Fight For You (15 page)

My gut screams for me to get out of here, but I can’t. If I play sick, Paola won’t be able to get anyone else here in time to help her lead the tour.

Besides, Todd has already spotted me.

As I climb the steps behind Paola to grab the manifest and make sure the waivers have all been signed, I can feel his eyes on me. There’s no question now. He recognizes me—either from the pool or the pictures on Sam’s phone. If it’s the first, I can play it off and say that I have friends at the resort who let me come use the pool on my days off.

But if it’s the second…

I force a smile for Paola as she makes a joke about the amount of testosterone on the tour today—aside from the girl Todd is flirting with, who’s here with her parents and younger brother, there are only two other women—but inside I’m making plans.

There are fifteen different zip lines and the platforms in the middle of the tour are over two hundred feet in the air. We’re strapped in at all times—either to a platform or the zip line—but if someone were to accidentally become detached, stumble, and take a fall off one of those bigger platforms, it would be deadly. It’s happened before at other zip lines. That’s why everyone on these tours is required to sign a waiver acknowledging that they won’t hold the company responsible if they’re seriously injured or even killed.

If Todd recognizes me as Sam’s boyfriend, it will no longer be a matter of what she wants. The decision will be out of her hands. I’ll have to take care of him today.

Todd is a monster, but he’s not an idiot. He’ll realize it’s no coincidence that the boyfriend of the woman he raped is in a tiny vacation town in Costa Rica the exact same week that he is. He’ll suspect something and he’s not the type to consider all the options before he acts. He’ll take steps to neutralize the threat to his safety and if I’m not careful, I could be the one taking a fall.

I’m going to have to keep a close eye on him, all while pretending to be fine and keeping a bunch of hungover frat boys from getting hurt in the process.

The thought obliterates the last of my Zen.

The beer fumes rising off the group are so potent I’m pretty sure it’s a violation of my sobriety to breathe the air around them for too long. It makes me feel sorry for the six people on the tour who weren’t up all night chugging beer.

As Paola and I gather the group of twenty-five together at the trailhead and she starts briefing them on the safety procedures, I notice the family of four and the two German women are careful to stay at the far edge of the press of stinking bodies. I’m disgusted on their behalf.

The privileged, American, twenty-something male is an embarrassment to our country. I exempt myself from the group by virtue of the fact that I’ve lived in Croatia since I was thirteen, and though my sister married into money she used to finish raising me, I started my life in the gutter. And the marks of the gutter never truly leave you.

A part of me is still that feral little shit who learned to scare the bullies away by hitting harder than any of the other runts. He will always be with me, like my damaged molars, a result of childhood tooth decay fucking up my adult teeth. Before Caitlin took over as my surrogate mother, worked her ass off to afford trips to the dentist, and forced my ungrateful ass to brush, no one cared if I went to bed dirty with teeth that hadn’t been cleaned in a week.

My inner hood rat is awake and watchful now. Even as I smile and introduce myself, seeming to scan the entire group in front of me, my focus is on Todd, waiting for him to confirm that he’s a threat. I remember the violent lessons of my early childhood well. Destroy or be destroyed, throw the first punch or wish you had when you end up in the hospital pissing blood because the guy who got the jump on you damaged your kidneys.

Those lessons had begun to fade from my conscious mind, but the past year has brought them all back to the surface, where they’re going to stay. I won’t make the mistake of believing in the end of hard times or happily ever after again.

No matter how much I wish the world were a safe place for good people, it isn’t.

It isn’t enough to do your best, love your fellow man, and try to do no harm. Sometimes you have to be ready to fight back, and fight dirty because the one thing you can be sure of is that the bad guys never play fair.

“Any questions?” Paola asks in her strange little accent that has half the frat boys smirking at each other beneath their ball caps.

Paola is petite, with long dark hair she wears pulled back in a ponytail, big brown eyes, and a perpetually friendly expression on her makeup-free face. She’s more cute than sexy, but I guess the accent is enough to get the SBE brothers going.

Great, another thing to add to my list: keep an eye on Paola.

She’s wiry and a lot tougher than she looks, but she shouldn’t have to defend herself from sexual harassment while she’s at work. If these booze-soaked losers step over the line, I’ll make sure they know to take a step back.

“All right, if there are no questions, then let’s get started! It’s going to be a beautiful day.” Paola grins and turns to lead the way up the trail to the first zip line platform.

I hang back, waiting for the rest of the tour to fall in behind her before I follow up from the rear. On his way by, Todd smiles and nods his head in my direction. “What’s up, man? You always let the lady do the talking?”

I grin and stretch lazily, forcing myself to act like I don’t want to smash his head against the nearest rock until it explodes. “She’s better at it than I am,” I drawl. “Especially this early in the morning. If I were on vacation, I’d still be asleep, dude.”

He laughs. “Yeah, I had to drag half these assholes out of bed this morning. Some people have to be forced into a good time.”

I tell myself he’s not talking about Sam and what he bullied the rest of his friends into doing to her. I tell myself I can’t lose control three fucking steps into the hike. I tell myself that if I break now I will have tipped my hand and Todd will have the advantage from here on out.

In the five seconds it takes to form my reply, I tell myself a lot of smart things, but it still takes all the self-control I possess to force another smile and say, “I hear ya. But it’s great out here. Your friends are going to have a blast.”

“No doubt, man,” he says, his eyes narrowing on my face for a second before he turns and starts up the trail.

I notice that he’s managed to fall in right behind the girl he was talking to when I drove up—the girl who is here with her family and probably no more than sixteen years old. I wonder if that was the reason for our conversation. Maybe he was just stalling to get closer to the girl.

Or maybe he intended every word to be a double-edged sword shoved straight into my gut.

