Defeat the Darkness (Hearts of Darkness) (4 page)

“He’s not my competition. He’s my friend and yours. I understand why your mother wants you two together. He’d be good for you if he ever decided to settle down.”

“Or… What are you saying? If you weren’t in the picture?”

He kissed her eyes. “But I am. And I plan to stay in the picture. Max surrendered by default years ago. So tell your mother to give up. The north won. You’re mine.”

“I didn’t surrender,” Max said as he rounded the corner table. He eyed his two best friends suspiciously. “I’m waiting for the woman to come to her senses.”

He scooped Shelby up into a bearlike embrace and kissed her. God she tasted amazing, especially when she enthusiastically kissed him back.

“Not b
ad, huh?” he asked and then sat down in the empty chair between them.

“No. You’ve never been a slouch in the kissing department
. If I remember correctly,
sticking
was your problem.” Shelby pecked him on the lips for good measure while Kyle grinned.

Max clutched his chest. “Give me a break, Shelby. I was seventeen.”

“Too late. She’s marrying me.”

“You had your chance.” Shelby held out her hand and
wiggled her ring finger, teasing. “I was totally infatuated with you in tenth grade.”

“What? Getting married? Aren’t you on your way out of town tomorrow, Boston?” Max acted surprised.

Kyle nodded. “But I’m coming back.”

“I guess she said ‘yes’. Your smile is so bright it looks like someone shoved a light up your ass, buddy. Personally, I think it’s a dumb move to leave her. I don’t know how you can do it.”

“Yeah. Yeah. You’re just jealous.”

“Why? You’re leaving me the opening I’ve been waiting for since she met you.” Max flicked a finger under Shelby’s chin. “Wait ’til you see what I have planned as soon as we get rid of him.”

“Stop it, both of you.” Unshed tears filled Shelby’s eyes and Max felt her pain. She didn’t cry often, but when she did, it wrenched his heart out of his chest just to watch. “I don’t want to think about it.” She picked up her glass, blinked several times, and sipped.

“Sorry, sweetheart. I
was just teasing.” Max reached for her hand. “Show me this ring I’ve heard so much about.” He nodded his head in Kyle’s direction. “He hasn’t shut up about it since he upgraded.”

“Mamma’s gonna love it.” Shelby wiped her eyes with the back of her wrist and thrust out her hand. “Don’t you think it’s beautiful?”

“You are beautiful, and it suits my favorite girl.” Max gave her fingers a squeeze. “Nice choice, Kyle.” He held out his hand. “Congratulations, buddy. Gotta hand it to you. You sure know how to pick ’em.”

Which did he mean? The ring or Shelby. He wasn’t sure himself. A knot caught in his throat and he tried to swallow it away, wondering why he let her go—why he hadn’t made the move on her himself. She was right. He’d had his chance and not just back when they were teens. A few times since then, too. Their timing had always been off.

Had he lost his old best friend to his new best friend? He wondered if they would have room for him in their future? God, he hoped so. He couldn’t imagine life without either of them.

“I’m ordering Champagne. We’re celebrating tonight, and if you’re too drunk to make the plane i
n the morning.” He shrugged and winked at Shelby, “we’ll tell them we kidnapped him. How many bars do you think there are on Bourbon Street?”

“Are we going to find out?” Shelby truly smiled for the first time since he joined them, and Kyle laughed.

“You two will end up sleeping in, and I’ll be nursing a hangover forty-two thousand feet in the air.”

“Nah,” Shelby kissed him. “We’ll take you to the airport…and then go back to bed.”

“Witch.”

“You can still back out.”

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 2 Mudslide

Guatemala, two months later

Mud caked everyone and everything. Outside the tent, rain continued drizzling, a steady incessant catalyst to the mud and the tragedies. On the stretcher, all Kyle could see was the limp body of the little boy who was broken and would more than likely die.

“Breathe dammit, breathe.” Kyle refused to lose one more soul today. He’d already faced death and lost too many since he’d been here—this one was going to make it. He disconnected the ventilator and waited. “What’s his name?”

