Page 34 of Delirium

I’d be fine. I shrugged into my clothes, grabbed my satchel filled with the paperwork I needed to hold Clancy accountable, and a fair amount of cash if I needed to buy off any of his workers. They worked for me, by all accounts, but I wasn’t above a bribe if it meant I got what I wanted.

Outside my room, I was sure it was hotter than it’d been yet on the boat. The heat spread like a fog, settling on my skin, sweat already starting to pool in my pores.Fuck.

I tugged at my collar, hoping for even a whisper of a breeze, but there was nothing. Just the thick, humid air of the rainforest. Clancy better be waiting for me, or there would be hell to pay.

I followed the sounds of voices to the side of the boat, where Nash, Scarlett and Camp stood in a small group, looking all too cozy with each other. When I approached, they each turned to look at me. I filed away their expressions, not caring to process them when I had to spend an entire day in their company.

Scarlett looked at me briefly, then looked away before I could figure out the emotion behind her eyes. Camp scanned me with a sharp gaze, probably checking to make sure I wasn’t still drunk from the night before—not like it mattered, I was still be twice the man he was, drunk or not. Finally, Nash cast a sad glance in my direction, possibly even disappointment.

Strange. Although, we were an odd group of people thrown together by even odder circumstances. I wasn’t sure what else I could hope for.

Nash tightened the strap of his light-looking backpack and gave us all a quick nod. “Right. We’re off. Remember the rules, okay? Stay close. If it looks dangerous, it probably is. If it doesn’t look dangerous, it’s probably deadly. Jaguars are primarily nocturnal and should be sleeping, so they shouldn’t be a problem. But stay away from the frogs, please.”

He heaved the gangplank easily over the edge of the boat, where it crashed down to the muddy riverbank in front of us. “All right, one at a time.”

Camp went first, easily scaling the steep walkway. Scarlett followed, and I didn’t miss the gentle way Nash helped her up over the edge—even though she didn’t need a hand, I was sure. She was far more capable than either of them realized.

“You next, James.” Nash gestured toward the ramp.

Ignoring the way my skin prickled beneath my shirt, I leaped over the side of the boat, the walkway squelching into the mud with each step.

Once Nash was off, he patted down his cargo pants, checking the tightness of the holder that held a machete, and pointed to the rainforest ahead of us, where there looked to be only the barest shape of a path. “That way.”

We followed off in a misshapen line, with Camp and Scarlett leading us, quiet conversation between them trickling back to me.

I wondered what they were talking about. If they were talking about me. If they were talking about all the things Camp did to her, and what he wanted to do to her when we got back to the boat in the evening.

I was jealous, I realized with a start.Jealous.The stupid little green-eyed monster that was so beneath me I hadn’t considered it. But here I was just the same, envying the closeness between Scarlett and Camp, and wondering if I’d ever have that for myself.

I wanted Scarlett on my arm, brushing shoulders with the thin shirt she wore. I wanted to tug her ponytail, a dark snake down her back, poking out of the wide-brimmed hat she wore. I’d pull her hair until she had no choice but to look me in the eye. I wondered what I’d see then, when there was nothing between us, just two polarizing souls staring back at each other. Would I see hatred? Contentment? Wrath? Desire?

Maybe a combination of all four. Not that it mattered, because now Camp and Scarlett had stopped ahead of me, and he was brushing something off her shoulder. I pulled up to a stop as well, not getting any closer than I had to.

I turned when I felt someone close to me. Nash. He looked at me with that same blank stare, the one I couldn’t place when we were still on the boat.

“Can we talk?” he asked.

I shrugged. “Not like I can stop you. You can say whatever you want. Besides, they look pretty busy.” I nodded toward Camp and Scarlett. Nash paled.

“Yeah. Well. We should just be glad they found each other in this fucked up world, right?” Nash’s words fell flat, and he swallowed hard.

“Mmm.” I rolled my eyes in agreement. “What did you want to talk about?”

“The other night at dinner. I…I, ah, I’m sorry.” He fiddled with his belt, clinking together the odd tools hanging off it. The knife. A rope. A compass. He could’ve stepped out of any adventure movie.

Minus the fact he didn’t have the girl.

“Okay.” I wasn’t sure where this conversation was headed, because it seemed rather pointless to me.

“Seriously. I shouldn’t have reacted like that. Despite our past, you’re still my traveler, and I should’ve respected you as such. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” He was apologizing to me, for something I had done. Funny, though. His eyes never left Scarlett.

I should be the one apologizing. But the idea of it soured in my mouth, turning to ash before I could get the words out. “She deserves to know. No matter how you feel about her, or she feels about you, she deserves to know your past.”

Nash tore his eyes away from Scarlett. “Does it matter anymore? It’s obvious she’s with Camp. I don’t consider myself a homewrecker.”

“Ah. Is that the bottom of the morality list then? The tenth circle of Hell must be saved for homewreckers in your book, right below?—"

“Just stop.” Nash held up his hand. “I don’t need your opinion. I said my piece. I’ll get you to your city, you can get what you need, then you can go home. Everyone will go home, and I’ll still be here, me andCarpe Diem. And that’s best for everyone involved. Nothing needs to change.”

---