Come Midnight by Kat Martin
CHAPTER NINE
BREEWASWORKINGwith the women to prepare the evening meal while Derek worked with the men, digging a trench for a new latrine on a rise at the edge of the jungle. Cisco had insisted both of them work, saying they must contribute to the efforts necessary to keep the camp running.
Bree didn’t mind. Doing something helped her pass the hours while they waited for word from her father. Derek worried it was just an effort to separate the two of them. Bree prayed he was wrong.
Shoving back a loose strand of blond hair that had escaped her ponytail, she tightened her grip on the bare tree branch she was using to stir the men’s dirty clothes in a big iron pot of boiling water. It was a hot, cloudless afternoon, worse working over the flames of the fire. She was careful to keep her ankle-length, gathered red skirt safely out of the way.
“Well, Ms. Wingate, I see they’ve put you to work.” The sound of Julio Montez’s voice sent a trickle of fear down her spine. She didn’t know what it was about him that put her on edge, but she trusted her instincts, particularly where this man was concerned.
He smiled, all Mr. Charm. “It pains me to see you treated no better than a servant. It’s much cooler in my tent. Why don’t you join me? We’ll have something cold to drink, and it’ll give us a chance to talk.”
She glanced around for Derek and spotted him through the trees, shovel in hand, digging at the top of the rise. “I don’t think so. I wouldn’t want Señor Castillo to get the wrong idea.”
“Señor Castillo is busy making plans. He has given me use of the tent for the afternoon. Shall we go? Or do I need my friends to escort you?”
She glanced around and saw two soldiers standing by, obviously there to do his bidding. The message was clear. She could go willingly, or they would drag her there by force.
She started walking toward Castillo’s big tent, off in the trees at the edge of the lush jungle. The soldiers followed. A knot formed in her stomach and began to squeeze tighter with every step closer to the tent. One of Montez’s men opened the flap, and she walked inside. Montez followed, and the flap closed behind him.
“Some refreshments?” he asked as if they were friends, but she didn’t miss the icy determination in his blue eyes.
Her survival instincts grew stronger, and her heart began to speed erratically. “All right.” Anything to draw out the moment and give her some time. Perhaps Castillo would return. General Batista was somewhere in the camp, but she hadn’t seen him since Castillo’s arrival. And general or not, Montez was one of El Defensor’s soldiers. No help there.
Montez poured her a glass of white liquid, the horchata with guaro the men had been drinking last night. He handed it over, poured himself a glass and drank down a good portion of it.
“Now you,” he challenged.
She took a sip and set the glass on a nearby table.
“Finish it,” he commanded.
“I’m not in the mood to get drunk.”
His mouth hardened even as he smiled. “It might make things more pleasant for you.”
Her heart was beating hard now, pounding in her temples. “What things?”
He set his empty glass down on the table next to hers. “We both know why I brought you here. I intend to have you, Ms. Wingate. The beautiful daughter of one of the world’s wealthiest men? It will be a memory I treasure.”
Her mouth dried up. She forced a calm note into her voice. “Are you sure you want to take that kind of risk at this crucial stage of your operation? Aren’t you worried about my father? If you hurt me, he won’t pay you.”
“Your father wants you back alive. He’ll pay whatever we ask.”
It was true.
“You’re not a virgin,” Montez continued, moving closer. “Keep your mouth shut and you and I will be the only people who ever know.”
She was standing next to the table. As Montez came up behind her, she picked up his empty glass and gripped it in her hand as tightly as she could. When Julio pressed his lips against the back of her neck, she whirled, smashed the glass into the side of his head and ran.
She had almost reached the tent opening when Montez caught up with her. His head was bleeding, his jaw clenched into a line of fury. Gripping her wrist, he spun her around and slapped her hard across the face.
“You shouldn’t have done that.” Dragging her deeper into the tent, he slapped her again, and Bree cried out.
The glass of horchata she had been drinking crashed to the floor as Montez pushed her down over the table and came up behind her.
Bree screamed and started fighting.
DEREKWASALREADYmoving as Bree and Montez entered the big canvas tent. Shovel in hand, Derek disappeared off the rise into the rain forest. Whatever Montez had in mind, it wasn’t good.
The sound of Bree’s scream sent him running. One of the men guarding him shouted for him to stop, but he just increased his speed. The guards, a brawny man with greasy black hair and a shorter man with rotten teeth, took off at an angle, cutting a path between him and the tent.
As the men drew near, Derek whirled and used the shovel as a weapon, holding it like a bat, cracking the metal spade against the brawny man’s head, jamming the handle into the shorter man’s chest, then knocking him in the head. Both men went down, and Derek kept running.
