Chapter 18
Ryker’s hand pauses by my neck and mutters a word that confuses me.
“Wire.”
“That doesn’t sound good.”
“Could be an issue,” he murmurs close enough that his reply stirs my hair.
Exhaling slowly, he moves the screwdriver against the collar and I don’t even blink for fear of interrupting his concentration.
“I’m taking the camera cover off. You’ll hear a pop.”
Exactly as he says, there’s a small, plastic-sounding pop that might have made me flinch if he didn’t warn me.
“The wire is…” he trails off.
With a gusty exhale, he drops the screwdriver with a clang and grips my thigh. “It’s not connected to a fucking thing.”
He looks at the bunker’s ceiling, a sheen of sweat on his upper lip as he rasps, “Thank you. Thank god. Thank the universe. Thank every angel and whatever is out there.”
After gathering himself, he opens the collar more and removes it from my neck. As soon as it’s out of the way, he’s crushing me to his chest in a bear hug. Jostling the water bottle hard enough to spill, knocking the protein bar out of my hand.
His whole body shudders and his voice comes out tatted. “Fuck. Me. Fuck me.”
I didn’t know how tense I was until I’m not. It’s like a cork got pulled and all the pressure hisses out of me as I snuggle into him, pressing my face against his mud-caked chest. “You did it.”
“One down,” he says, rough voice as he turns my mouth toward his.
Ryker’s never kissed me like this. Groaning down my throat, moving so careful. So gentle it hurts.
Oh, heavens.
When he pulls back, I’m blinking through a wall of tears.
“Now mine,” he says, pressing the screwdriver into my hand. “You’re up, warrior princess.”
He wedges deeper between my thighs so I’m closer to the collar. Almost on eye-level with it. I like him here, really close, but it doesn’t stop a bad case of the nerves from hitting me.
“Tell me exactly what to do.”
As I frown in concentration, Ryker guides my hands to the right position. Together we work the screwdriver into the lock.
“You’ll see a small black plastic cover. Remove that. And there should be a wire there.”
“Got it.”
“Is it connected or loose?”
Leaning closer, I peer into the small opening.
“I’m not sure.” With nerves climbing through my stomach, I admit, “I don’t know, Ryker.”
“It’s okay. Tell me what you see.”
My throat is really dry when I try to speak. “A blue wire. It’s tight.”
“Blue not red,” he rumbles. “Not that wire color matters that much, because anyone could use any kind of wire. Is the wire running behind the camera?”
“Yes. It is.”
“Touch it. Carefully.”
Gulp. My throat is full of rocks. “Ryker. What if…”
“You’re going to use the pliers to cut the wire if it’s attached.”
He just killed a man to keep us safe. I can do this. I close my eyes. Steady myself. Open and close the pliers. Once. Twice.
“I’ll cut it,” I say, my voice sounding distant to my ears.
His hands brace against my hips, warm fingers pressed against the fabric he covered in mud.
I can do this.
“I never knew what love felt like,” I tell him, voice raspy, a pain in the center of my body. “It’s amazing.”
“Yes it is.” He looks me in the eyes. “This is not the end, Jade.”
God. I love how sure he sounds. A tear escapes against my will and he catches it with the calloused pad of his thumb.
“Okay. Okay. I’m good,” I breathe. “We need to get moving.”
The pliers glint in the light. I slip one side of the slender tool below the wire.
Three. Two. One.
Click.
“Oh, thank god.” I sag against him. “We didn’t blow up.”
He chuckles into my hair. “You’d make a great EOD team member.”
“What’s that?”
“People who diffuse and dispose of bombs.”
“No thank you.”
I’m truthfully about to pee myself, I was so freaking scared. But he’s already in motion, dragging me toward the shelf.
“Lose the dress. Put these on. I want your legs covered.”
He passes me a pair of heavy canvas pants. I shuck off my dress and catch him staring.
My face heats as I quickly shove one leg in, shoe and all. And do the second. The waist has to be rolled down twice and the cuffs rolled up.
When I put his T-shirt back on again he rumbles, “I’m sorry you’re caught in this bullshit.”
I tie the shirt in a knot, not looking away from his eyes. “We’ll just have to make more memories to drown this one out, okay?”
A powerful emotion overcomes his expression. Warmth. Maybe admiration? Whatever it is, the feeling slides right inside of me, heating up my heart.
God, I hope we live, because I want it all with Ryker.
“You got it. Next time you’re in my shirt, I want you at my house in nothing else,” his voice drops lower. “Sitting on the counter, distracting me while I cook breakfast for you after keeping you awake all night.”
My hands still as I picture his house. Feeling a tug in the center of my stomach I whisper, “I’d like that.”
Tearing his gaze away, Ryker clears his throat.
“I can’t think about that right now. We need supplies, toss some in that empty backpack. I’m gonna take care of those collars and try my damndest not to think about burning breakfast because I can’t keep my hands off you.”
Oof.
Apparently I can’t keep from thinking about that too. All my nerves sizzle. We’re in the middle of a freaking nightmare and my nipples are tingling.
Girl. Get a grip.
All business again, he moves to the barrels and pries off a lid. A horrible smell fills the bunker.
“Jesus,” Ryker mutters, screwing up his face as he pushes the collars into the muck with a broom handle. “That smell alone could kill someone.”
It’s horrid. Like someone died in that thing.
I’m still pinching my nose when he scoops up the backpack I’ve loaded with first-aid supplies, protein bars, and some small bottles of water. Effortlessly he hoists it onto the expanse of his shoulders.
I take a second to appreciate the sight of him.
The mud he used to camouflage himself makes every hard angle look meaner. Primal almost.
If he was hunting me, I’d be terrified. If we were alone without bets being placed on how long we’d live, I’d tackle him.
Thankfully before he catches me staring like a deranged person, he kills the light.
I can barely see him as he climbs out, surveying the terrain, listening in that way he does with his whole body.
Once he’s sure it’s clear, he calls me toward him with an extended hand.
My night vision is ruined again.
But I know what to expect now. A few moments, and I’ll start to adjust.
Ryker closes the lid carefully, and together we cover it with dirt, him showing me how to rough it up to look natural.
My energy is renewed, the camera and tracking collar being gone makes me feel as light as a bird.
But he swivels his head away from me, holding a hand up.
Stop.
Every nerve in my body fires at once. I swivel my head too, not breathing.
I don’t see what he sees, but a twig snaps. Really close.