled leaves he gathered earlier and hands them to me.
I take them and fold one of the long leaves in half and wrap it around my throat. Then I take another leaf, fold it in half, and then half again. I thread that one through and around the first leaf, braiding it until it’s tight and secure.
Looking up at Hayes, I point to the leaf wrapped around my neck. “How do I look?”
“Like you’ve got a leaf wrapped around your neck.” One of his brows arches up.
He’s handsome when he does that, and the way the corner of his mouth lifts into a grin makes him look like the handsomest man on earth. That brings that flush back to my cheeks. With it, the memory of the kiss that wasn’t a kiss comes flooding back. My mind is weird like that, and that fluttering sensation in my belly is back.
I spent the night in his arms. Normally, that would mean something, but I’m just a job to him. Someone to rescue and protect; a package he needs to deliver safe and sound at the other end.
“We should get going.” He glances back the way we came. “I don’t think anyone’s following us, but we’re leaving a trail down here. Best we get out of the jungle and work our way back to civilization.”
“Of course.” Packing up the rest of the paste I made from the bark, I fold the remaining leaves around it and tuck the package into my back pocket.
Once again, we head off together, close enough to hold hands, but not.
We hike through the jungle and watch for our little river to grow into something big and strong.
Something that will lead us to civilization.
What comes next is up to Hayes. I have no idea what comes next.
TEN
Hayes
There’s something about watching Rosalie create that paste from the tree bark that’s hot as hell. The girl has wicked skills.
She’s independent as fuck. To the survivalist in me, it speaks to my soul.
I’m all for saving those who can’t save themselves, but a woman who can hold her own under tough conditions?
That hits all my buttons.