Page 20 of Captivating Nash

Nash glanced over at Deanna as they moved through the jungle. She was keeping pace with him, her breathing hard but controlled, her eyes sharp. There was no hesitation in her movements, no signs of panic. It surprised him—he had expected her to slow them down, to need constant reassurance or protection. But instead, she was right there with him, every step of the way.

As they ducked beneath low-hanging branches, the sound of distant voices drifted through the trees. Nash tensed, grabbing Deanna’s arm and pulling her behind the cover of a thick tree trunk. He pressed a finger to his lips, signaling for silence as they crouched low. His heart hammered in his chest as he listened—footsteps, low murmurs, the unmistakable sound of boots crunching through the undergrowth.

Fatima’s men were close. Too close.

Nash felt a bead of sweat slide down his temple as he calculated their next move. They couldn’t outrun a trained team in unfamiliar terrain, not like this. Their only chance was to outsmart them—to use the jungle to their advantage.

He leaned in close to Deanna, his voice barely a whisper. “We’re going to move quietly. Stay low, keep to the shadows. If they spot us, we’re not going to get out of here.”

Deanna nodded, her eyes meeting his with an intensity that almost caught him off guard. There was no fear there—only focus. She trusted him, and that trust was something Nash didn’t take lightly.

They moved carefully through the underbrush, ducking beneath branches and keeping to the shadows as the voices grew fainter. Nash led the way, his senses sharp, every step measured as they wove through the dense jungle. The terrain was rugged, filled with sharp rocks and steep inclines, but Deanna never faltered. She was keeping pace, and Nash couldn’t help but be impressed.

They reached a narrow ravine, its rocky edges descending into darkness below. Nash motioned for Deanna to stay close as they made their way along the ledge, careful not to disturb the loose stones beneath their feet. One wrong move, and the noise could give away their position.

But then, from behind them, Nash heard the distinct crack of a branch. He froze, his body tensing, his hand instinctively reaching for the knife strapped to his belt. Deanna stilled beside him, her breath shallow as they both listened.

Another crack. Closer this time.

Nash’s pulse quickened, but he didn’t let the fear show. He turned to Deanna, leaning in close enough that his breath brushed against her ear. “We’re going to have to move fast. They’re getting closer.”

Deanna swallowed but nodded, her lips pressed into a thin line of determination. Nash could see the tension in her shoulders, the awareness that they were being hunted, but she didn’t panic.

And then, as if on cue, the jungle exploded into motion. Figures in dark clothing emerged from the trees, moving toward them with frightening speed. Nash grabbed Deanna’s hand and pulled her into a sprint, his heart racing as they tore through the undergrowth, feet pounding against the earth.

The jungle flew by in a blur of green and shadow, the sounds of pursuit growing louder behind them. Nash’s muscles screamed with the effort of running, of keeping them both moving forward, but his focus never wavered. He could hear Deanna’s breathing beside him, rapid but steady, her grip on his hand tight as they dodged low-hanging branches and leapt over roots.

But they couldn’t outrun them forever. Nash knew that.

He spotted a thick cluster of trees up ahead, their trunks wide and gnarled, perfect for cover. “There!” he said in a voice only she could hear, pointing toward the trees.

They veered toward the cluster, sliding into the dense foliage just as the first shots rang out. Bullets tore through the leaves, the sound deafening in the otherwise quiet jungle. Nash shoved Deanna down into the dirt, covering her with his body as they huddled behind the thick trunk of a tree.

“Stay down,” Nash growled, his breath hot against her ear. He could feel her body trembling beneath him, but she didn’t cry out, didn’t panic. She just nodded, trusting him.

The danger was closing in, but Nash wasn’t about to let them be taken. Not like this. His mind raced, every second counting as he calculated their next move.

And in that moment, as he crouched over Deanna, the jungle alive with the threat of violence, he realized something.

She wasn’t just an asset. She was a partner in this fight.

And he was going to make damn sure they survived it together.

Chapter Eight

Deanna

The jungle seemed alive around her, every rustle of leaves and snap of twigs amplified by the pounding of her heart. Deanna’s lungs burned with the effort of keeping up with Nash as they moved through the dense thicket, his pace relentless, his movements precise and controlled. He led the way, navigating the underbrush with a practiced ease that she could only hope to mimic. Every step she took was an effort to match his, her body straining to keep up as the weight of the danger pressed down on her.

But the panic she expected to feel—paralyzing, uncontrollable—never fully took over. It was there, yes, like a beast at the edge of her mind, gnawing at her thoughts. She could feel it rising up with every snap of a branch behind them, with every hurried breath she drew. Yet somehow, she pushed it down, shoving it aside with a determination she hadn’t realized she had.

Deanna had never been in a situation like this. Running for her life, hiding from armed mercenaries, relying on instinct and survival rather than logic and reason. But she could see it in Nash—the way his body moved with the grace of a predator, the tension in his shoulders, the constant vigilance in his eyes. He was wired for this. He lived in the spaces between danger and safety. And now, she was following his lead, step for step.

Don’t stop. Don’t think. Just move. Follow Nash. Don’t be a burden.

She forced her feet to keep going, her pulse racing as they ducked beneath low-hanging vines and weaved through clusters of thick ferns. The jungle was dense, the canopy above casting mottled shadows on the forest floor and making everything feel claustrophobic. But even in the chaos, Deanna found herself keeping up. Her body, though exhausted, responded to the challenge, pushing forward as if something deep inside her had been waiting for this moment.

It wasn’t pride exactly, but there was something in the way Nash glanced back at her—quick looks over his shoulder, checking to see if she was still with him—that made her grit her teeth and press on. She wasn’t going to be a liability. Not now. Not after everything.

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