Page 85 of Protecting Bree
He sat, then pulled Bree into his arms, moving her carefully, aware that her ribs were sore. She put her head on his shoulder and relaxed into him.
Moving slowly, Smiley shifted around the bag he was carrying so it was sitting next to him. It was still slung over his chest, but now he could reach into it and pull out a bottle of water for Bree and some crackers. She gave him a grateful smile as she took them. He was encouraged by the fact that she could crack the seal of the water bottle by herself this time. She’d scared him when she didn’t have the strength to do such a small task earlier.
“How do you feel?” he asked softly, as she ate and drank.
“Better.”
“Give me a rundown of where you hurt,” he ordered.
“Smiley, I’m okay.”
“Not what I asked. I need to know your limitations, Bree.”
She sighed. “My side hurts. My eye. My feet. Walking helped work out some of the kinks I had from being scrunched inside that cage on the boat.”
“Can you talk about it? It might help.” As much as Smiley didn’t want to know what she’d been through, conversely, heneededto know.
“Honestly, there’s not much to tell. I assume Julie and Fiona told you how we got to Ensenada?” When he nodded, she continued. “I surprised them by leaping out of the back of that chicken truck. They were expecting theirbuddy, not me. I ran, hoping they’d all chase me, and they did. Giving Julie and Fiona a chance to get away. But it wasn’t fast enough. They caught me, beat me up, then I woke up on the boat, in another cage. I was pretty sure we were on our way here, to Ecuador, because I heard snippets of their conversation.
“I got seasick. Threw up a few times. The men didn’t want to be around me then, so they mostly stayed outside the small cabin. When I felt a little better, I pretended to still be sick because I didn’t want them getting any ideas about what they might do with me to pass the time. It worked. They left me alone. When we got to the dock, they took me out, handed me off to another guy, and as he was leading me toward a van—and probably another cage for a ride to the jungle—I punched him in the balls and ran. Then you found me…and here we are.”
It was a very abbreviated edition of the reality, but Smiley was more relieved than he could say that she’d managed to escape not once, but twice.
Then he remembered something.
Sitting forward a bit, he reached behind him to the holster at the small of his back. He pulled out the plastic knife she’d used in Ensenada to help Fiona and Julie escape, holding it up as he sat back.
Bree gasped. “Where did you get that?”
“Where do you think? It was on the ground outside that fucking chicken truck.”
There were still smears of reddish-brown stains on it, and now that he was looking at the thing, Smiley figured he probably should’ve just left it where he’d found it. Why did he think it was a good idea to keep it? Or to even bring it out now?
She reached for it and, ducking his chin, Smiley saw a small smile on her face. “Bree?”
“I can’t believe you found it.” She fingered the hilt. The hair she’d used to bind the material from Julie’s slip was fraying, but it still held. Bree looked up at him. “Can I keep it?”
Relief swam through Smiley. She wasn’t disgusted by seeing it, or by what she’d done out of necessity. “For the record…MacGyver was impressed.”
She blushed. “It’s notthatimpressive.”
“Are you kidding? It did its job. That’s all that matters, not what it looks like. The most effective weapons are sometimes the most random things you find around you. Not fancy guns or knives. I don’t have a sheath for you to put it in, and I don’t want you to hurt yourself by simply sticking it in your pocket. Would you be okay with me continuing to hold it for you?”
“Yes. Smiley? Can I ask you something?”
“You just did,” he joked, as he put the makeshift knife back into the holster at his back. Most people wouldn’t understand either of them wanting to keep something that could potentially bring back such horrific memories. But it was just another thing that proved Bree was made for him.
At his response, instead of smiling, Bree simply stared at him.
“What?”
“You made a joke.”
“Apparently not a very good one,” he said with a shrug.
“It’s just…you aren’t a joker. We’re going to die, aren’t we?”
She sounded completely serious. “No!” he barked, louder than he’d intended. Taking a deep breath to try tocontrol his emotions, he said a little softer. “No, we aren’t. If you think Kevlar and the rest of the guys are gonna let me off the team that easily, you’re wrong.”
