“Fine, you want to know?” he said, his voice raised. “He threatened you, Corrie. He threatened you, me, and everyone else in this camp. He knew about everything. Told me to halt our inquiries into the thief and told me that if we didn’t deliver the knife to him within a week, he’d go after every single person here.”
“And you believed that? What on earth could he possibly do to us? Not offer us jobs in the future? Well, fine by me. I don’t need to work for blackmailing asshats.”
“He has photos, Corrie. Photos of us by the waterfall today.”
A pit formed in the bottom of her stomach and she swallowed. Hard.
“Of us . . . naked?” She could hardly get the words out.
Ford’s features softened and he rested on the edge of the bed. “Yes,” he said, his voice low and gentle. “On the plus side, he doesn’t know who you are. But on the minus side, he thinks you’re my intern and he plans to release the photos to Yale if I don’t do what he says. It won’t be hard for people to put two and two together and figure out it’s you.”
Corrie wrapped her arms around her body, shrinking into an unknown abyss. After all these years trying to preserve her reputation. All her efforts to combat the impact of that goddamn Archaeological Digest spread. And now someone had photos of her and planned to use them against her. Photos of her body.
It belonged to her. Her and no one else.
Ford was right—it wouldn’t take much for her identity to be figured out. Certainly no one would mistake her for the auburn-haired, fair-skinned Sunny. But, worse yet, Corrie knew how these things worked. Once the photos were out, there would be no way to control who got their hands on them. No way to protect her body.
“This is all your fault, Ford. You let this happen,” she said, her anger rumbling through her voice. But it was time for Corrie to take matters into her own hands. Fuck this Ford’s the boss bullshit. Corrie was in control now.
He hung his head. “I know. Which is why I want to give him what he wants so we can all get out of here.”
“Well, I’m not leaving.”
“What?” He shot a look to her. “No, Corrie. Please don’t start this again. We’re all packing tomorrow and heading out. It’s nonnegotiable.”
“Who said I’m negotiating? I’m staying, Ford. I’m not going to let some rich asshole dictate my decisions. If he releases those photos, then fine. But it’s going to be because I made the decision to stay and not because he scared me off. I came here to do a job, and I’m not leaving until we pack up those goddamn bones. And the way I see it, we still have seven days.”
“Corrie, we shouldn’t mess with him. He’s got multiple people in camp watching and reporting our every move.”
“So what? What are they going to say? That we’re doing our jobs?”
“Look, I went there tonight so we could get out of here. So I could hopefully avoid the investor coming after you.”
She threw up her hand to stop him. “Save your chivalry for some other damsel. You did this to protect your own ass—and your investment.”
“Nothing about me being here is for me.”
She scoffed.
“Tell me something,” she said, ticking her head to the side and crossing her arms. “What if this dig had been destined for someone else? One of your male colleagues, perhaps. Would you have handled it the same way? Taken it from them? Or did you only do it because it was me? Because you knew you could?”
“How can you possibly expect me to answer that? I’m here because of my mom. But no matter what I say, either you’re not going to believe me or you’re going to hate me more than you already do.”
“Well, you sure are right about that. We’re staying, Ford. And in one week, after we’re done with this dig, you’ll never see me again.”
Chapter
Twenty
Getting your ass handed to you sure sucked.
Not that Ford expected anything different from Corrie Mejía. The woman had fire—and self-respect. A few hours into the dig the following morning and her position was loud and clear: Ford better back the fuck up and stay away.
He gave her space those next few days. Took his meals alone in his tent. Helped at the bowl dig site while Corrie, Sunny, and Ethan focused on the cave. Sunny and Ethan didn’t ask questions, at least not of Ford. Who knew what Corrie had told them. But if she’d told them the entire truth, that was fine with him. They deserved to know. Everyone deserved to know what a terrible person he’d been. Because Corrie was right—as much as he wanted to convince himself that he’d done this for his mom, there were other ways he could have helped her without compromising his integrity.
Or breaking Corrie’s heart.
His own heart ached whenever he looked at her. Thought about what they could have had together. Remembered what it was like to touch the warmth of her skin. Remembered what it was like to feel love—real love. Love from his equal.
Except he wasn’t Corrie’s equal. She wasn’t a snake like him. A liar.
They kept what they were doing at the cave under wraps, trekking to the site in circuitous ways and never together. Despite everything, they still had a thief lurking about, and Ford had his sights set on Guiles. Maybe Vautour wasn’t concerned about it, but Ford sure was. They had what he wanted, and then some. The last thing they needed was for someone to skedaddle with the knife four days before they went home.
He considered talking to Lance about it to see if he could reason with Vautour. But reasoning with a blackmailer seemed like a waste of time. After all, to Vautour, Ford was nothing more than an insignificant pillock. What did he care if he destroyed Ford’s life?
Answer: he didn’t.
Ford and the rest of the bowl crew returned to the camp long before the cave crew. While the others went about their afternoons, Ford sat outside his tent, watching them carrying on without a care in the world. What he wouldn’t give to be in their shoes. To focus on the dig without the backdrop of a sick mother or a blackmailing boss. Would he ever go back to being someone like that? To smiling? To being happy?
To finding love?
He shook away the thought. How could he expect anyone to love him when this was the kind of person he’d become?
“Hey, Ford,” Ethan called out as he, Sunny, and Corrie emerged from the jungle. Dirty. Wet. And laughing and smiling.
Well, at least Corrie had been smiling. Her mouth quickly turned down at the sight of Ford.
“Hey, guys,” he responded, straightening up on the porch as they approached. “How are things going out there?”
No matter how hard he tried, his gaze kept wandering to Corrie’s, though she never made eye contact. A shell of Corrie stood in front of him. Empty and mentally absent.
“Good, good,” Ethan said. “We’re making great time. We’ll definitely be able to hit your goal, maybe even a day or two early.”
Ford tilted his head. “My goal?”