Page 38 of The Hero
“Right. Not the time or place, because I’m covered in Cambodian cow shit and who the hell knows what else, and I can’t hold you or kiss you. But don’t think I’ve forgotten our conversation from earlier. About our plans for tonight.”
“I haven’t either.”
“Good. Come on. Let’s get this done.”
He held out his hand, and Marlowe didn’t hesitate to take it with her own. There was a film of gunk on his skin, but she ignored it. His strong, warm hand was her anchor. With him by her side, she could do anything. Survive anything. They were a team. She’d never felt thatway about anyone in her life. Now she couldn’t imagine not waking up in this man’s arms every day. Not hearing his chuckle. Not seeing his smile. Not holding his hand.
She had no idea what the next few days would bring, but she prayed they were through the worst of their journey. That from here on out, things would be smooth sailing, and they’d soon be on a plane back to the United States. Kendric’s contact had gotten them this far—that last couple of traitors notwithstanding. She had to trust that things would continue to work out as planned.
Chapter Eight
Later that night, Bob sighed in frustration. The owner of the farm had expected them, but he wasn’t happy with the attention their illegal crossing of the border had brought to his doorstep. The Cambodian authorities had shown up shortly before Bob and Marlowe, inquiring if the man had seen two American fugitives from Thailand on his property. He said he hadn’t, and after a quick search of the premises, they’d gone on their way.
That meant Bob and Marlowe had to lie low for the evening before continuing their journey the next day. Which wasn’t any different from the preceding days ... except their situation seemed more dangerous now. It was even more risky to stay in one place for long. They were also still too close to the border for Bob’s comfort, but they needed to rest and regroup.
Marlowe needed shoes, and he was hurting from the fight. The knife-wielding security guard had made contact several times, and he had half a dozen shallow gashes in his arms that needed tending. His back was also throbbing. Bob knew exactly what had caused that particular pain.
That damn fence.
Marlowe had dug the prongs out of the ground and slipped under them without too many issues, but he hadn’t been so lucky. The rusty old metal had dug into his skin as he’d tried to squirm under the fence,gouging into his skin. Even without seeing the damage, Bob knew it wasn’t good—especially after falling into that disgusting canal.
But there was literally nothing he could do about his injuries. They wouldn’t stop him from making sure Marlowe was safe. Willis had arranged for them to fly out of Phnom Penh International Airport. It was the biggest airport in the country, and not too far from where Willis had contacts who would expedite them through security and get them to Tokyo, where they’d catch a plane back to the East Coast of the US.
They were currently in the farmer’s barn, in an empty stall between two others holding oxen, which the owner probably used to plow his fields. Instead of a hot shower, they’d been offered a hose on the side of the barn, but at least the water was cleaner than the muck he’d fallen into earlier.
He’d done his best to hose off thoroughly, knowing infection was a serious risk after his cuts were exposed to that canal. Once Marlowe had rinsed herself as well, the farmer gave them a bowl of fried rice to share, a sheet and two towels, and then quickly left the barn. It wasn’t the warmest welcome, but they were alive and together, so Bob was grateful.
He’d hung his shirt and pants over the edge of the stall to dry—as much as possible in the damp climate—and Marlowe had done the same. There was still plenty of light in the sky when she finally appeared in the entrance of the stall after using the hose to clean herself. At the sight of her, it was all Bob could do to remain sitting.
He’d spread the sheet out on a thick bed of hay and draped his towel over his lap. He made sure to keep his back to the wall, because the last thing he wanted was Marlowe freaking out over the ragged gouges. From what he could tell, blood still trickled slightly from the wounds, and he probably needed a few stitches, but that would have to wait.
For now, he wanted to hold Marlowe ... to show her how deep his feelings ran ... even if he couldn’t say the words. He refused to hold her back or make her feel obligated toward him if she didn’t feel the same.
“I ... this is a little weird,” she blurted as she stood uncertainly in front of him. She had the towel wrapped around her body, but Bob could still see a lot of leg and thigh. He swallowed hard and held out his hand.
He couldn’t help but feel pleased when she immediately came to him. He helped her sit, then reached for the bowl of rice. Scooping out a spoonful, he held it to her lips.
“I can do that.”
“And hold on to that towel in a death grip at the same time?” he asked with a small grin.
She rolled her eyes, shrugged, then leaned forward and opened her mouth.
He slipped the spoon between her lips and couldn’t take his eyes off them as her tongue came out and licked some of the grease that had been left behind on her lips.
“Good?” he asked.
“Honestly? Yeah. It’s delicious.”
“I’m always starving after an adrenaline rush,” he told her before spooning up another helping and holding it out to her. They shared the rice until they’d finished it all, and Bob put the bowl off to the side.
The animals in the barn shuffled around, making quiet noises. The fact that they were calm made Bob feel relatively safe. He lay back, ignoring the pain it caused his back and careful not to dislodge the towel from over his crotch, and held out his arm. “Come here, Punky.”
She moved into his arms as if she’d done it every day of her life, instead of merely the last few days. Her head rested on his shoulder, and when she adjusted her body to lie more comfortably, the towel around her slipped, allowing him to feel her bare skin against his own. He shivered.
Marlowe lifted her head. “Are you okay?”
“Actually, yeah. I’m perfect,” he told her.
