Page 683 of One More Kiss

I pause, secretly hoping and foolishly prepared to accept what he offers.

He doesn’t.

Rather than press his moist lips to my scarred mouth, he lets go, taking the air with him.

I blink furiously, blood roaring, and fingers tracing my unkissed mouth with a false look of nonchalance, masking the mindless disappointment. Out-of-this-world lips part, and a seductive tongue skates between his teeth. Rather than stare at me with disgust, he projects a hunger that burrows under my flesh and sets me on fire.

What if this man’s distorted soul is the gravity to anchor me in place? If his darkness can turn mine into twilight.

I shake off the disturbing notion, certain it’s purely a misfortune of female hormones. Just a forbidden fascination I’d take to my grave.

“Come on, Tommy. We’ve got a dead guy and a streak of tigers ready for a feed. Let’s do what we came here for and get the fuck out.”

Tomás scowls, fixes his cufflinks, and turns on his heels. “Go with Shane. You’re needed at the back of the Raptor.”

Even his pickup is named after a carnivorous bird. I take a breath in the shivery coldness of his absence, then consider it simply a reaction to starvation. It’s been too many days since my last meal. A sigh shudders out of me, and I join Shane at the open tailgate. He jumps into action, climbing onboard.

“I’ll take the head. You grab the feet. Don’t let go until I say so,” Shane orders.

With an almighty shove, he pushes the cumbersome corpse, so it nudges over the edge. Grubby work boots are visible beneath the polythene layer, something the animals wouldn’t find a use for. The acrid stench of wrapped death wafts up my nose, making my stomach heave. It’s an unexplainable smell that both freezes my skeleton and causes sweat to gather at my nape.

It’s barbaric what these men are doing—what Tomás is making me do. Nonetheless, I have to survive, and I’ll do anything to make sure it happens. So, I hold my breath, hook under stiff calves and stagger backward as the weight transfers into my arms. Shane leaps out of the Raptor, hauling the guy's shoulders into his chest and takes the lead. With me facing the jungle below us, he bears most of the deadweight as we ramble over uneven terrain jumbled with rocks of all sizes. The further down we go, the more hazardous the ground becomes with marshy puddles and slick mud close to a wooden labyrinth.

He stumbles first, and then I wobble on the inappropriate sandals he picked out for me even when he knew I’d be transporting a corpse. I lose my footing and accidently let go, hearing the distinct crack of brittle bone from under the see-through film. Shane grunts, the look of annoyance he offers speaks for him. For a split second I stare at jeans, to where the dead man’s blood has leaked in drips. He lowers his lashes to the mess and sighs heavily. “Fuck, he’ll make me walk me back,” he bites out, shaking his head.

It takes a few attempts to manhandle my end of the body into the air again. The effort is exhausting, and my energy levels are zapped.

“Drop him here,” he grimaces, finally able to drop the load. “We’ll roll him out of the plastic, so the tigers can catch the scent of fresh blood.”

I happily unlock my arms and shake out the burn. Feeling eyes on my every move, I glance up and pinpoint Tomás at the crest of the hill. He waits by the truck with arms folded, feet apart, and eyes shaded behind aviators—watching me like a hawk.

“What sort of challenge is this?” I ask Shane when the Mexican revolves once. The instant he’s uncovered, I slam a hand over my nose and mouth as the god awful stench hits my nostrils, and the unwrapped stiff attracts buzzy insects. “That’s nasty.” I dry heave, my eyes watering with the struggle to suck in clean air. “What will dumping the Mexican prove to him?”

Shane inches away with the back of his hand held under his nose. “Perhaps he’ll see how utterly uncaring you are about the fact Flávio will end up torn limb from limb by wild cats.” He shrugs. “Other kids would be whimpering like babies.”

The Mexican’s lifeless body lies before us in the dirt, now free from the blood smeared membrane, his eyes vacant. “I’m not a kid,” I point out.

“My apologies.” He bows mockingly. “Let’s face it, though, you’re a teen and we’re a decade older. To us, you’re just a kid.”

“I’ll be twenty in a couple of months.” He didn’t have to look at me to hear the glare in my tone. “And I don’t know this man. He’s already dead, so he won’t feel a thing when the tigers mutilate his body.”

Shane checks over his shoulder, distracted by Tomás’ hand signal. “Look, if this was your real challenge, I’d give you a thumbs up and offer you a smoke.” Using his boot, he kicks the plastic in half so the crimson mess is contained on the inside, then he carefully forms a large rectangle, all the while doing his best not to get more stains on his clothes. Eventually he reduces the mass to a smaller square, lifts it in the air and holds it away from his legs.

My scalp prickles. “What do you mean?”

“Your actual challenge is to wait right here with Flav’s body.” He nudges his boot into the Mexican. “Just you and the dead guy until the big ole cats show up.”

“Wait… you’re joking… h-h-he… wouldn’t leave me out here?” My terrified stutter is met with a long sigh.

“I’m not sure who you think that guy up there is, but yeah, Tommy would leave you here if he thinks you’re a threat to his family.”

Outrage amplifies in my chest, a surge of adrenaline shocking me into a fit of temper. “I’m coming with you,” I hiss, swallowing the lump in my throat. “If he wants me to wait here, he can order it himself.”

“Don’t make me do this.”

“Do what?”

Shane taps the gun snug to his hip. “Threaten you with my piece. If I have to, I’ll blow a hole in your knee cap.”

“Fuck you!” I snarl, balling my hands into fists I know won’t save me from this calamity.

“Look, kid, answer his questions and don’t give him any bullshit. Tommy can sniff out a lie better than the tigers sniff out stiffs. You don’t come across as the usual bitches we’re used to...” He shrugs, almost unhappy about his order to leave me here. “Good luck, kid.”

And with that, he winks and starts to scale the gentle slope.

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