Page 46 of Her Mercenary

The pants had multiple pockets down each leg, now filled with every sharp rock within reaching distance. The hip pocket hid my newly deformed hand—the one that made me feel weak. My other hand was wrapped around a pointed rock in a vise-like grip.

Roman Thieves was a man of many secrets, this much was evident. But for some reason, I knew in my gut that Roman wasn’t a danger to me. Something deep in my soul confirmed this. I had no fear toward him, but that didn’t mean I shouldn’t be prepared.

Roman pulled something from the pack, shifted his weight, and grabbed my ankle. This startled me, and I kicked instinctively, slamming my big toe dead center into his nose.

“Shit!” he bellowed, jerking back. “Holy—Jesus!” He scrunched his face, squeezing shut his eyes that were now streaming with tears.

“I’m sorry,” I said quickly, but with zero sincerity.

“Dammit, woman.” He bit out the words, swiping away the tears and checking the back of his hand for blood.

“I said I’m sorry.” I pulled my knees to my chest.

Squinting through the tears, he wiped his cheeks again, then held out his palm. “Give me your goddamn foot.”

“Why?”

“Listen—I’m not doing this with you right now. Trust me or don’t, I don’t give a shit, but make that decision right now. Either you trust me and do as I say, or you don’t, and I will let you to leave this cave right now.”

I blinked, staring back, unsure how to respond. There was no way I could survive in the jungle alone.

“Which is it?” he asked impatiently.

Slowly, I unfolded my leg.

Roman grabbed my ankle, then began tending to the wounds on the bottom of my bare feet from sprinting across the jungle floor. It hurt, it stung, it tickled, it turned me on.

My cheeks heated.

God, this man.

“They’re going to be sore,” he said, applying the final Band-Aid. “But you don’t need stitches.” Then he pulled ACE bandages from the pack and began wrapping each foot.

“They’re not sprained,” I said.

“Shoes,” he said. “This will have to do for now. My shoes are too big and will only trip you up. This will protect your feet enough during the day. We’ll take them off and let them dry out at night.”

At night ...

When he reached for the other leg, I instinctively jerked again, then winced. “Dammit. Sorry.”

Roman stared at me a moment, then seemed to decide something. He reached into the pack and tossed me a knife. “Here.”

I stared at the sheathed knife that had landed on my lap. It was a hunting knife of sorts, the kind you would gut an animal with.

“It’ll weigh less than those rocks you stuffed in your pockets when you thought I wasn’t watching. Do you know how to use it?”

“Yes.”

He peered up under his lashes, securing the bandages. “In a fight, I mean.”

“Oh. Uh, no.”

He nodded as if he’d expected this and was equally disappointed. “You understand, Samantha, that once the men realize you escaped, they’ll comb this jungle to find you. They won’t stop until they find and kill you. You’ve seen too many faces.”

My eyes rounded. I’d been so focused on escaping that I hadn’t considered that I would be hunted.

“They’ve probably already started searching,” he said, glancing over his shoulder.