“Stop.” The quiet word broke from Sydney. Her head was throbbing. For all of the times that she’d imagined Slade’s rescue, she’d never imagined this scenario. “Just...stop.” Then she was marching toward Slade. “He had to drag me out of the jungle. I almost died, too. He was shot, so many times, we were both barely moving.” Why couldn’t he understand what had happened?
Slade glared down at her. “You moved well enough to survive.”
Her chin lifted. “Search parties were sent after you. Again and again. We kept looking.”
“Not hard enough.”
The rage in him seemed to burn past any control.
“Get him out of here,” Logan ordered, giving a jerk of his head toward Cale. “Put him in the second villa, guard him and make sure he cools down.”
Cale put a hand on Slade’s shoulder.
Slade immediately jerked away from him. “Don’t believe me?” His voice rose. “None of you believe me? You think you can trust him? That I’m crazy?” He laughed again. The sound was rough and wild. “Then just...ask him.”
She glanced at Gunner. Logan had released him, and now Gunner stood as still as a statue. The white bandage was a stark contrast to his tanned skin.
“Ask him, Sydney. You do it,” Slade urged. “Because it’s all about you, right?”
“No, it isn’t.” The throbbing in her head was getting worse.
But Slade kept talking. This wasn’t the man she remembered. So much rage. “Ask him!” Slade yelled. “Ask him if he wanted you, even then.”
She stared at Gunner. His eyelashes lifted and his gaze held hers.
She couldn’t bring herself to ask the question.
“Take him out,” Logan ordered again.
“I saw the way you looked at her then. The way you look at her now! I was in the way!”
Cale pulled Slade toward the door.
Slade kept shouting. “You saw your chance, and you took it. You played hero to her, but you left me to die! You got just what you wanted—her!”
Sydney flinched.
“Tell her!” Slade was fighting against Cale’s hold. “Tell her the truth. She deserves it! We both do! Look at her. Look at Sydney and tell her how you felt about her...tell her about all the times you’d watch her when you didn’t think anyone saw.” His voice dropped. “But I saw. I always saw.”
His voice was ugly and mean and he was so far from the Slade that she’d remembered. Captivity could twist a man—or a woman—she knew that. It would take months, maybe even years of therapy before the Slade she knew returned.
If he ever did.
“I knew you wanted her, but she wanted me! She wasn’t going to you, not while I was there. So you got me out of the way.” Slade’s chest heaved.
She stared at him, seeing past the long hair and beard. His nose had been broken. She could see the rough bump along its bridge. There was a long, thin scar under his right eye. Another scar bisecting his left eyebrow. And that limp...
“Tell her!”
But Gunner wasn’t talking.
Cale had Slade near the entrance to the villa now, but all of a sudden, Slade stopped struggling. His cheeks were flushed dark red, his eyes glittered, but his body just froze.
Then he looked at Sydney. “Shouldn’t he be defending himself?” Now his voice was flat. From screaming to flat.
Sydney shivered.
“Shouldn’t he be trying to tell you that I’ve got it all wrong?” His voice seemed hoarse. “Why isn’t he talking?”