Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 68509 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68509 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
“Love you, Dad,” I said.
“Love you too, kid.”
I could hear the background noise fall away as my mother took me off of speaker.
“Okay. So, now that your father is gone,” she said, and I could hear the smile in her voice. “Should I be anticipating a grand baby after all that rainforest sex?”
“Mom!”
“Oh, come on. Any idiot could hear the affection in your voice when you talked about Wick. And it sounds like he saved your life a time or two. From, you know, the tree. And the… large beetles?” she asked, barely holding back a laugh.
“They were enormous. Anyway… no grand babies. I got the implant last year, remember?”
“So you have been sleeping with him.”
What use was there in lying? My mother would just see right through it.
“Yes.”
“You like him, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I admitted, hearing the rustling of bags outside the door.
“Love him?”
“I think so,” I said as the keycard beeped in the lock.
“Are you going to break my heart and move all the way to Ecuador to be with him?”
“I got—oh,” Wick broke off, seeing the phone in my hand.
“It’s my mom,” I told him.
“Hey, Lou,” he called, making my lips curve up. “I’ve heard a lot about you. Don’t worry, I will deliver your daughter back to the States, safe and sound.”
“I’ll be the one delivering you, remember?”
“You’re still going to turn him in?” my mother asked, horrified.
“She’s a heartless one, your daughter,” Wick teased, shooting a wink in my direction.
“He has… proof of his innocence. Well, some.”
“Well, while you two recover, why don’t you give me what you’ve got, and your father and I can see what else we can uncover? And the club, obviously.”
Yeah, that went without saying. My father’s biker club wasn’t just full of bikers with various skills, but their wives and children who were hackers and securities experts, and who had all sorts of shady backgrounds with shady connections in the criminal underbelly.
If anyone could link Wick’s uncle to a cartel money-laundering scheme, it was them.
And while they did that, I could stuff my face and sleep without worrying I might be shot. Or stung. Mauled. Crawled on by giant bugs.
“I will send everything over after we eat,” I said, smelling food wafting over to me, making my stomach growl. “I’ve had nothing but fruit for like a week. And no coffee.”
“And Wick is still alive?” my mom teased.
“Maybe not for much longer since I don’t see a coffee in his hands…”
“Okay. Go be with your man. But send me that info as soon as possible. I love you, kid.”
“Love you too, Mom,” I said, hanging up.
“I am not a monster,” Wick said, producing a large coffee. “Extra sweet. Lightly creamy.”
“Wait… how do you know that?”
“Because you told me. You spent one whole afternoon rambling off all your favorite foods and drinks that you would never take for granted again if you got out of the rainforest.”
And he remembered.
My heart felt like it squeezed.
“Thank you,” I said, reaching for it with two hands, pausing for just a quick sniff, then chugging half of it, mouth skin be damned. “Oh, God,” I moaned.
Wick’s look was a mix of amused and heated. “Never get sick of hearing you moan, duchess. But I’m a little jealous it’s over a cup of coffee…”
“I’ve had you the past week. The coffee, on the other hand…”
“Fair point,” he agreed, starting to put containers of food on the nightstand beside me. “Now, listen, we’re in Ecuador…”
“It’s not all fish, right? There are other dishes…”
“There are. But the closest I could get you to something you are used to is a variety of empanadas: chicken, beef, pork, and cheese ones. I opted out of the veggies,” he said, giving me a knowing smile. “They’re fried. So they can scratch that itch for fries and chicken fingers you have. I did also get some traditional dishes: Arroz con camarones—which is rice with shrimp, seco de pollo—a chicken stew, and sanduche de pernil—a pork sandwich.”
“Honestly, it all sounds amazing,” I told him, meaning it. After a week on a fruit diet, I wouldn’t turn my nose up at any solid food again without at least tasting it. I looked at the pile of to-go containers. “But what are you going to eat?” I teased.
“Not gonna lie, I ate a bunch of empanadas while I was getting everything else. But make sure you leave room for this,” he said, tossing an electrolyte drink at me. “We stayed hydrated, but likely screwed up our electrolyte balance,” he explained.
I tore into the food, shoveling it all in so fast that it was a miracle I tasted anything.
While I ate, Wick showed me some of the other things he’d picked up: clothes—for both of us—, personal care items, shoes, after-sun cream, multivitamins, antibiotic cream for all remaining scrapes, and beef jerky.