Page 5 of Cyclone

And we did.

Side by side, through mud and vines and adrenaline. Our almost-kiss hanging in the air like a live wire, sparking every time our eyes met.Damn Beau Allen you can’t kiss a nun. Right? Yes right!

I ran up next to the nuns. “left your habit up, you can run faster,” they looked at me like I told them to strip naked.

“He means like this,” sister Jude explained, showing them how to hold up their habit so they wouldn’t be carrying all that weight.

3

Cyclone

It started with a stumble.

One minute, Sister Jude was ahead of me, clearing a path with that stubborn, fearless energy of hers. The next, she tripped and caught herself on a mossy tree trunk, swatting at her arm.

“Ow,” she muttered, shaking her sleeve. “Damn twig just bit me.”

“You alright?” I asked, stepping closer.

“Yeah, just—” She paused, frowning. “Huh. That’s weird.”

She rolled up her sleeve.

Two puncture marks. Swollen. Already red.

“Sister Jude…” I grabbed her wrist, gently but firmly. “That’s not a twig.”

Her eyes met mine, and I saw the flicker of fear she tried to hide. “Spider?”

“Venomous,” I said grimly. “And we’re still two hours from the pick-up spot.”

“I’m fine,” she said, brushing me off. “Just a little sting—”

And then her knees buckled.

I caught her before she hit the ground.

“Nope.Not doing this today,” I growled. “You are not dying on me in the middle of the damn jungle.”

She blinked up at me, dazed. “Aw. That almost sounded sweet.”

“Shut up,” I said, heart pounding as I checked her pulse. “Faron! We need to move. Now.”

He didn’t ask questions—just jumped into action. He’d seen enough to know. We were in trouble.

I hoisted her onto my back. She didn’t even fight me this time. That alone told me how bad it was.

As we ran, her voice was low in my ear.

“Don’t let them see. The others. Don’t let them worry.”

“You really think I care about what they see right now?”

“I think…” she trailed off. “You’re kinda bossy when you panic.”

“I’m not panicking.”

“You’re definitely panicking.”

---