CHAPTER FIVE
Sam
“Know thyself? If I knew myself, I’d run away.”
-Goethe
We don’t speak much on the drive out to the abandoned airstrip.
Danny stares out the window as city buildings give way to scrubby grassland on the way to the lush jungle not far from town. I concentrate on following the directions I wrote down last night and ignoring the Danny smell that fills the car, making every breath an exercise in forgetting.
Forgetting how that smell was once the best, the safest, the sexiest smell.
Forgetting what it felt like to wake up and have his spice and sea-salt scent be the first thing to fill my nose. Forgetting how I loved to burrow closer to his bare skin, press my cheek to his lightly furred chest, and relish the first few sleepy moments of the day with the man I loved.
For the first time in months, I feel the ghost of the old me shift beneath my skin, whisper through my blood.
By the time we reach the turn off to where I’ve planned to start my target practice, my body feels like a limb that’s been asleep too long, fighting its way back to life. The humming of long-dormant sensations prickling across my skin is as unwanted as it is painful and makes me resent Danny’s presence more than I did when we got in the car an hour ago.
I don’t want to wake up. I don’t want to come back to life.
I need to stay dead, cold, numb. I need to stay focused and having Danny around is going to make that impossible.
It doesn’t matter if he approves of my plan or how much he wants to help. I need him to go. I should never have invited him to come with me today. I should have shown him the door and said whatever it took to make him leave me alone.
At the end of the dusty road leading to the old airstrip, I pull in behind a few low trees near the chain link fence and shove the car into park with a rough jerk of my arm. My jaw is clenched so tight my teeth are grinding together and I suddenly want to punch something, the way I did in the early days, right after the trial ended.
Back then, I was so full of anger I would spend hours at my punching bag, beating the shit out of the foam filled leather until I was covered with sweat and trembling with exhaustion. Some nights I wouldn’t even make it to my pallet in the corner. I’d fall asleep on the floor in a puddle of my own sweat and wake up in the morning stiff, sticky, and so sore I could barely breathe.
But that was okay. There was no one there to judge or expect anything of me. It was just me, my pain, my mission, and whatever it took to keep going.
I learned to be grateful for that, to be content with the simple, spare existence left behind after everything but hate was cut away.
And now Danny is here, looking beautiful and sad, smelling the way he smells, shitting all over my focus with his gentle voice and his determined words and the way he looks at me like all he wants in the world is to hold me.
“Are you going to talk?” I snap as I reach between the seats and grab my backpack off of the floor. “I thought that was the reason you were here.”
“I’m not in any big hurry,” he says smoothly, unruffled by my flash of temper. “I’d like to see you shoot first. That’s why we’re here, right? So you can try out the gun you bought last night.”
I stiffen. “If Carlos had seen you, you could have gotten us both killed. I was told to come alone and he isn’t the kind of man who tolerates people disobeying orders.”
“Obviously, but he didn’t see me. Neither did you and I’d been following you for the better part of two days,” he says. “I’m better at sneaking around than you are. Which is one of the reasons you need me.”
“I don’t need to be good at sneaking around. I just need to be in the right place at the right time and have enough ammunition.” I lift my chin and meet his gaze, trying not to think about how familiar his green eyes are. As familiar as my old face in the mirror, back before Todd and his friends put my metamorphosis into motion. “You might as well save your breath. I’m not going to change my mind.”
Danny shrugs, one of those shrugs that could mean anything or nothing, and reaches for the door handle. “Let’s go shoot something. Maybe you’ll feel like listening after.”
Barely suppressing a growl of frustration, I swing out of the car and slam the door behind me, leading the way down the trail twisting into the jungle without looking back to see if Danny is following. I know he is, just as I know it will be hell to get rid of him if he doesn’t want to go. He’s the only person I’ve ever met more stubborn than I am.
Or more stubborn than I used to be, anyway.
He might be surprised how far I’ll go to get my point across now. I don’t want to have to frighten him away, but if he leaves me no choice…
I take a deep breath and quicken my pace, not wanting to go there just yet.
According to my research, there’s a shallow canyon at the end of the trail, tucked behind the old airstrip. In the forties, before the Costa Rican military was disbanded, the army used to test weapons out there.
Local gossip holds that the ground is poisoned with old biological warfare agents. The canyon is supposedly still beautiful, but the locals avoid it, and since it’s on the flight path of commercial planes, the drug lords do the same. Someone might notice a few acres of weed growing out in the middle of nowhere, but the foliage should make sure no one notices one woman down between the rocks shooting shit.
There are no monkeys hanging from the trees pressing in on the trail, but as we get closer to the canyon, the call of toucans and the other tropical birds makes it feel like we’re a thousand miles from civilization. Just around a turn, a scarlet flash flutters across the trail as a parrot lands on a low limb and fans its wings wide, stretching in the morning sun.
Danny pauses behind me, grunting softly as the bird squawks down at us from above.
Even I—as focused on the destination, not the journey, as I am—can’t keep from stopping to admire the creature for a moment. I’ve never seen anything like it outside of a zoo or a pet store. It’s so beautiful, so over the top gorgeous with its brilliant feathers that it’s almost magical.
“Remember when we used to talk about surfing our way through South America?” Danny says from over my shoulder. “I brought my board. If you want to go out later, we could swap out. I hear there’s a good break not far from town.”
I glance at him, too stunned by the suggestion to form a response.
“Just because you’re here to kill people doesn’t mean you can’t have a good time, too,” he says, mouth curving in a lopsided smile.
I shake my head. “This isn’t a game.”
