Ava laughs. “I can’t believe she made such a production out of this.”
I shrug. “I rented a hotel room, we took our clothes off, and Godzilla pops out. When she sees it, her excitement level drops to about a five and she’s at maybe two when I get the condom on. But she wasn’t going big game hunting in the north without returning with her bagged and tagged trophy, so she opened her legs and told me to put it in.”
“For an experienced girl, it doesn’t sound like either of you did much prep,” she observed.
“I was fifteen and a virgin. I didn’t know what foreplay was. I figured that was feeling her up under her clothes, which I had done. And she seemed excited enough.”
“So did you pull out a knife and stab her? Shoot her in the head when she didn’t come? I mean, how do you get from prom night to morgue?”
“I breached her. She died. End of story.”
She makes a face. She wants more. She wants to hear the whole gory thing. About the fountain of blood. The way her brothers mutilated me in retaliation for touching their sister. The way that my mother viewed me as a curse and crossed herself a dozen times whenever I came near. But all she needs to know is that the only way I can protect her is to keep my fucking hands off her.
“Breached? Like you didn’t even go all the way in?” I nod. “I don’t think you can kill someone with your penis,” she frowns. “She died right there? Right in front of you?”
I grimace. “No, she died two days later. But there was a lot of blood.” I close my eyes trying to forget, but the vision of that girl and the blood between her legs and around my dick is painted on the back of my lids. I pop my eyes open and stare at her. Better. Much better.
“Was she having her period?”
“Can we stop talking about it?”
“I guess, but I still don’t think you killed her.” I open my mouth to recite the facts again but she holds up her good hand. “No, I get that you believe you did. I doubt medical science would back you up.”
“I tried to have sex with her. She bled horribly. She died two days later.” Her brothers took me out and beat me within an inch of my life and I was grateful for each blow. “Those are the facts.”
She reaches out and her hand lands on my knee. I jump because I didn’t realize she was so close. “Is celibacy your atonement? Because I’m sure you didn’t kill that girl.”
I turn on my side, away from her sympathy and the soft light in her eyes. I can’t have that. “I’m sure I did.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
RAFAEL
It takes a long time to get to sleep but eventually I will myself into some sort of suspended consciousness. The next morning, the jungle wakes at dawn as the night predators give way to the day ones.
Ava is sleeping. Half her body is coated with mud. Her hand and wrist are still swollen and there are scratches and insect bites on much of her exposed skin. Her hair is matted and wound together in such a state that there could be birds nesting in there. I’ve never seen anyone so fucking beautiful, so fucking desirable.
I want to scoop her up and bathe her in the warm rain until she is nothing but milk white skin highlighted by rosy flashes of arousal. My pants are tight but I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I will always be aroused when she’s near. Hell, when she leaves I’ll probably be aroused by the thought of her.
Outside I gather more kindling and throw it at the mouth of the cave. If we have to, we’ll return here, but staying another night would mean that we’ve made no progress getting out of the jungle. And we need to go. Ava’s hand needs medical attention and I need to figure out how I’m going to negotiate with Uncle Sam to get Davidson back without the information.
Placing the water bottle along with two pieces of grilled snake meat on a rock near the fire, I head north to see if I can find any more pieces of wreckage. The first twenty minutes yield nothing but pupunha fruit. We could roast these tonight. The sweetness of the fruit would be tasty after the dry, rubbery snake. I fill my pockets and move on.
To the left there’s a gap in the foliage, as if someone or something jumped into the middle and didn’t leave. I poke around with my bamboo stick but nothing moves. A machete would be good about now.
A busy brown and gold pattern not known to be found in the Amazon catches my eye. With slow and measured movements, I gently push the brush aside. Under a branch, the purse lies looking almost showroom perfect. The branch undulates and the green markings of an emerald tree boa appear.