Page 34 of Freedom Fighters
Chapter Seven
Carmen couldn’t sleep. She rested on top of her sleeping bag, under the mosquito net that Ledo had found at the markets. He’d bartered for a dozen of the nets, in exchange for his watch, which he saw as a win-win. “The watch loses time. Ten minutes every day. It was a good deal.”
The net allowed Carmen to sleep where the air reached her, rather than wrapping herself in thestifling bag, although the net itself halted some of the air flow. Everyone else in the camp slept, for the fire had burned low and the refectory was silent except for the occasional pop of embers.
It was the third night after their return fromValleLeñosa. Carmen hadn’t seen Garrett since he halted the Jeep at the back of the monastery, swung his long legs out and stalked off into the building.He had, she supposed, been working in the hospital.
He’d spared a thought for the war effort, though. The day after their return, he sent Archie and Ledo out to obtain a radio transmitter. They came back the day after that, a transmitter in their backpack.
Garrett also remembered Nemesis’ demand that the next shipment of silver be stopped. Llora taped a schedule of sentry duty shifts for thenext week to the wall next to the kitchen area. Two people at a time, to watch the rail line. Efraín and Ismael had wiped their mouths of food and headed for the tracks immediately.
The night of their return from the meeting with Nemesis, Carmen found herself unaccountably sleepy, to the point where she couldn’t stay sitting up at the fire. Her head kept falling forward as she drifted off tosleep even though it was barely eight in the evening.
Llora and Angelo helped her to her sleeping bag and arranged the net over her, although Carmen didn’t remember that. She only realized the net was there when she woke up six hours later. She woke with a start, panic threading hot slivers through her blood and making her heart lurch.
It was two in the morning and the camp was as still as itwas now. She had been disoriented, that first night. She barely remembered being helped to her bed. She rested, breathing heavily, her heart hurrying along as she tried to calm herself. Had she been dreaming?
The snatches of images and emotions that lingered in her mind were from the café. The sense of inevitable capture, that her fate was sealed and there was nothing she could do to halt it,laid over her like a pall. Yet she was here and safe.
She couldn’t stop thinking about the near-miss, about how it might have gone horribly wrong, if not for Garrett’s quick thinking, and she would shiver. She tried to clear her mind and think of something else, something pleasant that would soothe her back into sleep. The moments from the café crowded out anything she tried to recall.
“Spinelesswoman!” she railed at herself. “Get a grip, for heaven’s sake!”
If the memory was going to haunt her, then she would use it. She would ruthlessly analyze every second of it, looking for alternative actions, better reactions. What could she learn from this?
She settled back onto her bag and considered each action and reaction that had happened, in their correct order, from the moment Nemesisglanced casually around him and breathed “Insurrectos.”
Doggedly, Carmen brought her attention back to the next second and the next, examining each one with cold detachment.
Until she reached the moment where Garrett kissed her.
Carmen curled up on her sleeping bag, humiliation flushing through her. She had liked it! She had liked his kiss. She had lost track of every external and let herselfenjoy the kiss.
How could she be so damn stupid? For a start, the kiss meant nothing. It was a way for Garrett to shield her recognizable face. It was a smart move. The soldiers would instantly think of sex and she would be relegated to the minor label of ‘woman’ in their minds. The sergeant called her a whore, proving the ploy had worked. None of them looked at her properly. None of them identifiedher.
If she was a professional soldier, if she was doing her job properly, then the kiss should mean less than nothing to her, too.
How could she enjoy a kiss from Garrett of all people? He had a chip the size of Texas on his shoulder, he was always angry and she couldn’t remember a single moment when he had been nice to her, just to be nice. He was anA-grade asshole.
His eyes say somethingdifferent.
The little voice popped up in the middle of her deliberations, derailing her focus. Garrett’s eyes swam back into her memory. Without the dark stubble, he looked almost…sexy. His eyes, without the distracting scrubbiness around them, were more than that. She had been drawn to the depth in his eyes. The emotion there, hidden far out of reach. There was knowledge. Intelligence.
Well,she had always known he was smart. He was a fully qualified medical doctor and on top of that, he seemed to have lived a dozen other lives. He just knew things. Odd things. Dangerous things. When had he got so good with guns, just to start?
Yet she kept coming back to his eyes. The way they had looked as he leaned over her in the café, just before his mouth touched hers.
Carmen shuddered ontop of her sleeping bag. It wasn’t distaste that caused the tremor. She was wound up tight, her body throbbing with need.
“Damn,” she muttered. She rolled over on to her other side and firmly told herself to go to sleep, or she would be a slug in the morning.
It was a long time before sleep came, that first night. The night after that—last night—had been a repeat performance. She had gone toher bag early because the broken night had left her just as slug-like as she had warned herself she would be.
Garrett did not appear that day, which was a relief. She didn’t want to look him in the eye. He would read her thoughts far too easily. He would read them and then deride her for them.
She had fallen asleep quickly last night. Then she woke just past midnight, only to toss and turn onher bag, wretched embarrassment flaring as she realized she wanted Garrett more than she had ever wanted any man.
She couldn’t understand why she was drawn to him, when he had the personality of an automaton. Why couldn’t she feel this raging need for Angelo? Angelo was kind and honorable. He was a good Vistarian and she knew he cared for her, even though he said nothing. Angelo barely movedher pulse, though.
