Her pulse exploded as the vehicle approached. It could be anyone. Someone more interested in killing Tiago than saving his life.
A van emerged through the trees, slowing on the road at the entrance of the trail. Twenty feet away.
Only the front of the vehicle had windows, and through the glass, she made out two faces.
Faces she didn’t recognize.
Her hands shook as she planted her feet on either side of his body, crouching over him and holding out the machete.
The arm connected to hers limited her range of motion, but she had a weapon. Multiple knives. They would have to go through her to get to him.
The doors opened and shut. Her muscles trembled with enough force to stop her heart.
“Don’t come any closer!” She adjusted her grip on the hilt and bit down on her cheek, sawing through tender tissues.
Footsteps approached. Big men, wearing sunglasses, heavy boots, and armed to the gills with holstered guns and knives.
They didn’t run at her. Didn’t free their weapons and start shooting.
“Who are you?” she shouted. “What do you want?”
A creak sounded near the van. The back door closed, and a tall, gray-headed, black man emerged on the trail.
The warm, familiar face swarmed her with overwhelming emotion. The surge crashed through her so violently she nearly fell beneath the weight of it.
The machete tumbled into the foliage, and she buckled over, giving into the sobs that piled in her throat.
Boones reached her side and gripped the handcuffs on her wrist, staring at the link to Tiago’s arm. She didn’t know what she expected, but it wasn’t the laughter that burst from his chest.
The comforting sound of it combined with the gentle squeeze of his fingers around hers reduced her to a hot mess of sobbing, laughing, maniacal hiccups.
“He’s lost so much blood.” She sobered and quickly walked him through the gruesome points of Tiago’s injuries.
The other two men gathered the backpack and weapons, and two minutes later, they had Tiago in their arms, up the trail, and laid out on his back in the rear of the van.
The handcuffs pulled her along. Boones joined her in the cargo space, which was loaded with multiple medical bags and equipment.
As much as she wanted the damn manacle off her wrist, she didn’t mention it as Boones went to work on Tiago’s wounds.
The light in the roof illuminated his steady scalpel and meticulous stitches, his face aglow with remarkable concentration.
She found a case of water amid the supplies and guzzled three bottles. She used another to wet Tiago’s lips and clean the blood from his body.
As Boones taped on the bandages, she filled him in on the events at the warehouse, explaining how things ended with Iliana.
He caught her up on what happened during the attack at the house. The news that Arturo was the only surviving guard hit her harder than she expected.
When Boones finished the last bandage, he nodded at the driver waiting in the front seat.
The engine rumbled to life, and the van shot into motion, speeding toward Caracas.
She took in Tiago’s rapid breathing, slack face, and bruised body, willing him to look at her. But his lashes didn’t stir.
It tightened her chest. “Is he going to live, Dr. Frankenstein?”
Boones cut his eyes at her, his expression disgruntled.
“You didn’t create the monster.” She clutched Tiago’s limp hand, linking their fingers. “But you’ve been patching him up for twelve years.”
“He’s not a monster.”
Flashbacks of the past few hours peppered her mind in blood and bullets. “He is when he needs to be.”
His face softened, relaxing the scars on his cheeks. “I’ve been his accomplice through it all. He will always have my support, even when he makes mistakes.”
“He’s made a lot of mistakes, Boones. Just in the past couple of months. With me.”
“Yes, but he’ll learn from them. I don’t always agree with his actions, but I believe in him.” He crooked a finger at her. “Let me look at you.”
She scooted around Tiago’s body and let Boones clean the injury on her face. Then he removed the bandages on her thigh. His body language gave nothing away as he cleaned the swirling cuts and applied a tingling cream.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” She searched his eyes.
“Yes.” He redressed her leg with clean bandages. “You’re healing him.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s been hurting for a long time. I can only heal the body. But you…” He clutched her hand and placed it against Tiago’s chest. “You heal the rest.”
She didn’t know about that, but there was one milestone she could share with him.
“He’s giving up the kidnapping business.” At the widening of his eyes, she felt a shimmer of pride. “He made that deal with me last night.”
Boones studied her with an unreadable expression. Then a smile broke through. “See? You’re good for him.”
She nodded, accepting the truth in that. “So how about helping me out of these handcuffs?”