Words of Love (2 page)

The wind was driving the rain into them and they were both panting. The uphill climb on the slick path was getting steeper. But they were nearly on top of the site. Just a little further to go.

“Almost there,” he yelled to her over the thunder, just as the jungle lit up all around them and the air exploded.

Almost as though it were a strobe effect, he watched as Jessica was hurled forward. A tree, about ten yards behind her near the path, burst into pieces as Brett realized what was happening.
 

Lightning strike.
 

Jessica thudded into his chest. He instinctively grabbed her and held tight as he landed on his backpack with a grunt. His eyes had shut tight against the sudden glare but he snapped them open as they rolled awkwardly off the backpack to their sides. They landed on the ground with a splash.

He looked down at her.

“
Jessica, are you okay?
”

He saw her blink through the glasses, though they sat askew on her face. He kept hold of her, even though they were on the ground.

“Jessica!” he tried again, shaking her a little. Rain was streaming over her face but she shakily pushed her glasses up her nose. “Are you okay?” he said.

She slowly nodded.

He wasn’t sure if that was true but he hoped so. They needed to get out of this storm. The path where they lay had turned into a creek.

“We’ve got to go,” he said, as he let her go.

He stood up, a little shaky himself. Then he reached down under both her arms and pulled her up to stand. She wobbled for a moment but straightened her hat and then started looking for something–her suitcase.
 

They saw it at the same time, lying in the path, almost covered with muddy water. As she turned to fetch it, Brett saw her back. The fabric was
singed
.

“Oh my god,” he said but she hadn’t heard in the downpour and the wind.

• • • • •

Jesse’s retinas still glowed with the lightning flash but she sloshed to the luggage and found the handle. She heaved it to its wheels and turned.

Brett was staring at her but there was hardly time to notice. Behind him, from upslope, something was coming. Something white, moving fast.

She wanted to say something, scream for him to move, but her throat was frozen. He was reaching out to her now and, as he extended his hand, she grabbed it.

As she dove off the path, she tugged him with her, off balance.

A white wall of boiling water surged past their feet, down the hill, as they fell into the thick foliage of the jungle floor. In moments, Brett was up and screaming something. The ringing in her ears made it impossible to understand the words but the look on his face was enough.
 

They were in trouble.

Now or never
, he thought, as energy flooded through him.

Run or die.

Jessica had only just got to her feet when he grabbed her arm and took off. He crashed through the soaked thicket to the left of the path that was now a boiling creek. As though nothing weighed him down, he ran upward. The ground cover was making for better traction than the path.
 

I should have thought of that before!

He felt the weight of Jessica’s arm in his hand and didn’t have to stop to check on her. He drug her along–crashing upward, forward, through and over the thicket.

There it is!

The mouth of the cave was just a dim smudge against the dark mound but there it was!

Lightning flashed above them and he felt Jessica jerk.

He had his arm around her waist now and was running, lifting her off the ground. He had no idea how long he ran like that but finally they were at the mound. His thighs burned but the sensation only propelled him harder. With a final push, he took the narrow, switchback path up to the left, then back right, and then onto the ledge in front of the cave.
 

Suddenly, they were inside.

Finally he slowed as the darkness of the interior overtook them. He knew without having to see it that the camp was only several yards away. As he doubled over in heaving grunts, trying to get his breath, he let Jessica go. He put his hands on his knees and shut his eyes.
 

That had been close.

A sudden chill of fear ran through him and he realized he was still wearing the backpack. He quickly stood and shrugged it off. It hit the stone floor with a thud. As he put his hands on his hips, still breathing hard, he looked at Jessica. But it was too dark to make her out.

Feeling in front of him, he found the table with the propane lantern on it. He quickly lit it and the campground appeared in front of them.

The cavern was enormous, fading into black almost immediately. The green canvas tent was next to the wall, off to the right. It was a tall freestanding field tent. He’d gotten tired of hunching over in the little camping domes.
 

“Home sweet–” he had started to say as he turned to her.

She was standing stock still, a hand pressed down over her mouth as though she were stifling a scream. The other hand–Brett stared at it–the other was still gripping her suitcase. Behind the rain dappled glasses, her eyes were shut tight.

“Jessica?” he said, as he stepped toward her. He looked down at the suitcase and realized that she was gripping the handle so hard her knuckles had turned a pinkish white. “Jessica?” he said, gripping her by the shoulders. “Are you okay?”
Stupid
question, he thought. She was obviously not okay. “Right,” he said, quietly. “Let’s leave the suitcase.”

Slowly, he pried her fingers loose. One by one, he gently but firmly unfolded them, until he could hold her hand. He lightly rubbed the stiff fingers between his palms and looked up at her. She hadn’t moved. He stood directly in front of her and put his fingers on the hand covering her mouth. She immediately opened her eyes and inhaled through her nose. But as he started to lift her hand away, she resisted and her breathing rapidly rose.

If she needed to scream, then she should scream.
 

Who wouldn’t want to scream after what they’d just been through?

Her nostrils were flaring and collapsing, trying to keep up, and when he finally managed to pry her hand away, lightning flashed behind her at the cave entrance and she shrieked.

A bone-chilling wail leapt from her throat as she shut her eyes tight. It startled him and he nearly let her hand go but she was gripping his hand hard now. As the wail died away, her entire body began to tremble.

“Let’s get you inside the tent,” he said.

With an arm around her waist, he picked up the lantern, moved the tent flap aside and led her through.

Inside the spacious tent there were two small beds on either side. They were identical, with metal tubing that formed the headboard and footboard. The thin, tick mattresses were covered in sheets and blankets and each one was draped with mosquito netting. He’d used a tarp for a room divider, though it was currently tied up and out of the way. He left the lantern on the improvised work desk of plywood across rubber tote boxes. Still with his arm around her waist, he could feel the temblors shuddering through her body. If she didn’t lie down, she’d fall down.
 