“I know it’s not,” he says, smile fading. “It’s not a game, and if you get caught with that gun, you could spend eight years in jail.”
My lips part, but he pushes on before I can get a word in.
“You don’t even have to shoot anyone with it. Just having it in your possession would be enough.” He steps closer, sending his Danny smell swirling around me all over again. “They don’t fuck around with gun laws here. Even citizens have to jump through hoops to own a gun and get put in jail if they’re caught with an illegal weapon.”
“I’m not going to get caught.”
“The Seasons has its own security team,” he says. “Did you know that? And from what I’ve seen so far, they’re better organized than the local police. If you shoot four men on their property, the chances of you getting off the property before they catch you are slim to none.”
“I don’t care,” I say, angry that he knows something I don’t when all I’ve done for the past year is prepare for this. “As long as I take care of them first.”
“So you want to end up in jail?” His eyes narrow. “How does that even the scales? If you end up going to prison for the rest of your life for murder?”
“I told you, as long as they’re dead, I don’t care.”
“Well you should,” Danny says, heat in his tone for the first time since he showed up at the worst possible moment. “Because you deserve to have a life after this. A real life. Not dying isn’t the same as living, Sam. You know that. You have to know it.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, hating the sound of my name on his lips and that he has pushed me to the edge of losing control with a few stupid questions. I’m better than this, harder than this, and I have to prove it to him or he’ll never leave me in peace.
With a deep breath, I open my eyes, staring up at him, willing him to believe the truth I’m about to tell. “I will never have the kind of life you’re talking about again. It’s too late for that.”
“Why?” he asks in a strained voice. “Why do you have to go down with them? Why can’t you let me help you find a way to do this that won’t end in disaster?”
“I told you I wasn’t strong enough to get through the trial.” I know the words will cut him deep, but I force myself not to care. “But you told me to go back to L.A. and deal with the mess I’d made. So I did.” I hold out my arms. “And this is what is left.”
His eyebrows draw sharply together and regret flashes behind his eyes. “I wondered if you blamed me. You have every right to though, in my defense, I had no idea…”
He swallows hard. “I didn’t know what they’d done and I never dreamed they’d get away with it.” His eyes begin to shine. “I’m sorry, Sam, for that and everything else.”
I cross my arms tight, fighting the wave of regret that swells behind my ribs. “It doesn’t matter now. Like I said, it’s too late. Apologies aren’t going to change things and I don’t want you here, Danny. I refuse to drag anyone else into this. If I’m on my own, then no one else gets hurt.”
“You can’t be serious.” He steps closer, his breath rushing out in something too painful-sounding to be a laugh. “All I’ve done is hurt. Hurt and hurt and go half out of my mind wondering where you are and if you’re okay. And then I saw you at the airport and I thought…”
He shakes his head, looking so lost I can’t help but feel bad for him. “I thought it was a sign. That we were going to climb out of this hell together.”
I cringe at the thought of “together,” of how close and terrifying that sounds.
“Not like that,” he says, apparently still able to read my mind. “Yes, I still love you. I’m never going to stop loving you, but if you don’t want me anymore, I’m not going to push.” His voice breaks on the final word, but when he continues it’s steady. “I’ll leave you alone, but I have to make sure you’re safe first. I have to, Sam. I can’t live with anything else.”
He reaches up, brushing a wisp of hair that’s escaped my braid away from my face, his touch so gentle it threatens to shatter me all over again. “Please. Talk to me. Really talk to me. Let me in enough to help keep you safe.”
“I don’t believe in safe,” I whisper, resisting the urge to lean into his big, warm hand. “Safety is an illusion. No one can keep anyone else safe, no matter how hard they try.”
Danny nods. “You’re right, but I can keep you safer. I know I can, if you’ll give me the chance. At the very least I can be your alibi.”
I hesitate, my resolve wavering.
If I make it back to my hotel after the shooting without getting caught, an alibi would be a good thing to have, and Danny wouldn’t have to be in any danger. He could stay in the room, and if anyone asks, he says I was there with him. Nothing dangerous about that.
Except having Danny in your room, sleeping next to you, breathing the same air, reminding you what it’s like not to be alone.
“Don’t answer now,” he says, cutting me off before I can tell him no again. “Let’s get target practice taken care of, make sure the gun’s not going to explode in your face the first time you try to fire it, and go from there. And while we shoot I can fill you in on some of the things I’ve been thinking.”
“It isn’t going to explode,” I say. “And you’re not allowed to shoot it. My prints are the only prints that are ever going to be on this gun.”
His lips curve again. “Anyone ever tell you you’ve got a bossy streak?”
I answer his attempt at a joke with a blank look.
I will not joke with him; I will not laugh with him. I will not let him past my defenses or give him any reason to hope for more than a brief connection before we go our separate ways.
After a moment, his smile diminishes though it doesn’t completely disappear. “All right. No teasing.”
“The canyon is still about a mile ahead.” I hitch my pack higher on my shoulder. “We should get going. I’d like to have at least an hour to shoot before it gets really hot.”
He holds out an arm, motioning toward the path. “Lead the way.”
I start back down the path, with Danny not far behind, but I know better than to think that means I’m leading. Danny has his own agenda and he won’t give up as easily as he’s pretending. There was a time when he was wrapped around my finger, but I was every bit as wrapped around his. He’s always been able to get to me like no one else, and I’m going to have to be very careful if I want to avoid being manipulated.
I’m going to have to remember that, no matter how familiar this feels, there is no Danny and Sam anymore.
That was the past and there is no room for the past in the here and now.