Primitive Nights (31 page)

He laughed, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling. “And now she’s accusing us of trying to kill her? Please, Allen. I’ve heard enough.”

The commissioner leaned forward to brace his elbows on the desk, and Myla caught the slight humor in the turn of his lips. “I’m afraid I have to agree.”

“And what of me?” Damon moved closer to the commissioner’s desk. “Am I also a fabrication? Does my word against the men who have raped my land and our women mean nothing? What of the destruction they lay across our hunting grounds, and the illness they bring? Are these also Myla’s invented attempts to ruin this company?”

Mr. Dempsey pushed back in his chair as Damon placed his hands on the man’s desk. “I am living witness to what the men of InterCorp bring into my land. My people can speak. We have fought the onslaught of your world for years. Illness brought by these men took the lives of untold numbers.”

John shifted to stare at Damon, his gaze assessing. “You actually think to claim we intentionally bring disease?” He scoffed. “Yes, of course. What was I thinking? We expose ourselves to illness quite often before we set out to drill.”

Damon’s eyes flashed with anger. “Do not think because I live in the jungle that I am unintelligent. It is easy for you to turn words when you have dealt with the ignorance I have witnessed since coming here. Your encroachment on my land, the land of my forefathers, is blatant and invasive. You know your illness, your rapes, your repeated depletion of our trees brings death to my people. And still you choose to do so. This, to me, is intentional disregard. And from what Myla tells me, illegal.”

John shifted a hip against the desk. “And are your people not guilty of the same violence? Innumerable deaths of InterCorp workers have been reported. Do you deny your involvement?”

Damon’s shoulders tightened, and for a moment Myla considered letting him continue to have his say. This wasn’t the time, nor did he seem to be in a frame of mind to discuss the situation calmly.

She stood and put her hand on his shoulder. “Damon, don’t. The injustice brought on your people is not in question here. There are others who will help with bringing charges for that.”

His eyes softened when he returned her gaze, and relief flooded her mind. He would listen. He trusted her enough.

“Aha.” John’s throaty chuckled broke their silent understanding. He moved to the small window at the farthest corner of the office. “You and Myla are—together?”

Damon’s body tightened under her fingers. His voice however, remained calm and restrained when he spoke. “Together? You can see as much, can you not?”

John turned back toward them. “Yes, of course. But what I meant was—are you having sexual relations with her?”

Damon straightened. “That is not your concern.”

“So you are.” John looked over his shoulder at Mr. Dempsey. “Is it considered credible evidence for the boyfriend of the accuser to make statements about what he supposedly has seen?”

The commissioner found his voice. “Certainly makes it questionable.”

John continued with a nod, “And I have a hard time believing Myla’s
friend
here saw any of these barrels or spoke with any of these supposed witnesses.”

Myla cringed. She knew where this was going. Knew Damon wouldn’t understand that their relationship could cause more issues. The fact that she hadn’t thought of it herself made her furious.

Mr. Dempsey looked at Damon. “Young man, do you have any knowledge of the crimes of which Miss Jordan accuses InterCorp Oil?”

Damon shook his head.

“Then how do you presume to have anything to add?” John supplied the last question.

Heavy silence filled the room.

The commissioner stepped around the desk and crossed the room to open the door. “If you will excuse me, I have pressing issues to take care of. Please don’t waste my time with this foolishness again, Ms. Jordan.”

Myla stormed from the room, belatedly checking to make sure Damon followed. He did, though his angry gaze remained fixed on John.

The moment they were in the hall, Myla turned on John. “What in the world is going on?”

“Myla, it’s nothing personal. It’s my job.”

“Your job?” She shook her head. The amount of fucked-up shit happening in one day was astounding. Well the doorway wasn’t the portal. Would this strange day right itself? “Last I knew you disappeared in the jungle. My God. I mourned your death.”

“Myla, why don’t we go have a cup of coffee?”

He reached out to push a stray strand of hair behind her ear. She flinched at the contact, floored that he could reduce it to a drink for clarification. “Coffee?”

“She will not go anywhere with you.” Damon stepped between them, and for a moment, John looked ready to argue.

Myla didn’t want a scene. There was still too much at stake. “Damon, it’s okay. Please.”

He nodded, stepping back slowly. “I will wait over here.”

She watched him walk to the tall windows lining the hall. His protective nature must have made it difficult for him to leave, and she would have to thank him later.

“So you’ve fallen for a jungle man, huh?”

Myla turned to meet John’s gaze. Anger? Why in the world would that make him angry? “That is none of your business, John.”

“Ah, so you have.”

He shifted closer, and Myla backed away. The wall behind her blocked farther retreat. “Why are you doing this? How did you get mixed up with InterCorp?”

He laughed. “Money.” His hand moved up to brace next to her head against the wall, and he leaned in close. Inhaling deeply, he smiled. “After all the years of trying to help and not making any difference, hell, you can’t blame a man for losing his ideals. When the money was within reach, I took it. Doing what you’re doing will never make you rich, baby.”

“Don’t call me that.” She tried to move away, but he blocked her path.

“We could start over.” His hand moved down her throat to brush against her skin. “I’ve never found anyone I wanted as much as I do you.”

He had to be kidding. “I loved you. God, I was devastated when you didn’t return. I imagined so many ways you died. And now—” she slashed a tear from her cheek, “—I find you’ve been okay all along, camping with money? You’re disgusting, John. Leave me alone.”

His lips tightened and he pressed her closer to the wall. “So you’d rather lie beneath a destitute jungle mutt?” His derisive laugh was coarse in her ears. “Never thought you were the type for pity sex.”

