Fall by Autumn Archer
8
There are many things in this world I’ll never be able to understand. The man stroking my belly with brutally burned skin is one of them.
He’s not perfect, and I don’t pretend to be either. How could I be when I’m lying with the enemy? Content and peaceful. The same beast who pushed me away and then found me again. One act nullifies the other because here we are. Impossibility possible.
Dante finally permits peaceful sleep after we hold each other inside a tent of fresh white netting guarding his bed. His breathing turns shallow, and tense limbs relax.
He's resting peacefully on the bed beside me. A powerful man with well-defined muscles and cruel demons, who wrestles with trust. This is the biggest gift of all. His unwitting sleepy surrender. Exposure to potential violent deeds. No matter our past, I’d never betray him. Not when he’s finally setting me free.
I’m conscious of the trickle of semen between my thighs as I stand. Bruised body parts expel the sticky substance, knowing it’s not fit for purpose. He’ll never father a child, nor does he want to. I’m both thankful for that fact and uncertain for my life outside of the jungle.
Padding around the raised dwelling, I inspect the home of a ruthless man with dual personalities. Before tonight, I would have said he was three quarters unpredictable and one quarter wishing to be normal. And now, I think he’s fixated on a life ruled by carnage. Murder is the priority. There’s no point rolling the truth in glitter to make it more appealing. The man is vying for blood and retribution—he’s given up trying to be the judge and jury, moving straight to the post of executioner.
Posies of dried leaves hang from beams. Clay pots of vibrant flowers scatter flat surfaces. It’s an odd display for such a masculine character. The more I study the varieties, the more I realize he’s categorized them into groups. These plants aren’t for show, they’re strategically positioned. They serve a purpose.
The treehouse is a blissfully romantic hideout for such a violent soul. It’s not obvious from the enchanting woodland retreat that a cold-blooded killer exists within its calm interior.
Covering the floorboards with bare feet and only unruly curls to blanket my shoulders, I take it all in. On the teak stained wall by the seated area is a pinned photograph of a striking young woman with sparkly eyes. Those vivid green eyes remind me of the powerful man who’s trusting me to let him sleep without danger. There’s a softness to her features. An innocence. She stares into the room with perpetual love for the brother who asked her to smile for the camera. Instinctively, I know it's his sister. His world. His reason for destruction.
I swipe away a selfish tear and follow the wild calls of the tropical forest. If my sweet sister was murdered, who’s to say I wouldn’t fight back with bullets and isolation. I’d do anything to protect my family. It’s human nature. A natural born gut reaction.
Over the treetops, a skiff of burning orange promises the light of a new dawn. Color creeps into the clear sky and casts beams of radiance for growth and renewal. It’s only now, on this majestic terrace, overseeing the great expanse, that I believe I’m truly free. The stunning hues of tangerine and raspberry pink welcome, rather than warn. This is the reason I ventured across the globe and picked a career over relationships. My one true passion.
My hands rest on the barrier separating me from a fatal drop. I steadily inhale musky, humid air, closing my eyes for a beat to listen to the natural world. Morning bird song. A waking jaguar roars. Playful monkey chatter. My pulse thrums with life.
I’m alive.
“Beija flor.” My eyelids ping open. Of all the surrounding noises, his approach was undetectable.
I turn to face him, leaving behind the stunning view, but finding something so much more worthy. Dante’s hair is tousled, and roguish dark bristles smatter his angular jaw, stretched to a heart-stopping smile. Peridot eyes lock onto mine, making me nervous as he gets closer. Taking a necessary breather from direct eye contact, I sweep my gaze to his toned thighs and back up to his silken chest that’s so sculpted and smooth. I burn up when he stops short of kissing me.
I don’t want to leave.
“Good morning.” He pinches a few strands of my hair and glides his fingertips down the length, making me shiver. “Couldn’t sleep?”
I smile up at him, unbalanced by his closeness that never fails to electrify the butterflies in my rib cage. “I woke up early and didn’t want to disturb you.”
“You looked deep in thought. What were you thinking about?”
“Out there…” My shoulders roll back, and I stand a little taller. “Scientists say a meteorite devastated the ecosystem here. Fires burned for several years in the aftermath.” He folds his arms, listening attentively. “Research shows it took six million years for the forest to return to a level of diversity similar to what it was before the meteorite hit. The species that grew back were completely different. Such an immense crisis brought about the dense canopies we’re in now—it created the Amazon rainforest.” A pounding vein in my neck turns chaotic. I know what I’m trying to say, and I’m terrified of how he’ll react.
I press through my fear and continue, “Even after destruction, there is rebirth, Dante. Good things can come from ruins. Better worlds. Delicate thriving ecosystems. Relationships.” I swallow my nerves. “I came here to gather information on a new meteorite… which is human interference. Deforestation. And…” His eyes narrow. “And I found you.”
Dante drops his arms and traps me between his pelvis and the wilderness. “I’m listening,” he declares in a low rumble.
I inhale a quick breath and let the words flow with its exhale. “I’m thinking about staying for a while. It’s important for me to continue with my research.”
“No.”
“Yes,” I protest.
His lashes lower briefly. “No,” he repeats with a sharp snap.
“Dante,” I whisper, lifting to my tiptoes. “I’m not asking to stay. I’m telling you it’s necessary for me to stay. Fergal was meant to break his leg. I was meant to take his place. You and I were destined to meet in the very place I’ve dreamed about visiting since I was a kid.”
A hand shoots to my throat. “This isn’t a love story with a happy ending. People will die. Possibly even me. But most definitely not you, beija flor.” His husky voice chases the shadows.
