Page 11 of Cavern of Silence
Since he left, I haven't moved from my corner. The blanket he gave me has only a hint of his delicious scent, and I've been consuming as much of it as I can. The image of his square jawbone, or light-blue eyes I could get lost in, never leave my mind. There's depth in his eyes. I saw it the moment he took his night-vision goggles off. It's something I haven't seen in a man in...well, maybe ever.
But what do I know? Everything I ever thought about men turned out to be wrong. And not the ones I knew were bad but the ones I thought were good and trusted.
My marriage is in shambles. Four years have passed since I've seen Miguel. But the betrayal never stops piercing me.
He's the only man I've ever been with. I gave him my virginity when we were only kids. He tattooed my middle name, Liliana, on his chest because that's what he, and only he, called me. And now his daughter, my niece, bears that name.
While I was working extra shifts to pay for his dream, he had needs that weren't being met. My twin sister was happy to fulfill what I wasn't able to give him when I was working.
For several years, unbeknownst to me, she got him several nights of the week, and I got the leftovers on my few nights off.
When I saved enough money to buy him his beloved property in Belize, I tried to get out of working the extra shifts. It was no use. The Global Leaders owned me, and once you're in, there's no way out.
I had heard and seen too much.
Even if I had stopped working long hours, it would have been too late. They had a child together. I was a nuisance to their family.
So even though Ryker is the most delicious-smelling, good-looking, seemingly trustworthy man I've laid eyes on in maybe forever, I don't trust myself to be the judge of good character.
You practically begged him not to leave your side.
I cringe thinking about it.
He probably has women throwing themselves at him all the time.His body is harder than a plate of steel, and even through his protective gear, I couldn't help but drool. I noticed he didn't have a wedding band on, so I'm assuming he's not married.
The fluttering in my belly goes crazy when he comes back in the tent, and he beelines it over to me. He hesitates for a moment then crouches down. Concern fills his face, and he doesn't say anything but studies me intently. It's the first time anyone has taken the time to acknowledge me in years.
Do not cry. You're being overly emotional and need to stop. Be normal.
I take a deep breath. "All safe and sound outside?"
He smiles, and my heart pitter-patters.
"All safe. Did you get your wounds looked at?"
"I'm fine," I quickly say.
A deep line forms between his brows. "Are you?"
No. I'm a forty-two-year-old mess.
"Yes."
"Ma'am, I noticed some scrapes on your legs. Would you humor me and let me clean them so you don't get an infection?"
"Would you not call me ma'am? It makes me feel old, and I already know I'm not getting any younger. Can you call me Julieta?"
"Yes, ma—" He stops and blows out a breath of air, almost as if he's nervous. "Julieta."
"Wasn't so hard, was it?" I tease.
Why are you flirting with him?
"Every now and then I surprise myself by the simple things I'm able to accomplish," he teases back.
"Pretty sure you can nail anything you want. I'm no different."
Heat floods his eyes.
