Page 24 of Brawler
Emily glanced over her shoulder, sweat darkening the strap of her pack. “A male can weigh close to two hundred pounds. But it’s not the size that makes them lethal, it’s the bite. Strongest of any big cat. They don’t suffocate prey like lions. They pierce the skull. Crush bone. They can split a sea turtle’s shell in seconds.”
The team moved in silence for a beat, leaves brushing their shoulders, the air dense with insect whine.
She added, softer, “You won’t see them unless they want you to. They melt into shadow. You could walk right past one and never know it. That’s their power…silence. Elusiveness. They’re ghosts in their own forest.”
Easy gave a low whistle. “You’re following that?”
Emily adjusted her grip on the straps, eyes fixed ahead. “Not following to catch, following to understand how she survives, how she thrives against all odds.”
Brawler glanced at her from under the brim of his helmet, something steady and unspoken in his eyes. Respect. Recognition. The weight of it landed harder than any words, stealing her breath for a step before she forced her gaze back to the path.
Shark rumbled, “We’ve humped through more jungle than I care to count. Never seen one of your cats.”
Easy leaned in with a grin. “You’ve, what? Gotten them on camera?”
Emily nodded. “Yes. Quite often. I’ve been following one female for almost a year. I know her like a valued friend. She has scars from fighting off males when they try to take her territory, especially when she has cubs. She’s ferocious, relentless…and magnificent. The way she survives, even with the world pressing in on her, destroying the forest piece by piece. I’m in awe of her.”
Twister asked, caught up in her story. “You’ve seen her. In person, haven’t you?”
Emily shook her head, a small ache tugging at her chest. “No. Not once. Sombra is my ghost cat. I’ve only seen her through my camera traps, paw prints, scat. The map of her scars tells her story, a puzzle I’ve put together. Wild, untamed, but beautiful in her natural state. Her maternal instinct is strong. She’s never faltered. She raised her son, Niño Dulce to adulthood last year. I’d give anything to find him again, see how he’s doing. I bet he’s just like her. Now she has two more babies, Luz and Brío.”
“Light and spirit,” Brawler murmured. “You named them?”
She nodded, voice softening. “It will be a testament to her prowess as a hunter, protector, and mother to raise two cubs to adulthood. It’s not technically part of my study, so I may have to let that go.” Scientists were supposed to be detached, clinical, only concerned with data points. But she could never be that way with Sombra. Not when this jaguar carried the weight of more than research, more than survival. Not when every piece of her dissertation was tied to Dani.
The jungle hushed around them, boots sinking into damp earth. None of the men laughed. Even hardened operators weren’t immune to the reverence in her tone. When she glanced sideways, she found Brawler watching her, eyes shadowed and steady. No mockery there. No impatience. Just something weightier, carved deep. It landed in her chest like a stone dropped in still water, rippling outward, unsettling everything she thought she knew about this Neanderthal.
The rest of the day they moved steadily, the SEALs searching—for what she had no idea, and they weren’t about to tell her. They stopped for short rests, food, and water breaks. When she came to one of her cameras, she held up her hand. “Can I have a moment?”
After looking around, Tex nodded.
Emily crouched by one of her camera traps, fingers steady as she checked the housing and slid out the card. The jungle pressed close, thick air, the buzz of insects, a far-off bird’s cry cut short like a warning.
Brawler crouched beside her unexpectedly, and with this man, she really needed a warning, but for his size, he was like Sombra, quiet and lethal.
He held out an SD card. “I’ve got plenty. Keep yours for later.”
She stared at the offering, a kind of relief settling in her. She had planned for a week of filming but hadn’t for the corruption. Now he was not only offering her one in his precious stash of intel gathering cards, but a way for her to make sure she had the footage she needed to finish her project.
Gratitude rolled through her. She couldn’t remember a man in her past who had not only heard her, but remembered what she’d said, and responded to it. One guy couldn’t even remember how she took her coffee. His attention tingled through her like he’d physically touched her in a place where her heart met her desire. He wasn’t just lethal, he was present…and so fucking real it hurt.
He didn’t notice her hesitation. Brawler’s attention was everywhere, eyes sweeping shadows, body tuned in to any possible order from Tex, his awareness of Beast, the leash between him and his dog was invisible, constant.
Emily shook her head, took the card, her fingers brushing his gloved ones, feeling the burn of contact just as strongly, aching for the rough feel of his skin against hers. Forcing herself back to her camera, pretending her breath hadn’t just caught in her chest. Brawler wasn’t just a catastrophe of desirable man, he was her approaching wrecking ball armageddon, inevitable, an end-of-her-world disaster in the making.
6
As dusk fell,things moved inside the shadows. Flash’s operator senses stayed on point, every nerve wired tight. He tried not to overreact. His effectiveness would be shit if he couldn’t tell the difference between ghosts and real threats.
The jungle tested that line. Branches swayed with no wind. Leaves whispered where nothing passed. Eyes, or maybe fireflies, flickered in the dark. His head knew it was nothing. His gut said otherwise.
Flash shifted his grip on his weapon, jaw tight.Not today, man. Don’t be the guy who ghosts at shadows.
Still, the feeling crawled along his spine. The absence he couldn’t name. The presence he couldn’t shake. Like the jungle itself was watching, waiting.
He forced out a breath, pasted a grin across his face, and let the words roll easily, casual, just loud enough for Bondo to hear. “Goddamn, this place is cozy. Like a five-star spa with malaria.”
The other man shot him a look, half warning, half amused. That was fine. Let them think he was joking. Better that than admit the dark was pressing too close, and something with wings and whispers was still riding him from the sky.
