Ransom (Benson Security 4)

“Look at me, baby,” he said. “Don’t look at the water. There’s nothing you can do about that now. Look at me.”

She didn’t take her eyes from the calm surface of the lake. Now that he was closer, he could see she was shaking violently. Shock was setting in, making her feel cold even in the humid heat of the jungle.

“It’s okay, Belinda. I’m not going to let anyone else hurt you. You’re safe now.”

He carefully wended his way past root joints and over shrubs as he catalogued her injuries. Her left knee was swollen, and her right hip had a bloody red line where the bastard had sliced into her flesh. Her left eye was swollen and red. There was a bloody nick on the skin near her nipple. The corner of her bottom lip was split and bleeding. There were scrapes on her hands, stomach and forearms. And around her throat there was a ring of fingerprint bruises. Beast wanted to drag the guard back out of the water and kill the son of a bitch all over again. Death by caiman was too good for him. Beast wished he could have sliced him into tiny pieces and drawn his suffering out for as long as Belinda’s skin stayed bruised.

“It’s gonna be okay. I’m gonna clean you up and we’ll get out of here. You did good, baby. You fought him and distracted him. You bought us time. You did real good.”

He closed the scant few feet between them and gently placed his hand on her shoulder. She jerked away and spun to look at him, terror on her face.

“It’s okay, baby. It’s me, Beast.”

Her bottom lip trembled. “John?” Her voice was a strained whisper, testifying to the damage done to her throat.

“Yeah.” His heart clenched. “It’s John. Come here, baby, so I can hold you and convince myself you’re still alive.”

He expected to have to keep on coaxing her, but with an agonised sob, she threw herself into his arms. He staggered, and they went down to the ground together. Belinda curled into him with her arms up and her hands tucked under her chin. He wrapped her tight and cooed to her as he listened to her weep. Each pained gasp and sob broke something inside of him. Never before in his life had he wanted to take away someone’s pain the way he wanted to take Belinda’s. If he could turn back time and face the guard himself, he would do it in a heartbeat.

“It’s okay, I’m here,” he whispered as he stroked her hair.

“It’s not like the movies, John,” she said, each word a desperate croak. “It’s not like the movies. Nothing like the movies. Nothing.”

“No, baby, it isn’t.” He swayed slightly, rocking her; aware that his muscles were weakening now that the initial burst of adrenalin was wearing off. He had to get them back up into the tree, where he could keep her safe until he was stronger.

“Nothing like the movies,” she muttered again.

“Belinda, baby, we need to get back up the tree. Can you do that for me?”

She shook so hard that he wasn’t even sure she could hear him.

“Belinda, we’re safe in the tree. We need to go back there until I’m stronger, then we’ll get out of here. I need to clean your wounds, too. Remember, you told me it’s important to clean wounds in the rainforest.”

Still nothing but painful little sobs and lots of shaking. There was only one card left to play.

“Baby,” he said softly, “I really don’t feel so good, and I’m worried I’ll pass out here beside the lake.”

She stilled, then her head lifted and red-rimmed eyes looked up at him. “Are you still in pain?”

“Some,” he said. Although the waves were faint now and he barely registered them.

“Okay.” She swallowed, then winced, making him fight another burst of rage. “Okay.” She looked back at the tree. “We can do this.” It sounded like she was trying to convince herself.

John laid it on thick: “I’m gonna need some help. That ant bite knocked me out.”

She wiped the tears from her eyes and said, “Lean on me, John. I’ll help you.”

Just like that, he knew he was falling in love with this woman.

He cupped her cheek and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I know you will, baby. I know you will.”

Chapter 23

Getting back up the tree was harder than getting down, but they made it. If it seemed strange that Belinda was still naked and Beast was only wearing underpants, then neither of them noticed. All Beast could see was the evidence of Belinda’s ordeal.

He made her sit with her back to the tree while he cleaned her wounds using water from a bottle she’d filled and his damp shirt.

“This cut on your hip is deeper than I thought it was,” he told her as he gently cleaned the wound.