Page 21 of Kristoff

“This may sound a little out there,” Harlan says, preparing me for one of his outrageous schemes. “What if we put her in a crate?”

Of all the things he could’ve suggested, I suppose this one has some merit.

“The crate would keep her from being seen, still allow her to breathe, and likely avoid search since our smuggler has connections set up along the route.”

“What happens if this ends up being Pandora’s box?” I play devil’s advocate. “He may wanna pop the lid to see what’s inside.”

“So how do we keep that from happening?”

“I’m not sure.” I go back to working on the pico as I weigh the options.

“The only thing I can think of is going with her. Even then, we run the risk of Gerald getting curious about why I’m going to Georgetown when, as far as he’s aware, I haven’t left this place in the whole time we’ve been in Guyana.”

Cocking his head, Harlan nods. “Not a bad idea.”

Suddenly I need a drink. As if reading my mind, he heads to the refrigerator and pulls out another bottle.

“Look, I realize you’ve got a thing for this girl. I’ve stayed away like you said I should, but that doesn’t mean I’m not worried. I mean, the pussy may be great and everything—”

“It’s not that,” I reply with certainty. “I don’t know exactly why, but my protective instinct tells me this is the right thing to do.”

“God forbid I should go against your instinct,” he teases.

“Well, there’s also the fact she might be carrying your niece or nephew,” I grudgingly admit.

The unexpected admission freezes Harlan with a beer half tilted toward his mouth. The scene would be laughable if it wasn’t so damn indicative of this entire, fucked-up situation.

The back door slams, stopping me from my task and making Harlan swing around.

Celia comes dashing in, her cheeks pink from the run. “Gerald…” she gasps.

The name alone is enough to send an arrow of concern down my back.

“He’s headed this way.” She gulps a lungful of air. “He just found out the teacher’s missing in Germantown.”

“Shit.” If he’s on the way, I have no time to get her out. Every nightmare about what’s happened in the jungle comes to mind.

“What do we do?” Harlan asks.

Celia glances between us and swallows hard. “I have an idea.” She grabs Harlan by the wrist. “You stay here and pretend nothing happened,” she instructs me then pulls the beer out of Harlan’s hand and sets it on the counter before dragging him through the door.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Brianna

Footsteps come pounding up the stairs, overlapping each other.

I jump off the bed so quickly, you’d think the bedspread was on fire. My heart’s pounding. I look around, but I have nowhere to run. What happens now? Will Kristoff and his family be okay? I should have been up early this morning and hit the road despite his plan.

The door swings open, and fear pins me in place. An icy sheet rolls over me, freezing me from head to toe. But a petite, wide-eyed girl is standing at the doorway. In the next second, a man takes up the spot right behind her, towering over her smaller frame. From his features and build, he has to be Kristoff’s brother. He’s probably as curious about me as I am about him.

“Come with me,” she says, dragging in labored breaths. “No time to explain.”

While I should be more careful, considering this life-or-death situation I’ve put us in, I follow her. I think it’s the urgency in her voice and the terrified expression on her face that makes me obey without question.

“Harlan,” she says, confirming his identity. “Move.” She pushes at his chest, but he doesn’t budge, so she puts an elbow to his belly.

“Uff.” He brings his hand up to the offended spot and frowns at her.

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