Page 163 of Love Me in the Dark
Brute smiled sideways. “You didn’t complain.”
“Didn’t you listen to me before? There’s a safari camp near here. I could’ve taken us there weeks ago.”
He shook his head like he didn’t believe me. His dreads danced as he spoke. “Jayne, I’ve been lost for… I don’t even know how long… I’ve been all over this jungle and can’t find where it ends.”
“How did you get lost?”
His brow pinched as he rubbed his head. “Plane crash,” he exhaled. “Five or six of us survived, but I got separated from the others. I’ve seen no sign of them since. Not even the plane. Once we ran out of supplies, peanuts, and soda, I went offalone searching for food.” He stroked his temple again. “I don’t remember. I’ve been alone too long with my own thoughts. I’m not sure what’s real or speculation on my part.”
“Maybe you ate them.”
“What?”
“Maybe you ate the others to survive.” I began imagining the worst.
“That’s sick.”
“I’ve told you. I was at a wedding party nearby. I could’ve been home by now if you hadn't been pretending.”
“I wasn’t pretending. And is this about Chris? You want to get back to your Chris.”
“No. I see you listened about my boyfriend but ignored that I could lead us back to civilization.”
“How could I not listen, Jayne? He’s all you ever talk about.”
“You picked up my name but haven’t shared yours.”
Brute scrubbed his forehead yet again. “It sure as hell isn’t Brute, but I don’t….” The man became frustrated. He couldn’t remember his name.
While he struggled, I got out of the water. For a moment, I felt awful. The guy fell from the sky and probably had a head injury. I was being the asshole. That’s until he spoke.
“Brute…” He laughed. “I wasn’t the only one enjoying a fantasy.”
I huffed. “Fantasy?”
“Yeah, Brute kept your pussy wet.”
I blew out my nose like a bull. “If you know the spot you rescued me from, I can get us out of here. This can all be over.”
“Is that what you want?”
“Yes. Fantasy over. I need to get home. Not only to Chris, who will be worried sick. My mom. Margo. For God’s sake, I’m supposed to be back to work soon.”
“Then let’s go. Let’s find this camp you’ve been talking about.”
I insisted on going back to the cave first to dress. Brute didn’t have any clothes anymore.
He explained, “I used them for traps, I think, and for my bed… Hold on.” Under his bed of oversized leaves was a pair of dirty, ripped khakis. The burn marks seemed consistent with a plane crash.
Checking the pockets, he found a wallet. “I don’t think this is me.” He handed it over.
The license read Bram Stevens, who was apparently six foot six and two hundred pounds of muscle, with short blonde hair and blue eyes. Their faces looked identical.
“It’s you, without the long hair.”
Taking it back, he felt his clean-shaven face. “Is that what I look like?” This strange man stared down at Bram in disbelief, and I realized I hadn’t checked out the address or anything else in the wallet.
“Yeah. And how do you shave?”
