Gripp

17

For the first time in his life, Gripp questioned himself. As he plodded through the jungle with April by his side, he struggled with his emotions. Every now and then, he’d glance at April, and she’d give him a sweet, shy smile.

He didn’t know if she wanted to talk about what had happened between them or if she was happy to leave things as they were. He supposed that if she wanted to talk about it, she would. His senses were so tuned to her that he knew she was aroused from being close to him. The panther side of him wanted to drag her off into the jungle to ravish her for eternity and never rejoin the civilized world.

A loud purr vibrated through his chest at the thought of it. Gripp found this to be the best course of action at the simplest part of his nature.

Until the general’s forces come in on us unannounced after tracking my GPS.

“Gripp?” April said softly. “Do you want to talk about …”

“Shh!” he said, putting up a hand to stop her. “I see something.”

Gripp was pretty sure April wanted to talk about last night, and now it looked like he was deflecting her, but he really did see something. Even though he did want to talk to her about it, now wasn’t the time.

“I see a shack on the edge of that marsh, there,” he said, pointing. “Do you see the airboat tied at the jetty?”

April nodded. “Yep.”

“Okay. What we’re going to do is sneak through these plants and slip onto the boat from this side. I don’t want anyone to know we’re here until we start the craft. Got it?”

“Sure,” she said softly. “I’ll be super sneaky.”

Gripp smiled, not knowing if it was a joke or not. To his surprise, April waded through the knee-deep water, carefully slipping through the fronds to make her way to the airboat as quietly as possible.

He was impressed by her stealth and relieved that she hadn’t argued with him. He’d been expecting her to complain about the color of the sky at some point.

April slipped over the edge of the airboat, making it rock only a little as she lay flat on the floor. Gripp waded around, keeping his head low, and untied the boat.

He'd have to be fast. He’d be fully exposed for a few seconds as he jumped from the water. Then standing straight up while starting the engine and powering away would make him an excellent target.

Gripp braced himself and grabbed the edge of the airboat, hauling himself up. As he fell against the bottom of the boat … and April … he heard a shout.

The boat rocked, hurling Gripp from side to side as he tried to stand. He grabbed the controls just as he heard the door of the shack swing open.

“Hey! Get away from my boat!” An old man stood in the doorway, raising his arms.

“Gripp!” screamed April, “he’s got a gun!”

There was no time to listen, and nothing Gripp could do except hit full power as quickly as possible. He didn’t dare look behind them but threw himself to the floor as a few shots went wild over their heads.

“Don’t worry,” Gripp said, too focused on their escape route to look down at April. “It’s a lot harder to hit a moving target than most people think.”

When she didn’t answer, Gripp figured she must be terrified, maybe even beyond speech. As soon as they were out of range of the shooter, Gripp looked down to reassure her.

To his surprise, she wasn’t on the floor. He looked around and saw that she was sitting up at the back of the boat. The wind was blowing her hair in shimmering, golden waves, and she was laughing. When she turned to look at him, he was enchanted by her joyful smile.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

She nodded. “I haven’t had this much excitement in years.”

Gripp chuckled. “Some people might call this a little too much excitement.”

“Well,” she said, laughing softly. “Maybe.”

Gripp turned to look down the river, listening intently to the sounds of birds and other animals moving through the forest. All seemed quiet. He hoped they could get to the meetup point without running into any more armed patrols. Though they had been out for a couple days now.

Or violent civilians. That guy had a good reason to shoot at us, though. We did just rip off his boat.

“So, where are we headed?” April asked.

Gripp shrugged. “I can show you a field map if you like, but it isn’t far. Maybe another few days of living rough, then you’re back to civilization.”

She laughed softly. “Maybe I don’t want to go back.”

Gripp looked at her, and she returned his gaze, her eyes wide and welcoming. He felt like she was trying to tell him something … like maybe she wanted to disappear into the jungle just as much as he did.

“Don’t you have an article to write?” he asked. He still hadn’t gotten over breaking into the mine a second time to retrieve her camera and documents.

“Of course,” she said, laughing. “This will be the most important story of my career. It’ll probably get me the Pulitzer.”

Gripp turned back to watch the river part in soft waves before the boat. He could fantasize, but truly, the comfort of being loved was far out of his reach. He should stop hoping for it because he was going to be hurt even worse in the long run.

Even though he tried to keep his mind on the mission, his eyes kept sneaking back to watch April. She sat on the edge of the boat, looking like comfort and pleasure rolled into one. The memories from the night before would not leave him … her soft kiss, her writhing body, and her hot breath on his lips.

With fierce effort, Gripp got himself under control. He was here for one reason, and that was to buy his freedom. It could never work between him and April, and he knew that. He was here to protect her and get her home. Nothing more.