I don’t know, but the brief interaction puts me even more on edge.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Danny

All the way up to the first platform, I’m replaying every word and fighting the wave of sickness that sends my breakfast gurgling back up my throat.

I can’t believe I spoke to him. I can’t believe I smiled at the man who raped my girlfriend.

The jungle blurs and in my mind I see his hands on her, keep imagining that smug smile on his face while he filmed his friends taking turns. It’s all I can do not to rush him, tackle him to the ground, and beat him until he’s nothing but a bloody stain on the forest floor.

It shouldn’t have to be this way. I shouldn’t have to hide my rage and hate. I should be able to throw my knowledge of what he’s done in his face and challenge him to a fight to the death. Right here, right now.

Civilization has gone too far. Yes, we should feed the hungry and heal the sick. Yes, we should have equal rights and equal pay and an end to discrimination for the color of your skin or who you choose to love. But we should bring back the duel. I should be able to call Todd out and fight him with swords or guns or fists.

I should be able to kill him for what he’s done.

It is my right as someone who loves the person he nearly destroyed.

We coast down the first zip line and press higher into the mountains. The sun is shining brightly, but a cool breeze stirs the canopy, keeping the humidity at bay. It’s the nicest day since I arrived in Costa Rica, but I might as well be in hell.

As I follow the three men who attacked Sam deeper into the jungle, I slowly start to lose my shit. I try to smile and joke with the other guys as I strap them in and pretend this is just another tour, like the hundreds of others I’ve led for my company in Croatia and others across Europe, but inside I’m dying. I can feel my temperature spiking and my stomach churning like I just chugged a bottle full of acid instead of vitamin water.

The stress of keeping everything I’m feeling locked inside is making me physically ill. Sweat pours down my face and my hands shake as I double check the shorter German woman’s harness, which she said felt loose on the last ride. She smiles and thanks me after, but shoots me a look that makes it clear I look as shitty as I feel.

As she walks away, taking her place in the lineup for the third zip line, Paola—who is about to climb the platform—pauses and reverses direction, coming to stand beside me.

“You don’t look so good, Danny. Are you okay?” She tries to lay the back of her hand on my forehead, but I step away.

“You don’t want to touch me, P,” I say, with a shaky laugh. “I’m sweating like a pig.”

She frowns. “I can see. Michael said there’s something going around from the cruise ship that landed a few days ago. A nasty virus or something. Maybe you’ve caught it. Do we need to turn around?”

I shake my head.

’m not turning around. I don’t want to give the brothers any more reason to remember me and I still need to figure out if Todd’s playing games or if he thinks I’m just a tour guide. “Nah, I’ll be fine. I think it’s something I ate last night. I’ll push through.”

“All right, but why don’t you take a few minutes to yourself once we get the last of them on the line,” she says. “I’m going to take the group up to the waterfall for a rest and posing for pictures. You can rejoin us on the trail on the way down. That will spare you a mile of hiking.”

“Thanks,” I say, knowing I need the time to pull myself together, but hating to leave Paola alone with this crew. “Don’t take any shit from the jocks, okay? And radio if you need help. I can be there in five minutes.”

Her dark eyes flash as she smiles. “Don’t worry about me, hero. I can handle myself.”

She pats me affectionately on the back and starts toward the platform, having no idea she’s out in the middle of nowhere with three men who would be in prison right now if justice had been served.

I mop the sweat from my face with the bottom of my shirt, force a smile, and somehow manage to get all twenty-five people sent down the zip line without tossing any of the SBE brothers off the edge of the platform.

If an “accident” happens, it’s going to have to be when Todd and I are alone, and we haven’t reached the highest lines yet. This platform is only a hundred feet off the ground. That’s potentially survivable, and if I send the guy flying, I want to make sure he’s never going to be getting up after he hits the ground.

Once I’m alone, I sit down in the shade and close my eyes, centering myself, pushing away all the emotions tying my body in knots.

There is a time and a place for passion, but this isn’t it. I need to be calm, calculating, in control. If Sam can hold it together while she’s in the same space with these guys, I can, too. They’ve ripped my world apart, but they’ve never laid hands on me, and if they did, I’m strong enough to take on all three of them and come out on top. No matter how far women have come in the past century, it’s still far safer to be a man.

It makes me hope Sam and I have boys just so I don’t have to feel so damned scared for my kids all the time.

Just a few days ago, I was sure the dream of a family with Sam was dead and buried. But now, I can see a glimmer of hope in the future. Someday, when all this is over and Sam and I have both had time to heal, we’ll be settled and happy together. And eventually that happiness will get so big we’ll be ready to share it with someone else, someone who’s half her and half me and who we’ll love enough to make up for all the horrible things in the world.

We just have to make it to Wednesday morning and get on that plane and all things will be possible.

Focusing on the future, on that not-too-distant time when Todd will cease to exist for me and Sam, helps me ground myself. It doesn’t matter if he’s dead or just somewhere far, far away, he’ll only be a problem for three more days and I can do anything for three days. If I made it an entire year without knowing if I’d ever see Sam again—or if she were even alive—I can do this with one eye closed and my arms tied behind my back.

I pound a handful of almonds from my backpack, willing my stomach to settle, and wash them down with another swig of water.

By the time I hitch myself to the zip line, I’m nearly back to normal.

I take the ride, managing to enjoy the rush of the wind cooling my skin and the vibrant, wild, alive smell of the jungle rising up around me. At the end of the line, I trot down the steps and start up the trail toward the waterfall, knowing I’ll have time to catch them before they leave. I don’t feel like I need a rest anymore. I want to keep moving, keep my blood pumping and my body ready to respond at a moment’s notice. I’m not going to think, I’m going to act and trust that my gut will lead me in the right direction.