He guided her through the netting and turned her to face him.

Like him, she was soaked through to the skin. The large clothing that draped her was plastered down and he realized with a start that she had a body. Petite and curved and…she shuddered again.
 

She was trying to take off the drooping canvas hat but her hands shook so badly there was no way she could manage it.

“Here,” he said. “Let me.”

He loosened the toggle under her chin and lifted the hat away. Long waves of red hair unfurled, wet and glistening in the dim light. Again, he was surprised. Somehow, he’d thought she wore her hair short.

He tossed the hat to the floor with a soggy plop and removed her glasses. He folded them with a little clinking sound and tucked them into his wet, chest pocket.

Maybe because she wasn’t trying to look through raindrops, she actually seemed to see him. He hadn’t realized she had hazel eyes. He grasped her lightly by the arms and searched her face.

“Are you okay?” he said, quietly. She slowly nodded. “Well,” he said, watching her lips. “Would you mind saying that? Just to humor me?”

“I’m–” she started, just as lightning flashed. She jumped and a tiny scream escaped from her. Then she shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she blurted out. Her eyes welled up with tears as the trembling ramped up and she shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she said, trying to hold back a sob.

She
was sorry?

He took a half-step forward and gently hugged her.
He
was the one who’d put them in danger.
He
was the one who’d knowingly set out in the face of a monsoon.

“No,” he said. “I’m the one who should be sorry.” She buried her face in his chest and he felt her crying. “Please, Jessica, don’t cry,” he said quietly. “I’m so sorry.”

Obsession,
his
obsession, had nearly got them killed. Then, he remembered the singe on the back of her shirt.

“Let me see your back,” he said suddenly.

He didn’t give her a chance to reply as he looked over her shoulder and down her back. Even in the lantern light, he could see that the white cloth was definitely scorched.

“Dammit,” he muttered.

He tried to lift the fabric away from her skin but it was too wet. Quickly, he separated from her and began to unbutton her blouse.

“What…?” she said.

“I need to see your back,” he said, his voice strained.
 

He realized his own hands were quaking a bit. Finally, the last button was undone and he turned her around and slipped the shirt from her shoulders. The skin of her back was a milky white but, in a vaguely oval shape that ran from above her bra to the top of her right shoulder, it looked as though she’d been sunburned.

“No,” he muttered. The lightning strike had been close enough to
burn
her. He blinked at the pink skin. “You’ve got a burn.” The first aid stuff–there’d be something for a burn. “I’m going to get the medical kit,” he said.

But she turned and tried to throw her arms around him, hampered by the white shirt hanging at her elbows and draped around her waist. She gripped the shirt at his waist.

“Don’t go,” she pleaded. “Don’t leave me alone.”

Lightning flashed and, even within the tent, the burst of light was visible. She flinched as the thunder peal echoed through the cavern. Her eyes were wide and the fear in them was undeniable.

He quickly put his arms around her, careful not to press on the burn, keeping his embrace low. As she pressed into him, he felt her breath on his throat. It came in small puffs and her hands gripped him tighter.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said lowly.

He felt her nod and realized she was still trembling.

“I’m sorry,” she said again.

“Don’t say that,” he said, quietly.

But she didn’t seem able to stop herself.

“I’m sorry,” she said again.

He pulled back from her, though she didn’t let go, and he took her face in his hands. Tears were still glittering there.

“Please don’t say you’re sorry,” he said, his voice louder than he’d intended. “This is
my
fault.”

Her eyebrows furrowed and her lips parted as though she were going to say something but she didn’t and then she started to let go.

But that was
not
what he had meant to happen. He wasn’t mad at
her
. He was mad at himself.
 

Lightning flashed again and she closed her eyes. The tears that had been brimming there started to fall–down her cheeks and then to her glistening lips. He stared at her mouth, pink and full, still quivering. Lightly, his thumb brushed across them. Though he’d intended to quell the small trembles, he only succeeded in making them worse. Suddenly he was struck by the silky feel of them under his touch. His eyes quickly swept down her chin, over her bare shoulders, and then moved down her slim torso. As his thumb slowly stroked her lower lip, he stared down at the lacy, red bra she wore and the plump swell of her breasts.

Out of nowhere, a wild thought suddenly gripped him.

We are
alive
.

His head swam with flashing images of their narrow escape. His heart hammered at the blistering memory of it.
 
Thunder rumbled and echoed in the cavern all around them as adrenalin surged into his veins yet again. Only the warmth of her skin against his hands drew his gaze back to her face. To his surprise, her eyes were open now, searching his, and still uncertain.

“We’re
alive
,” he ground out through a tight jaw.
 

And it felt
good
.
His eyes bored into hers, willing her to understand.
The two of them were alive and the sensation was incredible!

He could have tossed his head back and laughed but the renewed grip of her hands at his waist stopped him. He smiled down at her and suddenly he knew how to stop the quaking of those perfect lips.

“We’re alive,” he murmured as he bent to her and quickly covered her mouth with his.
 

As though the energy of the storm poured through him, he kissed her fiercely, unable to hold back. One hand flew to the nape of her neck and the other to her lower back. He pulled her close, craving the feel of her next to him, needing to know how alive she was. His lips kneaded into hers, devouring every silky bit, but
she
hadn’t moved.

In the back of his mind, a small alarm rang.
Stop
, it warned.
She doesn’t want this,
it insisted
. She’s a student
, it said. But Jessica was
so
much more than that. She was vital, and beautiful, and in his arms, as though only the two of them existed in all the universe.

Then, to his surprise, she kissed him back. Whether he’d actually paused or maybe just slowed down, he didn’t know. But as her mouth opened to him, he didn’t care.