She had fire, he’d give her that. Not many people had the guts to get in his face, especially a woman. Another time, he might have appreciated the trait, but right now he wasn’t in the mood for this shit. They only had a few more hours before the sun started to set, and this break wasn’t part of the plan.
Wade threw her a pointed look. “Is it that time of the month?”
Yeah, he knew it was a dick thing to say. If he’d pulled that shit on his sister, Larissa, she probably would have smacked him upside the head and then forced him to listen to a chronicle of her monthly menace in excruciating detail. But for some strange reason, he couldn’t resist pushing Hope’s buttons.
As expected, anger narrowed her eyes. Steam practically poured from her ears. “Keep it up, asshole, and you’ll be the one waking up in a pool of blood.”
“All right, that’s enough.” Hector inserted himself between them and shot Wade a warning glare. “Now let’s all just step back, take a deep breath, and give Hope a little room to think.” He unscrewed his canteen and offered it to her. “Thirsty?”
“Yes, thank you.” Hope took a long drink, and Wade watched her throat muscles move each time she swallowed. As she screwed the cap on, she surveyed the area, her face taut with concentration. At last, she pointed to the right. “I think it’s this way.”
“You think or you know?” The last thing Wade wanted was to get hopelessly lost because their guide took a shot in the dark. If that were the case, he’d rather abandon the op and live to see another day.
She threw him some world-class shade. “I think. That tree over there seems familiar, but considering I might have only seen it once, I can’t say with one hundred percent certainty. If you want something more definitive, then you should have hired a local to guide you.”
In a perfect world, he would have done just that. Unfortunately, the locals viewed Roberto Aranza as some sort of Mexican Robin Hood. The drug lord had paid for the construction of the town’s only church, and he was rumored to be the source of funding behind the recently built school and soccer field.
Those acts of goodwill had gone a long way with the people who lived in the impoverished area. They didn’t see him as a ruthless criminal who’d killed more people than Freddy Krueger. Instead, they saw a generous benefactor, and they went out of their way to overlook his dark deeds.
Wade made a mocking, sweeping motion in the direction Hope had indicated. “Lead the way.”
Her expression said drop dead, asshole, but she didn’t utter a word. With a huff, she trudged off into the thigh-high vegetation, swatting brush and branches out of her way, and he couldn’t help but notice how her slim-fitting pants hugged the contours of her backside.
Hector fell in line with Wade’s strides and lowered his voice to avoid being overheard. “Would it kill you to be nice? She’s our only lead, for Christ’s sake.”
“I’m well aware of that.” Determined to avoid stepping on anything poisonous, Wade kept his focus on the path Hope had created. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were sweet on her.”
Hector let out a snort as he slapped at the side of his neck. “The view’s nice, but she’s too young for me. I’m just trying to keep this operation afloat. For someone who wants Aranza so badly, you’re doing everything you can to fuck this up.”
Before Wade could respond, Hector broke into a jog to catch up with Hope, leaving Wade to stew in his thoughts.
The last thing he wanted was to jeopardize the mission. It was the very first thought to enter his mind in the morning and the last before he went to sleep. Well, the second to last before sleep. Then again, Carmen was his reason for the mission, so he supposed they were one and the same.
Up ahead, Hector tilted his head toward Hope and said something too low for Wade to hear. She let out a low, husky laugh, the first he’d ever heard from her. It stirred things inside him that he couldn’t define and didn’t want to examine too closely.
Hindsight being twenty-twenty, Hope should have taken her chances with the cops.
Normally, she didn’t let remarks like that bother her, but she was exhausted, sweaty, dirty, her feet hurt, her back was stiff, and the spot on her neck where something had bitten her was starting to itch like crazy. She wasn’t in the mood for Wade acting like a jerk and making a bad situation worse.
Still stewing, she stomped through the thick underbrush that scratched against her legs. Spanish moss dangled from low-hanging branches, and Hope tried not to think about what might be slithering on the ground by her feet.
She refused to acknowledge the sound of approaching footsteps. She didn’t care which one of them it was. As far as she was concerned, they were both assholes—though, for what it was worth, she’d reached the conclusion that they had no intention of hurting her. It was the only reason she hadn’t tried to ditch them in the middle of the night. She’d keep her end of the bargain, and then they damn well better take her straight to the American consulate like they’d promised.
After that, good-bye and good riddance.
Whoever it was, he didn’t say anything, just fell in line beside her and matched her stride for stride. Eventually, curiosity got the better of her, and she slid a quick peek to her left and saw it was Hector.
He slapped the side of his neck and grimaced. “I’m curious. How come the bugs aren’t eating you alive?”
“Eucalyptus oil. I dab a little on my skin every few hours. It’s not a hundred percent effective, but I’ll take what I can get.” And no, she wasn’t sharing. As it was, she’d probably run out long before they made it back to civilization.
She slanted another glance at him. Poor guy. The bugs were having a field day with him. Too bad she was out of hydrocortisone. “You didn’t bring insect repellent?”
“I’ve got some spray in my pack, but it only seems to encourage them.”
She laughed, and then realized it had been months since she’d had anything to laugh about.
Hector unsheathed his machete and hacked a low-hanging branch so she could pass without ducking. “Look, I know he’s rough around the edges, but try not to let him bother you.”
Hope scoffed. “I’ve dealt with his type my entire career.”
Guys like Wade were a dime a dozen in the military, where she’d served as an Army surgeon for eight years. Over the course of her service, she’d treated enough testosterone junkies to last her a lifetime. Pararescue jumpers. Explosive ordinance disposal techs. Special Ops were some of the worst. Many of them disliked being treated by a female doctor and weren’t shy about expressing those opinions.
But even if they intimidated her, she’d quickly learned not to show it. The second you did, it was all over, and they ran roughshod over you.
“He wasn’t always like this,” Hector said.
“Like what, an asshole?” She paused for a moment to take in the terrain. About a hundred yards out, a massive tree stood at a sixty-degree angle, and she remembered walking past it just a day or so ago.
Shaking his head, Hector chuckled. “You don’t mince words, do you, sweetheart?”
“I do when I’m dealing with a patient or their family. Any other time, not so much.” And even then, her bedside manner only went so far. There was a limit to how much abuse she was willing to put up with. It was something her uncle had taught her at a young age: know your worth, don’t settle for less, and never expend precious energy on people who don’t appreciate you.