Montez had two guards posted outside the tent. Derek wielded the shovel again, taking one of the men down with a blow to the shoulder, then shoving the blade into his stomach. The guy’s eyes rolled back as he hit the ground.
The other guard moved in. With no room to maneuver, Derek dropped the shovel and swung a punch that sent the second guard crashing into a tree. Derek yanked him up and hit him again. A spray of blood flew into the air. The man groaned when he hit the ground, clearly unconscious.
Derek jerked open the tent flap to see Bree bent over a table, her skirt up around her waist as she fought Montez with every ounce of her strength, kicking and screaming while Montez held her down and tried to work the zipper on his pants.
Derek’s teeth clenched. Blind rage burned through him, and an urge to kill Montez with his bare hands.
Grabbing the man by the back of the neck, Derek dragged him away from Bree, whirled him around and smashed a fist into his pretty-boy face. Montez cursed and swung a counterpunch that Derek dodged. Derek threw a series of punches that had Montez bleeding from his nose and mouth, but Montez got in a solid blow that cut into Derek’s cheek.
Keeping his weight on the balls of his feet, he threw a hard right that sent Montez flying across the table, landing in a heap on the patterned carpet. Derek jolted to a halt as a big semiauto appeared in Montez’s hand, retrieved from a leather satchel on the floor next to where he’d landed.
Derek cursed. Montez’s smile looked demonic. He regained his feet, his finger tight on the trigger.
“You shouldn’t have interfered,” he said. “Now I’m forced to call my men in here to hold you down while I enjoy your woman.”
Derek’s jaw tightened. “Touch her, and I’ll kill you.”
Montez just laughed.
Derek considered his options, which were slim and none. Then, from the corner of his eye, he spotted Bree, gripping the handle of the shovel like a baseball bat.
“I won’t let you hurt her,” Derek said, holding Montez’s attention as Bree silently approached.
Montez smiled cruelly. “On second thought, I think I’ll just shoot you. Gives me more time with your woman.”
Bree swung the shovel with all her strength, hitting Montez squarely in the side of the head. Bone cracked, blood spurted and Montez’s eyes rolled back in his head. He hit the floor with a soft thud and lay unmoving, staring into nothing.
Bree started shaking. “Oh God, I think I killed him.”
Derek knew a dead guy when he saw one. Montez would never hurt another woman.
He grabbed hold of Bree’s hand. “We have to get out of here. No choice now but to leave.” The tent was far enough away from the main part of the camp that Castillo’s soldiers hadn’t come running. Derek figured Montez must have ordered them to ignore Bree’s screams and let him do whatever he wanted.
Fresh fury hit him as he pried the gun from Montez’s dead fingers and stuck it into the waistband of his cargo pants. He quickly searched the satchel and said a silent thanks when he came up with a four-inch folding knife.
Flipping it open, he hurried to the rear of the tent and sliced a hole large enough for them to climb through, slipped outside and urged Bree to join him. He made a quick check of the area, but the soldiers still seemed unaware of the happenings in Castillo’s big tent.
Bree’s eyes moved toward the flat spot she could see through the foliage. “The helicopter, right?”
“No choice, baby. Let’s go.”
They hurried toward the open area, Bree hampered by her loose-fitting sandals. Derek helped her over roots and fallen logs as they made their way through the dense jungle undergrowth. There was no trail here, nothing but plants, tall grass and tree branches blocking their way.
He managed to find a game trail, which made things a little easier. Bree’s sandals and long gathered skirt worked against her, making the climb more difficult, but she kept pressing forward. Derek led her up a thickly vegetated hill and came out at the edge of the flat spot where the chopper sat waiting for Castillo’s return.
“What about the clouds?” Bree asked, looking up at the dense white fog circling the mountain a few hundred feet over the ground. Spotty sunlight shone through here and there, but the heavy white mist was too dense to see the hilly, tree-covered terrain surrounding the clearing.
“We’ll have to get above the clouds.” It wasn’t good news. The rain forest was mountainous. If he chose the wrong direction, he could fly straight into the side of a hill.
The good news was that from the moment Derek had seen the chopper land, he had worked to memorize their surroundings as far as he could see in case they found a chance to escape. The knowledge was going to be crucial. He prayed he remembered everything correctly.
Bree started into the clearing, heading for the chopper, but Derek pulled her back.
“No way would they’d leave the helo unguarded.” He eased her back into the cover of the leafy foliage. “Stay here while I take a look.”
He started moving, stopped when he felt her hand on his back. Wordlessly, Bree pointed to a man with a pockmarked face sitting on a stump not far from the chopper. Derek had seen him around the camp—not the pilot, just one of Castillo’s soldados.
He nodded to let Bree know he had spotted the threat. “Be ready to move,” he whispered and slipped off into the jungle.