“I don’t have enemies here,” I point out. His face dips, ready to smother my protest with his lips. “Just a few more weeks, and then I’ll fly home. I’ll return to the lab with useful information. Then Bruce won’t have died in vain. I’ll have served a purpose. Looking out at the jungle right now, being here, with you—it feels like I belong. Like you were the meteorite that obliterated the old me and then…”
“Stop,” he bites out, battling with the pressure of his life-threatening fingertips. “If anyone’s a fucking meteorite, it’s you. With your red hair and cataclysmic presence. I meant what I said in the beginning. I don’t want you here.” But as he says the statement, his vivid gaze drops. “You don’t belong here.”
He’s lying. Nonetheless, my heart wilts. “Look me in the eyes and tell me that, Dante. Tell me you don’t want more nights together. Tell me I’m leaving now and never coming back. That we’ll never meet each other again.” My tone frosts with frustration.
The fingers wrapping my throat skate to my shoulder. His forehead bumps into mine. “I’m giving you back your life, Iris.” The depth to his statement rumbles like far off thunder, threatening to rip open the sky with relentless rain and drown every living creature. “It’s what you wanted. What you begged me for. What I should have granted after the fever broke. But I was too irrational back then to see it.” He sighs heavily. “I still am. I’ll never be the man you deserve. That side of me died with my sister. The possibility of normal resurfaced for a brief moment when you showed up, but yesterday only proves what I’m truly capable of, and I won’t let that happen again.”
“It proves you want to survive more than you want to surrender to the darkness eating your soul. You’re not a bad man, Dante. Not in here.” I lightly tap the taut muscle over his heart.
“I wasn’t a bad guy in the past.” He exhales out of his nostrils. “But then they stole the only important thing I had. Now I barely recognize myself. I can’t promise you won’t meet that side of me again, and the only way I can ensure it is for you to get the fuck away from me before it destroys us both. It’s not fair, but it’s how this is going to end. You're going home, beija flor.”
A shiver runs the length of my spine. “Hummingbirds don’t belong in the United Kingdom, Dante.”
There’s a notable sense of sadness when he replies, “You’ll return as Iris. The remarkable woman who survived the jungle.” His voice gains an edge. “Who got out alive with a second chance at life. Do you understand?”
“What if I’m not that woman anymore?” I reply, with a hint of frustration to my tone. “What if I choose to stay so I can carry on with my research?” I demand.
He inhales rapidly, and I sense he’s seconds from inviting el Fantasma to the coupling. “It’s not safe here.”
“I’m not asking for eternity. A few more weeks at most. After everything, you owe me more time.”
“Fuck,” he snarls, dragging a hand through his hair. “Why are you so…”
“Admit it, Dante. You want me to stay more than you need me to leave.” I fold my arms, unintentionally pushing my breasts together.
Piercing eyes warn me of possible danger. “I’d rather you left here with a heartbeat. Don’t argue with me, Iris.” He rubs his eyes and blows out a jet of air.
His attention refocuses on my bare skin. “Dante…” I push myself into him. “The Oasis is secured by a talented team of highly trained men who would do anything for you. You control every single visitor. No one gets beyond your borders without approval. There isn’t a chance in hell of someone climbing the skyscraper trees to kill an unknown woman from the Scottish Highlands. Anyway, I’m already dead, remember?”
In the beginning, I would’ve broken his hand to grab freedom, but now, when I think back, I vaguely comprehend the time I’ve been here.
Weeks of self-discovery.
Days lost among palm trees with secretive fantasies about one man. This man.
Admittedly, I haven’t thought about my family as often as I should. Only when the opportunity presented itself to offer them a sliver of truth. That was the reason I wrote the note. So their broken hearts could mend from knowing I’m alive. To appease their mourning. I had no intention of going home at that point.
His back stiffens. Golden fragments of sunlight dance in his eyes, softening his stern expression. “And what if my enemies land on my soil?” he says in a harsh tone that’s meant to deter me from this lunacy.
“Then I imagine you’ll do the right thing.” I rest my palm over the galloping heartbeat in his chest. “Do we have a deal?”
Nudging closer, our toes meet. That unintentional contact dots every inch of my skin with tiny fireworks. A hand snakes to my lower spine, and he shunts his new hard-on into my belly.
He releases a long breath. “We should negotiate this deal of yours, beija flor.” A ghost of a smile hitches the edge of his mouth. “If you stay for a few more days, it’s on my terms. Perhaps I’ll tie you to my bed and fuck you until you’re bored with my dick?” My stomach flips. I know that’s impossible. I haven’t had nearly enough of him. He grabs my breast and squeezes. “Or did you like it better when you pretended you didn’t want it. When you wandered around in your glass cage without clothes, hoping I’d show up to claim you. Teasing me with these.” His chest rises. “Did you get off on it? Strutting about like a queen with the ability to drive her king insane.”
“Were you spying on me?”
He wets his lips with a slow sweep of his tongue. “Maybe.” Then his mouth descends so we share the same oxygen. “You enjoyed taunting me, didn’t you?”
The suggestion fizzes inside me. With any other man, such a lewd blemish on my character would repulse me, yet hearing it come from this man, hell, I’m molten lava.
I wrap my arms around his neck and gaze up into his eyes. “I knew it was messed up to want you so badly. Like, sick in the head wrong, but it made me feel alive.” I pause, letting my admission settle in. “Did you really want me, or was it all part of your plan to break me down?”
His fingers move to my temple, and he strokes a flyaway strand free from my lashes. For a heartbeat, we just stare at each other. “I could never break a stubborn woman like you.” His lips twitch to a smile.
My heart flutters. “So… is that a yes? Can I stay for a while?”
“Let me think it over. Perhaps I really will hold you captive. And believe me, I’ll never let you leave if that happens.”
His smile straightens as if he’s thinking over the consequences, well-schooled in the art of discipline. The calmness to his expression makes me wonder if this crazy situation will work.