“Tomas. Tomas Ramirez.” A teenage boy across the room spoke up.

“Looks like suctioning the airway worked, doctor. His breathing is more regular, and his pulse is strengthening,” said one of the faceless volunteers from behind the mask.

Kyle lightly patted Tomas’ fragile hand. “Way to go champ.”

The small boy on the gurney looked to be about six, maybe seven at most. His mother prayed quietly by his side, chanting and rocking a tiny little girl in her lap. The child was beautiful with soulful black eyes and ebony hair. Julian, the teen who’d answered his earlier question, watched Kyle through hooded pale brown eyes from a face full of expectation. He followed every move Kyle made, finally relaxing his shoulders when Kyle exhaled.

He removed his mask and took a deep breath, peeled off his gloves, and walked outside. Kyle hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath while he suctioned the boy’s airway, not until the pain shook him. Outside, he welcomed the humidity for a change. Although it soothed his parched lungs, the hot damp air was far from refreshing but better than the heavy antiseptic scents mixed with mud smells inside the makeshift OR.

The warm rain washed over him, and he scrubbed his hands down his face, inhaling deeply to clear the scent of death from his lungs.

He
thanked God the child survived, at least for the moment. It would be touch and go for a day or two. They would worry about pneumonia and a thousand other things—later. Today, they’d won the battle.

Lately, every d
ay was a day just like this one. Failure after failure, loss after loss. Then there’d be one shining moment in the chaos to make it all worthwhile, one ray of hope to keep the team of doctors and volunteers going on the next day.

Maybe later he’d email Shelby and try to express the elation he felt defying death when so much surrounded him. Especially against such overwhelming odds. For now, he
thought about making notes and one day turning them into a journal of sorts. Maybe he’d write a book, influence more people to volunteer. He patted his pocket. Yes, he had the notepad and the pen.

The rain turned into heavy wet air. Slow, tentative sucking steps in the mud behind him made him pause. As Kyle turned around, Julian stopped at a respectful distance. The teen politely waited for permission to approach. Kyle wasn’t used to the reverent treatment his team received here. He reached in his pocket, pulled out a power bar, and offered it to the young man. “Here, have one.”

Julian shook his head and came closer. He stood straight and held out his hand to shake Kyle’s. “Thank you for saving my brother,” he said in heavily accented English.

Kyle returned the boy’s formal but sincere handshake with a dire warning, “Don’t get your hopes up. Tomas is not better yet.”

The boy nodded. “I understand, but you try.”

“Here take this. Have a seat and join me.” Kyle pulled another power bar out of his pocket and sat down on a stone bench nearby. This time the boy took his offering. “Your name is Julian, right?”

The boy nodded, with his eyes opened wide with surprise.

“I’ve heard good things about you. I understand you’re the one who takes care of us and our needs when the system breaks down.”

The boy’s lips twitched, but his shoulders straightened. He sat down and took the bar. “I know ways around the…system. No one notices a boy.” He smiled broadly.

Kyle patted the kid on the back and chuckled. “I’m proud to have a friend like you.”

“Yes,
friends
. I will help whenever you need.” He held out his hand again, this time to shake on it.

“Dr. Lachl
an, if you please. There’s a chest wound I need you to look at over here—” The male voice bellowed out of the mist.

“Coming, doctor.” Kyle sighed and hefted himself up like an old man. Victor Salazar had to be at least twenty years older, looked under forty, and had the strength and stamina of a much younger man. Kyle wondered how he managed. His own ass was dragging after twenty hours without sleep.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 3 The Directress

“I have to go.” He patted Julian on the back. “Friends. Remember. If you need me, come get me. Keep watch over your family for now. Deal?”

“Deal.” The young man beamed with a huge grin painted across his face until h
e glanced over Kyle’s shoulder.

His expression went dark.

Kyle turned to see what or who turned the boy’s face so grim and noticed a woman dressed all in black silk. Her loose top draped over a long flowing skirt. The material seemed light enough for the climate, but the color blended into the shadows. Although she looked totally out of place in the muddy camp, she appeared comfortable in her skin.

