Page 44 of Extracted

“Sorry.” His warm hand pressed against her skin as he examined the gash.

Blood was crusted around the area, but the stitches were still in place.

“Looks pretty good considering,” Dallas said. “No sign of infection. We need to clean it again though.” He pulled out a tube of ointment.

“Should we get the stitches wet?”

“Yeah, they’ve been in almost twenty-four hours, and ointment will keep infection away.” He took out a cotton swab and dabbed the ointment over and around the thread holding her skin together. Next, he took out fresh gauze and rebandaged the area.

He slapped her knee. “Good as new.”

She fit her legs back in her pants. “It does feel better actually.”

“Good.” He put the first aid kit up to its spot on the wall and scooted under the covers with her. “Now we can go to sleep.”

He stretched out his arm and clicked off the lantern. Darkness sealed itself around them, and her heart stalled.

In the plane’s silence, the din of the Amazon grew deafening. She burrowed into Dallas’s side, and he folded her into his arms.

The steady rise and fall of his chest and the sound of his breathing finally tugged her into a restless sleep.

CHAPTER 12

Creak, creak, creak

Quick, steady noises pulled Gemma from sleep. She blinked in the darkness and memories assaulted her, giving her mental whiplash. Plane crash. Parachutes. Jungle.

Dallas.

Creak, creak

He pulled her tighter to his chest, but her brain worked at warp speed to identify the sound. It was close. The plane shook, and something banged against the side of it.

Dallas shot into a sitting position. “What—”

“Something’s trying to get in.” Her words came out in a shaky, hoarse whisper.

A clank of metal told her Dallas had retrieved his gun from the trunk. He bolted to his feet. “Stay here.” The glow of a flashlight lit the plane. Gemma swallowed and got to her feet but stayed near the back.

Dammit, she needed a weapon.

The banging continued, and the trunk in front of the door scraped against the floor.

“Holy shit!” Dallas’s shout echoed through the interior.

He leaned forward and held out his hand, towing someone inside. “Eli. Man, I can’t believe you’re okay.”

Gemma rushed forward, her muscles sagging with relief. Eli stumbled to the floor between the seats.

“Quick, get him some water,” Dallas commanded as he knelt close to Eli.

With shaking hands, Gemma turned on the lantern and dug through the case of water bottles at the bottom of the trunk. After yanking one from the plastic, she rushed forward.

Dallas had Eli leaned up against one of the seats. Sweat and blood poured down his face. His clothes were torn, and a makeshift sling held his left arm.

Gemma wet her lips and crouched next to him. “Eli, can you hear me?”

Moisture drenched his shirt. Dirt covered him from head to toe. If she had to bet, she’d say he’d had a far worse landing than they had.

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