Page 62 of Hostile King

His eyes settle on my chest where Tomás’ blood nestles against my breasts.

“And hopefully your short vacation in the park will be worth it. Watch out for the snakes though.”

He winks and my stomach lurches.

18

CARINA

It was a short drive through the woods, descending over uneven slopes where deep potholes made the wheels grind. Eventually, we rose higher into the mountains.

The entire time, I had focused on Tomás’ shallow breathing and the way his pale skin misted, salty and distressed as his organs struggled to function. The constantthump,thump,thumpof my heart escalated to a gallop when his lashes flickered.

Despite his battle to win, he was unreachable.

This has to be the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. We’re miles from civilization and in the hands of a terrorist who’d happily set alight the earth Tomás walks upon.

Except I’ve learned to listen to my instincts, which I did, and now I’m wondering if it was a monumental mistake.

But I trustel Fantasma. He wouldn’t drop me into the ocean to play with sharks without buying a speedboat for a quick exit. And I’m not sure which scares me the most. His vengeful temper or the stranger whose four-wheeler flew over the rough terrain with a convoy of canines in hot pursuit.

After a few uncertain, panicky minutes, we arrive at a sprawling lodge that ate up a clearing on the otherwise wooded hillside. It’s discreetly hidden beneath ancient trees and verdant landscape which shelters an aged wooden exterior and tall stone pillars linked to a boundary fence disappearing out of view.

I could scream at the top of my lungs and only the wildlife would stir.

Shane had pulled up behind the pack of excited dogs, close to a flagstone path fronting the property and waited until Enrique banged his hand against the side of the truck, signaling for us to get out.

Together, the three of us carried Tomás inside, navigating steps to a wide front porch and a tree trunk framed doorway. Our elbows had bashed into walls as we shuffled along, the narrow corridor lit only by the natural light following us from outside. After a few staggered steps taken in silence, we took a sharp left where sliding doors led to an impressive surgery.

Now we’re fuck knows where in the natural world, lost and one hundred percent dependent on Enrique. My heart shrivels. This is a moonshot. Hope woven into a spiritual prayer to the universe.

“Out.”

Enrique stretches his hands into a pair of blue latex gloves, his clinical, well-equipped treatment room an unexpected backdrop for a rugged man who clearly spends most of his time in the wilderness.

A central operating table gleams under the bright lights of a round lamp screwed into the neighboring wall on a moveable arm. There are wires connected to mounted monitors, oxygen tanks with tubes, and breathing apparatus stashed by the window and a weird rubber-like flooring underfoot.

“Let me help.” I search Tomás’ wrist to feel his pulse scarcely beating.

“Both of you need to get the hell out of here.” Enrique glares at Shane who stands by the doorway, filling it with his broody presence. “This is a sterile environment, and you’re a breeding ground for contamination. If I go to all this hassle of saving this fucker’s life, the infection you give him would send him to his grave. So, do the guy a favor and wait outside on the porch.”

An overhead fan thwaps, its jaunty angle makes the blades click. He jangles surgical instruments onto a steel tray, fixes a circular magnifying glass to his forehead and pulls the cord to tighten it.

“And no fucking snooping. My security camera’s will pick up your movements. Go back out the way you came and stay outside until I come for you.”

“Wait…I’ve assisted in operations before—,” I plead. “I know how to—”

“Are you medically trained?” He interrupts while tying a plastic apron around his waist. “A surgeon? Or even a nurse?”

“No…but I—,”

“Close the door on your way out.” Enrique jabs a finger at the exit. “You’re wasting time. His—and mine. Get out.”

Out of all the emotions I’ve endured, I hate feeling helpless. It’s not the same as relinquishing control to a man who offers pleasure and pain. That’s fantasy, my dirty desires. Helplessness is when you’ve no control, no power, no authority, and only an empty feeling in your chest.

And right now, I’m putting faith in a man who won’t give me the opportunity to help. I may not be a medic, but I’ve got experience and a level head, and I know Tomás.

Shane reluctantly pivots away from the gut-wrenching scene where his best friend is being cut out of his shirt. He stomps along the wood-paneled corridor and out onto the wraparound deck. His big boots create deafening thuds to match his heavy temper.

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