Chapter 19

 

Belinda was crying. Her tears merged with the rain and disappeared into the forest below. She’d managed to strap John to the tree, even though he weighed at least a hundred pounds more than she did and all of it was tense, pained muscle. It was agony watching him suffer, knowing there was nothing she could do about it.

The pain of the venom had stripped away his reason and his defences. She knew he would have hated her seeing him like this, helpless and weak. Each time a wave of venom worked its way through his body, he convulsed, grunting and moaning in agony. She knew he didn’t see her any longer. He probably wasn’t even aware he was still in the rainforest. Every now and then, he muttered something, but most of it was incoherent.

Belinda wiped at her face, but it was pointless. The water flowed over her in one continuous deluge. The light was fading fast, and the greens of the forest were losing their colour, turning to the shades of grey that made up twilight. Belinda fished into their makeshift pack and came out with the empty water bottles and condoms. She used the travel-sized dental floss from her handbag to tie a large leaf down at an angle, to funnel water pouring off the tree into the bottles. They filled up fast, and she was able to fill all of the condoms while there was still some light.

“Lying bitch,” John muttered. “Lying, lying liar liar liar…”

Belinda scooted along the branch and pressed the water bottle against his lips, grateful that there was still enough light to guide her to his side. The last thing they needed was for her to fall out of the tree.

“Sip,” she said. Even with the water soaking them, she could feel John’s skin burn and knew he had to be sweating from the pain racking his body.

She’d expected to have to force him to drink, but he gulped at the water, emptying the bottle in no time.

“Beautiful,” he whispered when he opened his eyes and stared straight at her.

Belinda gave a little hiccupping sob as she stroked his hair from his face. “You’re a dangerous man, John Garcia. A woman could fall in love with you.”

His face contorted and he surged forward, straining against the bonds that held him tight to the tree. Belinda wept as she checked the makeshift ropes to satisfy herself that they were not only secure, but that they weren’t harming him in any way.

His head lolled back as the pain passed. “It’s all an act. Two-faced hypocrite, liar, liar, liar…”

Belinda’s heart ached at his rambling words. She hoped he didn’t mean her; that it was just the pain talking.

“Never gonna know,” he muttered. “Never gonna know. Nothing. I’m nothing.”

“Shh.” Belinda caressed his cheek, and his eyes opened. He was looking straight through her.

“They don’t see,” he said in a voice so earnest that it almost broke her.

“Don’t see what?” she whispered.

“Me. They never see me. They only see the liar.”

A low, agonised groan followed as his eyes snapped shut. Every muscle in his body was clenched tight, and his skin was so hot that Belinda could feel heat coming off it even without touching him. When the pain receded, he was panting and Belinda had refilled the water bottle. She pressed it to his lips again, and he drank the lot.

“Don’t let her hurt me,” he whispered when he was done. “See me. Somebody needs to see me.”

“I see you, John,” she whispered.

His face filled with fury. “Don’t call me John!”

His body bowed in agony as another wave of pain hit him.

“Beast—it’s okay, Beast. This will pass. I promise. This will pass. You’re so strong. The strongest man I know. If anyone can handle this pain, it’s you. Please be okay. Please, please be okay.”

He was lost to her, groaning as he slumped against the tree between bouts of agony. All Belinda could do was keep the water bottle full and make sure they were both as safe as was possible. She kept the gun beside her, grateful that the way the tree limbs joined meant the area was wide enough for her to sit tailor-fashion, facing John. It was almost fully dark now, and Belinda could only make out John as a shadow in front of her. She tied another liana around her waist, securing her to the tree, hoping it would keep her from falling, in the unlikely event she actually fell asleep. Sometimes exhaustion could overwhelm a person.

“I’m getting out of here,” John said.

Belinda couldn’t see him now. Absolute blackness had swallowed them whole. “Yes, we are.”

“Gonna live on the street, where nobody can hurt me.”

She sucked in a breath but didn’t say anything. She wasn’t sure he would hear her anyway.

“They don’t believe she hurts me.” He sounded so faint, as though it was a whisper from his mind. “She’s perfect. They only see perfect. But it’s all an act. I know what she’s like when the social worker leaves. Can’t stay here. Can’t take it anymore. Gonna live on the street and learn to fight. Nobody’s gonna hurt me. I’ve done it before. I can find enough to eat.”

He grunted and let out a low whine of pain. “Liar,” he shouted into the night. “Liar, liar.”

Belinda was grateful for the never-ending beat of the rain, because it swallowed John’s words and kept them hidden from the people who hunted them.

“It’s all an act,” he mumbled before letting out an agonised howl.

All Belinda could do was cry for the boy he’d once been, as she prayed that the man he’d become would make it through the night.