Her palm connected with his cheek before she even realized she’d raised it. Any shock she might have experienced was stalled by the satisfaction of watching red marks form along his cheek in the pattern of her fingers. “He is a hundred times the man you ever were.”

John’s fingers closed around her wrist with a vicious shake. “Bitch.”

Damon walked over then. He said nothing, merely grabbed John by his shirt collar and threw him across the hall. John landed with a satisfying thud against the wall, and Myla covered her mouth. This was not good.

John pushed up unsteadily. For a moment, Myla thought he would rush forward. One look at Damon’s threatening stance seemed to make him reconsider.

Thankfully, he took a step back. “Go live with him, Myla. Find a place to disappear and leave this foolish notion of saving the world alone.” He turned to go, but stopped. Without looking back, he said, “If you don’t, everyone around you will suffer by association, and I know you couldn’t live with yourself if someone was hurt because of your stubbornness. There are billions of dollars at stake. Don’t be foolish enough to think we will let one woman, or a small, insignificant tribe stand in the way of that.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

They spent the remainder of the afternoon meeting with numerous other officials, and by the time they reached the hotel, Damon was sure Myla would fall asleep where she stood. She rested her head against the wooden panel of the door as he slid the key into the lock. Her eyes were closed, and he pulled her into his arms, pushing the door open with his foot.

“Come. You need rest.”

He drew her to the bed, and she dropped back on the pale green covers, draping an arm over her eyes. “Today was a big waste of time.”

Damon knelt to remove her shoes. The small red marks on her toes attested to the amount of walking they had done. Removing his own would prove difficult. The material felt fused to his skin. “Not a waste. Someone we spoke with will hear us. You must have faith.”

Her arm dropped, and she pushed up on her elbows to look at him. “No they won’t, Damon. Unfortunately, I’ve made things worse now. John and whoever else is involved in this has ties throughout the government. I’ve put everyone in danger.”

About to reach for the buttons of her shirt, he stopped. “What do you mean?”

“He said everyone around me will suffer.” Her eyebrows rose. “It was a threat against anyone near me. You. Your mother. The tribe. He wanted to scare me.”

Fear sliced through him with stunning speed. “We must go to them.”

She nodded. “I know. I wish there was a way…” Her eyes brightened and she sat up suddenly. “My computer!”

Before he could ask, she jumped up and scurried across the bed to the desk. He waited as she opened her computer. “What is it?”

“An e-mail. I didn’t think anything of it before.” Her fingers flew over the tiny buttons as she stared at the flat box. “It was a newer e-mail—”

She clicked and clicked. Damon walked over to stand at her shoulder. Several bright squares popped up, and a tiny arrow passed over them. She pressed a button and they disappeared. The image of a waterfall was revealed and covered each time a new square opened until his eyes blurred with the flash of colors.

He sat back on the edge of the bed and waited. Though he wanted to leave at that very moment, he had to trust that what she was doing might help. If anything happened to his people, the strange man—John—would pay with his life.

She mumbled, shaking her head. Tension built in the muscles of his neck. In his mind’s eye, he saw his mother, Seiret and the others, happily setting out for their new land. Then John’s image surfaced. He had numerous men with him. Myla’s screech pulled him back from the ugly vision.

“Here, Damon. This is what we need.” She pointed to the computer. “This list of names and dates meant nothing to me before. I only included it because it was attached to some of the other papers I’d discovered. They were in the vice president’s office, and I had to be quick so I made a copy of everything.”

“What importance are they?”

She smiled up at him. “These are the other men involved. He must have known.”

The last was said so softly, he was not sure if she spoke to him. “Who?”

“Mr. Harrison. Vice president of InterCorp.” She sat back and ran a hand through her hair. “He must have had suspicions. See, all these names have dates and locations next to them. I didn’t see it before because I didn’t know what I was looking for. I had no idea he was suspicious. If these dates and times correlate—” She pointed to her bag. “Pass me the papers in there.”

He did, and she riffled through them quickly. Pulling several from the stack, she pointed to the paper then to the computer, her finger running along the lines of writing. “The dates, times and locations are the same as the ones I have for the barrels of oil that weren’t inventoried.”

Damon tried to understand, he did, but her excitement was too profound. It was also infectious, and he laughed at her exuberance. “What does all this mean?”

She jumped up from the chair and threw herself into his arms. The momentum knocked him over, and she sprawled on top of him, scattering kisses across his face. He reached up to frame her face before slowing her kisses until he could claim her mouth. Whatever her excitement, he was thankful for it.

After a long, slow, arousing kiss, he let her pull back. She licked her lips, and he groaned. Pushing the tempting thoughts aside, he rolled her off of him and draped one of his legs across hers. “Now, explain.”

“With this information, I should be able to cause dissension between John and the other men.”

“How?”

She shook her head. “It’s too complicated to explain right now. But I have to send some e-mails, and then we can leave.”

The bed bounced beneath him when she got up. In the next instant, the buttons on the computer started clicking away again. With a small smile, he decided he should try the washing room. It would be interesting to try the water from the wall and it looked as if Myla would be busy for some time. And any reason to take off the torturous shoes was a good one.

“You know, I actually think I liked the trip by canoe better than this.”

Damon nodded, but his eyes remained fixed out the window. Myla had tried to bring him into conversation, but the farther they traveled, the darker his countenance became. She didn’t know what was bothering him. Maybe it was concern for his people. Maybe the travel made him motion sick. She knew her own belly was beginning to protest.

The jeep traveled over the faint paths at an alarming speed, and each rut and hole shook the vehicle violently. The driver and three other aid workers rode along in relative silence. The floor and back of the jeep were overflowing with supplies. There had barely been enough room for her and Damon to catch a ride, but she knew he wanted to arrive as soon as possible.