β
It is true. I did fall asleep at the wheel. We nearly went right off a cliff down into a gorge. But there were extenuating circumstances.β
Ian snickered. βAre you going to pull out the cry-baby card? He had a little bitty wound he forgot to tell us about, thatβs how small it was. Ever since he fell asleep heβs been trying to make us believe that contributed.β
βIt wasnβt little. I have a scar. A knife fight.β Sam was righteous about it.
βHe barely nicked you,β Ian sneered. βA tiny little slice that looked like a paper cut.β
Sam extended his arm to Azami so she could see the evidence of the two-inch line of white marring his darker skin. βI bled profusely. I was weak and we hadnβt slept in days.β
βProfusely?β Ian echoed. βHa! Two drops of blood is not profuse bleeding, Knight. We hadnβt slept in days, that much is true, but the rest . . .β He trailed off, shaking his head and rolling his eyes at Azami.
Azami examined the barely there scar. The knife hadnβt inflicted much damage, and Sam knew sheβd seen evidence of much worse wounds. βHad you been drinking?β she asked, her eyes wide with innocence. Those long lashes fanned her cheeks as she gaze at him until his heart tripped all over itself.
Sam groaned. βDonβt listen to him. I wasnβt drinking, but once we were pretty much in the middle of a hurricane in the South Pacific on a rescue mission and Ian here decides he has to go into this bar . . .β
βOh, no.β Ian burst out laughing. βYouβre not telling her that story.β
βYou did, man. He made us all go in there, with the dirtbag weβd rescued, by the way,β Sam told Azami. βWe had to climb out the windows and get on the roof at one point when the place flooded. I swear ther was a crocodile as big as a house coming right at us. We were running for our lives, laughing and trying to keep that idiot Frenchman alive.β
βYou said to throw him to the crocs,β Ian reminded.
βWhat was in the bar that you had to go in?β Azami asked, clearly puzzled.
βCrocodiles,β Sam and Ian said simultaneously. They both burst out laughing.
Azami shook her head. βYou two could be crazy. Are you making these stories up?β
βRyland wishes we made them up,β Sam said. βSeriously, weβre sneaking past this bar right in the middle of an enemy-occupied village and thereβs this sign on the bar that says swim with the crocs and if you survive, free drinks forever. The wind is howling and trees are bent almost double and weβre carrying the sack of shit . . . er . . . our prize because the dirtbag refuses to run even to save his own lifeββ
βThe man is seriously heavy,β Ian interrupted. βHe was kidnapped and held for ransom for two years. I guess he decided to cook for his captors so they wouldnβt treat him bad. He tried to hide in the closet when we came for him. He didnβt want to go out in the rain.β
βHe was the biggest pain in the ass you could imagine,β Sam continued, laughing at the memory. βHe squealed every time we slipped in the mud and went down.β
βThe river had flooded the village,β Sam added. βWe were walking through a couple of feet of water. Weβre all muddy and heβs wiggling and squeaking in a high-pitched voice and Ian spots this sign hanging on the bar.
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