Chapter 38
Metal sagged under Ivy.
Soft.
Like mud giving way.
“Ryder—”
The deck quivered under her boots, metal tearing like paper.
She jumped.
Missed.
For an instant their eyes locked.
The roar of the ocean intensified.
No—
Air sliced her face—
And she stopped.
The jolt wrenched her shoulder, robbing her of breath.
I’m hanging.
She looked up.
Face red, Ryder was flat on his belly, his body hanging over the edge. His hand was locked on her forearm, vise tight, his eyes on her. “I’ve got you.”
Below her, the ocean swirled, sucking, gasping.
“Ivy.” Veins bulged on his forehead.
“Ryder.” She clawed for purchase, scrabbling against the edge of the deck.
Nothing, only air.
The walkway behind her had vanished, twisted metal dangling into the void like broken teeth. When she looked down her feet were so small against the maw.
Ice penetrated every vein. She scrunched her eyes tight. His grip hurt, crushing her arm. So tight.
Ellie. He had to think of Ellie first. Had to let go.
“Ivy!’
She opened her eyes and fixated on the rough metal straight ahead, her breath coming in jagged bursts.
“Ivy. Eyes on me.”
She looked up. “I—”
Her gaze bounced, ricocheted off every sharp angle of the hellish rig hanging over her, waiting for her fall.
“Ivy!” His grip contracted, stopping all blood in her arm. “Don’t. Fucking. Look. Away.”
She was slipping. The combination of her blood and his sweat made it impossible to hold.
The pain in her arm was so bright and sharp—
“There’s a pipe.” He grunted with effort. “Below you, at the side.”
She looked down, spinning, trying not to hear his pained groan as he fought to hold her.
There.
“I see it.” She stretched her foot. Missed.
“I’m going to swing you. Get your weight on it.”
His arm shook. He couldn’t hold her much longer. His breathing hissed.
He swung her once. Twice, and her toe skimmed a ledge. Three times, and the toe of her boot hit the pipe.
She got one foot solid, then the other, taking the bulk of her weight off his arm. With her free hand she clutched cold metal, pressing its solidity into her cheekbone.
Adrenaline floored her. It was all she could do to perch on the inch deep ledge.
“Climb, Ivy.” He stretched out his free hand for her to grip. “Give me your other hand.”
There was another pipe two feet up. She lifted onto her tiptoes, reaching for it, and boosted herself to the next ledge.
Then another.
They were face to face now, breathing hard, their breath puffing in each other’s face.
“Now.” Sweat streaked his brow. “The deck edge.”
Her free hand came up, fingers scrabbling for the jagged edge of the deck where the walkway had torn away. The metal bit into her palm, rust and copper flooding her senses.
She ignored it. Pulled. Her arms screamed, muscles refusing.
Come on.
Ryder reached down, his hand locking on her waist. Together they hauled her over the edge, sharp metal shredding her coat.
A final pull and she tumbled onto the deck landing on top of him, gasping for air.
“Ivy. Fuck.” His hand grabbed the back of her head, crushing her to him, his face wet against her cheek.
Sudden weight landed on Ivy’s back—Jack, collapsing on top of her, sobbing.
“Ivy.” Her voice was muffled against Ivy’s shoulder. “You scared the shit out of me.”
Crushed between the two of them, she was barely able to breathe.
Didn’t care.
Hot tears scorched her face.
“Okay, enough emotion.” The weight lifted and Ryder released her. Jack was on her knees, wiping grime across her face, grinning like a lunatic despite the pain etched around her eyes. “You two are killing me.” She gave a half laugh and smiled, her teeth white in the gloom.
Ivy couldn’t stop shaking. The cold had burrowed so deep into her bones she wasn’t sure she’d ever be warm again.
Ryder pushed to his feet. His right arm hung at his side, useless.
When he tried to move it, his face went white. An involuntary sound tore from his throat that made Ivy’s stomach clench. Not good.
“Your shoulder?”
“Fine.” He shook his head.
“Liar.”
His smile was faint, but there was agony stamped on every line on his face. The shoulder he’d used to catch her, to hold her entire weight while she dangled sixty feet above the ocean—it was destroyed.
This man.
He’d risked everything to save her.
“We need to move.” He swayed once, caught himself. “Rig’s not going to last much longer.”
Jack struggled up with Ivy’s help, one arm clutching her side. The three of them stood there for a moment, battered and bloody and barely standing.
Then Ryder turned toward the access hatch. “Gantry’s at the bottom. We go down, radio Wyatt for pickup.”
Down meant the ladders. The same ladders he’d climbed to reach them. Ivy looked at his useless arm.
