Fever by Autumn Archer

16

Where the jungle is my asylum, it’s my hummingbird's wire cage.

I’ve submerged myself in an unpopulated natural habitat, camouflaging scars, and numbing memories that will eternally trouble me.

Love was suspended, and feelings were nullified the nanosecond flames engulfed my blood-stained hands. The longer I held them to the molten heat, the more my humanity charred to ashes.

I’m maimed, with a fractured divide splitting me whole. Unworthy of the poised Scottish woman shooting darts from her sincere glare. And the irony to this curse—Iris is the solder piecing my forgotten existence back together.

The dark brown shade of her eyes matches the earthy tones I call home. I had no intention of imprisoning a female in my domain. This situation has sidetracked my goals and harassed my boundaries.

Last night was a mistake. I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t do it again because I fucking would. Only next time, I would make sure she stayed awake so I could actually fuck her. It would be basic, savage sex. No connection. No meaning. No staring into her eyes and locating the universe. There’s no way I would carefully wipe a healing balm on her wound afterward or ensure she’s comfortably laid out on the mattress and covered with clean bed linen. And I certainly wouldn’t hang around to watch her sleep.

I’m so fucked!

With nothing to substantiate the persistent niggle of distrust, it's clear she isn’t the enemy. And here I am, panic-stricken at how much that fact has switched up my emotions. I’m in awe of her self-assurance and horrified how it flickered with vulnerability when she recommended I end her life without delay.

At this point, I doubt my strength to pull the damn trigger. Although one thing is certain, if she turns out to be the deceptive woman I’ve suspected all along, the revelation will kill both of us.

This funeral wasn’t for the dead soul smothered in the earth—it was for her. Simply, unequivocally, solely for Iris. From the moment I saw images of the destroyed camp to the hours spent by her side while she fought a soaring temperature, I made it happen. I understood the man's soul should have closure, like how Gabriela’s ashes swirled in the wind until she reached the heavens.

Life isn’t a fairytale.

I’m the villain, the jailor, the murderer, the man who’s not interested in finding a partner, never mind love. And the guy who ensured children wouldn't darken his jaded future by going under the knife. I paid Jackson a fitting fee to carry out a vasectomy.

A proud vein thrums in her throat as my unfaltering stern silence nails her in place.

“Is that what you want? To die here. For my men to bury your body in the same grave as your mentor?” An invisible shiver prickles under my shirt. It’s not caused from the desire to take her life. It’s born from a sickly fear that I might have to do it.

Her throat bobs when she swallows. “I’d rather not spend countless years as your depraved sex slave, or worse still, fall pregnant to a man who’s incapable of kindness. I know why you brought me here today.” Her exquisite eyes turn unreadable. “You want to prove Iris is dead. If I bury Bruce, then I’m burying the storm, the research, and my past.”

I cross my arms, trapping a racing heartbeat before it shoots through my chest. “I was robbed of the opportunity to bury someone. As heartless as I may be, I wouldn’t wish that experience on my worst enemy.” A far-off parrot squawks and a tribe of monkeys whoop in the depths of the forest. “As for falling pregnant. Unless you plan to have sex with my staff, you won’t get impregnated by me. It’s medically impossible. That's a promise. And you’re not my sex slave. You’re just an employee. Nothing more. I do not need to drug you again. Our time has ended.” I motion to my men, shifting the last few shovels of dirt. “If you continue to work at the oasis without any trouble, I won’t have a reason to reopen that grave and chisel your old name into the wooden cross.”

Her lashes flutter as she sways. An indecipherable look flashes in her eyes. Sunlight dapples the back of her head, glowing around her body with an aura of purity.

“Do you understand?” I grit out.

“Fully.” A hand slides to her belly. Her brows pinch, and the soles of her shoes scuff the dirt.

The odd reaction tightens my chest with invisible concern. Without thinking, I step into her, securing petite shoulders with a forceful grasp. “I’ll allow you a moment alone with your friend before you board the helicopter.”

She shakes her head. “No.”

I wave my hand to the pilot, beckoning for him to start the engine. “Fine. And for the record, the ingredient I added to your cocktail only loosens tongues and makes people drowsy. Whatever you felt in here”—I skate my fingers down the landscape of her left breast and stop at the button resting over her navel—“that was all you.”

She tuts under her breath. “Do you really expect me to believe that?” Her glower swarms like insects. “As I said earlier, I don’t trust you. And you’re kidding yourself if you think I’m desperate enough to lust after a despicable man like you.”

Her eyes dance over my lips when I growl and say, “I’ll take this opportunity to remind you what happens to liars.” I snap out the warning. There was no questioning our matched sexual hunger or the vibrations rippling from within her when she orgasmed on my hand. It ingested both of us and has clearly left me unhinged. “Tell yourself whatever story you want if it helps you to forget. It won’t happen again. We're done here.”

Tendrils spring with disarray when she spins to face the woodland. “Wonderful.” Her hands noticeably ball as she stomps a few short steps closer to Sal, who covers the clearing to reach us. I subtly lean forward in preparation to seize her hips and drag her back to me.

“Sir, I have to get back. Shall I take her with me?” he asks helpfully.