“Strange. I haven’t seen her
around, before. Who is she?” he asked, in almost a whisper, not really directing his question at anyone.

“The directress. She is in charge of the charity that brings the doctors here. I must go. She is
mal noir,
dark evil. Do not look into her eyes.” Julian warned with a hiss over his shoulder. He ran off into the jungle and left Kyle alone.

“Hey, Julian, be careful.”

How safe would the boy be out there? He dismissed his unease recalling the kid was a natural survivor, native to these jungles. Yet there had been rumors of jaguars hunting closer to the village since the earthquake and the mudslides, so a niggling worry remained. Between the rodents, snakes, and bugs, Kyle had enough wildlife right here in camp to handle without worrying about large jungle cats beyond the perimeter.

He rapidly walked toward the triage unit, glancing at the woman who’d stopped and watched him from a distance. He briefly
thought the woman looked too perfect. Out of place. Overdressed. There wasn’t a raven black hair out of place in the swirled knots on top of her head. Not a bead of perspiration lingered on her upper lip, nor was there a spot of heated color tingeing her pale white cheeks.

Kyle knew for certain, if she’d been here in the village before, he would have noticed. Hell, a male would have to be blind
or half-comatose not to notice her around camp. An odd mingling of lust and revulsion sent icy cold fingers up his spine and a hot tight grip around his dick. It didn’t feel right.

Kyle shook off the infatuation, more concerned than aroused when a rat scurried past his foot. Someone needed to stop the damned rodents from eating the provisions in the storage building before they took over the camp. The last thing the camp needed was the plague. He’d seen rat problems in Boston and New Orleans. Too bad the rats’ natural enemies weren’t doing their job.

He felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. The directress had turned her eyes away from Julian’s retreating form to stare back in Kyle’s direction. His pulse instantly picked up a beat as he met her swirling silver eyes.

For the second time, a shot of desire drove through him as he drowned in the woman’s gaze. She was beautiful enough to suck the breath out of any living male, and Kyle was no exception. His erection stirred back to life.

This was crazy. The days were long and grueling. Usually he was too tired and emotionally drained to think about anything besides the priorities—food and bug spray. A bath and clean clothes were necessities for sanitation purposes, but sleep—sleep was a luxury he’d trade his next meal for. Sex, even the idea of masturbating, seemed like too much effort most nights. Even if he’d never been celibate this long, he knew how to take care of himself. The few times he found the energy, he imagined Shelby when he did.

What was wrong with him? How did he even have the energy to lust after the first attractive woman he’d run across since he’d been here. He loved Shelby. He didn’t
want this.

Nevertheless, the dark force affected him, aroused him. Albeit in a surreal way. Something about her made him think of down
and dirty, take it to the mat, sex. He hardened when her eyes traveled to the bulge in his pants as if she knew. His erection quickly responded, lengthening, and a small amount of liquid seeped to the surface in anticipation.

A tight sensation, an unclean feeling like a hand moving up and down his shaft, made him want to vomit, as he stood transfixed, locked in place. The sensation behind his balls became an unbearable pressure, and he knew he was going to come like a middle-schooler while the woman watched. His lungs constricted as his orgasm threatened, and he tore his gaze from the bitch in black before he came standing in the middle of the compound, alone, with the dark essence of the woman focused on his soul.

Her eyes seduced him, coerced him. He’d been forced to respond to her and raped by her mind.

This is nuts. Crazy!

Julian was right. There was something sinister about her pale, exquisite perfection that shot right through him. He understood why the boy ran, but he had a job to do.

He shook off the experience and forced himself to move.

An intelligent grown man could hardly bolt at the sight of a beautiful woman, even if she did unnerve him to the core with her hypnotic stare and latent sexuality.

Perhaps his own reaction was what bothered him. The feeling of betrayal. The guilt for reacting to a woman he didn’t even know. He forced himself to think of Shelby, but he couldn’t get the directress out of his mind.

He was just horny. That’s all. Almost satisfied with his own explanation for his peculiar reaction, he nodded politely without meeting her eyes.

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