“Your arm?”
“I’ll manage.” He took hold of her hand and pulled her in to press a kiss to her forehead.
Jack limped to the hatch and together they moved in a slow convoy.
Ivy went first, testing each rung before putting her weight on it. Behind her, Ryder climbed one-handed, his injured arm pinned to his side. He couldn’t grip the rungs—instead he hooked his good arm through each rung, using his body weight to control the descent.
Every few rungs he’d stop, breathing hard, and she’d wait until he was ready to continue. Jack brought up the rear, moving like every breath cost her.
The rig’s death throes rent the air around them, metal shredding as supports gave way. Emergency lights flickered and extinguished. Ivy’s hands were so numb she couldn’t feel the rungs, and her legs were weak with exhaustion.
But they kept moving.
Down through the maze of corridors, through the strobing darkness. One ladder. Then another.
When they finally stumbled onto the lower gantry, Ivy’s legs gave out. She sat down hard on the wet metal and couldn’t make herself get back up.
Ryder reached for his radio one-handed, fumbling with the clip. “Wyatt, this is Ryder. Respond.”
Static.
He tried again. “Wyatt, do you copy?”
Nothing. Just the storm lashing around them and the empty dark where the boat should have been.
His eyes met Ivy’s across the gantry. His silence said everything.
This might be it.
The rig shuddered with a deep, bone-rattling vibration Ivy felt in her teeth. Above them, an explosion detonated and something massive tore free.
We’re out of time. She squeezed her eyes shut tight against hot tears.
At least we’re together. She reached for Ryder’s hand and struggled back to her feet.
Thump-thump-thump.
Faint through the wind.
A noise that didn’t belong to the storm.
“Is that—”
Ryder froze, head cocked, listening. “Jayhawk.”
A searchlight sliced through the sleet, a blistering-white cone cutting across the collapsing Vega. The helicopter came in low and fast, rotors beating the air into submission.
Ryder’s radio crackled to life. “Rescue Two inbound. Visual on three survivors.”
Ivy’s laugh came out half-sob as she clamped a hand to her mouth. “Oh my God.”
Her legs crumbled. She slid to her knees on the deck, head bowed, everything inside her finally letting go.
They’d come.
We’re going to live.
Ryder lifted the radio to his mouth. “Copy that, Rescue two. This is Ryder. Are we glad to see you. Three souls on deck. One with broken ribs and possible concussion, one hypothermic, one with shoulder trauma.”
The Jayhawk banked overhead, its downdraft turning the sleet into horizontal needles that stung Ivy’s face.
The response came through distorted but clear. “Copy that, Meyer. Henley’s on the hoist. Bishop’s got visual. Wyatt said you might need some help out here.”
Ryder’s throat worked and his head dropped for one heartbeat.
His crew.
The one that had brought her out to the rig when she first arrived.
The winch cable dropped, whipping in the wind. Ryder moved to intercept it, skilled despite his useless arm. He secured Jack first, showing her how to clip her harness where his injured arm was useless.
Secured, Jack grabbed his face with both hands and kissed him hard on the mouth. “Thank you.”
Then the cable lifted her, spinning away into the dark and the rotor wash until the helicopter swallowed her up.
The gantry lurched beneath Ivy’s feet.
Ryder grabbed her and keyed the radio. “Leg’s collapsing! Hurry.”
The cable spiraled down again, jolting in the wind. Ryder caught it and helped her clip the harness on, double-checking the connections.
“Hold on to me.” His voice was gruff in her ear as he clipped himself to her.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressed herself against his chest. “Not letting go.”
His good arm locked around her waist.
He signaled the hoist.
The cable snapped taut, yanking them into the air. They swung wildly and spun over open ocean, nothing below but the crash of hungry water.
Explosions boomed below, flames reflected off the dark water.
Ivy buried her face against Ryder’s neck and held on while they rose through sleet and smoke and the Vega’s death throes.
The helicopter bay door was open, hands reaching for them. Someone hauled them inside and the door slammed shut, cutting off the worst of the wind. But Ivy couldn’t hear anything except the roar and rush of blood in her ears.
Jack was strapped to the opposite bench with an oxygen mask, while a flight medic checked her vitals. She pulled a double thumbs up, her eyes crinkling behind the mask.
Ryder pulled Ivy close.
“You came for me.”
His forehead dropped to hers. “Always will.”
Through the window behind him, the rig folded into the dark sea. The flares went out one by one.
The helicopter banked hard, turning for home, and Ivy closed her eyes and let herself breathe.
He’d found her in the dark. Seen her when no one else had.