I lower the peak of my cap, resting a hidden gaze on the swift rise and fall of her chest. This fascination will die. Although a powerful swipe of a machete blade would barely have the force to hack it out at the sprawling roots. Our undeniable, ferocious connection doesn’t belong in my world. Once she’s occupied with employment, I’ll finally be able to reserve all the wasted energy spent in the shadows by her window at nightfall.

Doubt slithers over my skin like I've fallen into a seething pit of vipers. Handing her over to Sal, when her place is with me, tests my limitations. My jaw aches from working too hard behind gritted teeth. “Give her the rest of the day off out of respect for the dead.”

“Yes, sir.” Sal nods.

She licks her lips, squares her shoulders, and carefully pads the wound covering the expanse of her jawline. It’s knitting together nicely. In a week or two, the scar will grow faint, as if nothing ever happened.

But it has.

Her presence has scored a thorny slice through my willpower. The cut runs deep. The damage even deeper.

I step away from them and don’t turn around, bounding over muddy wood chips. The necklace gripping my throat tightens until I gasp for air. An incredible helix of sadness wrings out my gut. There’s no point imagining a queen on her throne beside her king. It’s lunacy to wish for forgiveness. And unwise to assume she’d ever be loyal to me. In my quest for the truth, I’ve raided the woman’s soul and tricked us both into believing she’s insignificant.

A hammering pain advances across my brow. I’m done with this bullshit. With the disturbance of an unusual accent so cock stirring and unique, feminine softness in harsh terrain, and an inner vigor to rival a lioness.

I rule alone.

Not lost in a deadly obsession that leads to war and misery.

I’ll stuff these surreal feelings under a trap door and cover them with a basket of poisonous banana spiders. And while I’m at it, I’ll slam the delete button on her fervent moans of satisfaction. I’ll wipe out the memory of a euphoric, heart-stopping release as she lay peacefully unaware.

Trust isn’t given, it’s earned.

By demanding hers, I’ve neglected to offer her the same privilege.

I settle into the helicopter and quickly hunt out my pretty little hummingbird making her way to an adjacent aircraft. Perhaps in another universe we would’ve been compatible.

The only thing that truly matters is the life I’m scheming to end. Three, to be exact.

Retribution for an unpaid debt.

“Let’s go.” I order to the pilot.

* * *

Five Years Ago

“Dante, thanks for your hospitality. I hope we can do this again.” Miguel shakes my hand with a strong grip.

The evening went well. My sister's new guy kept his hands to himself and didn’t pry into my business. “Sure.” I shrug.

Gabriela trots to his side, with her high ponytail swaying and cheeky smile reaching big eyes. She’s happy. And that’s all I could wish for.

“Well? Are you guys best buddies now?”

Miguel smirks and leans down to kiss her temple. “I was just saying we should do this again sometime.” He matches me in height, and that's about it. It’s obvious I’d beat the guy in a wrestle if it came down to it. I’m rougher around the edges with a five o’clock shadow and unruly hair, whereas he’s clean cut and well presented. A pretty boy with an unshakable stare. I can’t say I’m enamored with the guy. Hopefully, this relationship fizzles out soon. My instincts are on edge, or maybe I’m too overprotective.

“Yeah.” I wink at her, then look back to Miguel. “What did you say your job was?”

He slots a hand into his slacks and nudges Gabriela closer. “Import and export. A purveyor of goods. Nothing special.”

Gabriela juts out her forearm. “Look, he gave me this bracelet.” A thin golden chain loops her fragile wrist and a tiny diamond twinkles in the light. “I’ll see you to the door, Miguel.” She tips into him and blinks wildly, totally smitten.

Fuck! This is happening too fast. I can tell by her doe-eyed gaze she’s falling for him. It had to happen one day.

I let her guide him to the exit while I clear the table. Maria was pissed when I told her not to show up at my house unannounced. Last night, instead of listening to my request, she landed on the doorstep wearing fishnets, a long coat, and nothing underneath. I let her in. What guy wouldn’t? It was fun at the time, but afterward, I wanted her to leave. The only connection we have is sex. Outside of that, there’s no spark or interest.

“What are you thinking about?” Gabriela springs into the kitchen on a high.

“Nothing. Just work stuff.”

“Soooooo . . . Miguel. He’s a great guy, isn’t he?”

Hot water stings my hands as I scrub the pot. “He seems okay, I guess.”

She swats the back of my head. “He thinks you're great and wants to get to know you.”

“He’s dating you. Not me.” I glance over my shoulder. “Why the fuck is he so interested in getting to know your brother?”

Gabriela rolls her eyes. “Because he knows how close we are. He understands that without Dante Valez’s approval, he doesn’t stand a fighting chance with me.”

“Seems like it’s too late for that, Gabs.” Plates clatter as she scrapes leftovers into the trash. “I can tell you like him too much already.”

“I do like him, but I love you. Your opinion matters to me. I could never settle with a guy you didn’t approve of. That wouldn’t work. I need you to like him, for me . . . because . . .”

I turn into her, eyeing serious set brows and flushed cheeks. “Is there something else going on?” A chill spikes over my scalp. The last time I found the same worried look on her face, she thought she’d poisoned a stray cat after feeding it bread. The scrawny thing was on its way out long before she offered it supper. “Gabriela?”

She takes a deep breath. “I’m four weeks pregnant with Miguel’s baby.”