“Fuck off.” He sags against the rocks.
There are a few inches of open space at the top, but not enough for me—or even the girls—to climb through.
“I hope they’re dead. Buried beneath the rocks. Emmanuelle and that vicious cunt of yours.”
Turning suddenly, I slam my fist into his nose. It crunches and he cries out, but the blood is more of a dripping faucet than a geyser as he passes out. He’s several pints low and sweating. There’s not much longer before he bleeds out.
I hope he lives long enough for me to kill him, but if not, so be it. My priority is getting to Arya and Avery and whoever else he’s got. I grab the rocks off the top of the pile and toss them behind me.
When I hear voices, my heart pounds.Arya?Then I realize they’re male and coming from behind me. Shane’s calling my name.
“Here,” I yell back, continuing to shift stone.
After a moment, I hear another voice. “Viking?”
My head jerks forward at the sound of Arya’s voice on the other side of the fallen rocks.
“Yeah, I’m here. Are you hurt?”
Shane reaches me with more voices trailing behind him. “Where is she?” Raising his voice, Shane calls out. “Avery?”
“Here. She’s here with me,” Arya yells back.
As more men arrive in the tunnel behind us, Shane and I haul debris off the top of the pile and cast it away to open a decent-sized hole.
He climbs up the pile, lies on the rubble, and thrusts his arms through. “Avery, baby, can your reach my hands? Climb up if you can.”
“Quiet,” I bark at the noisy men from law enforcement. “We’re trying to hear them.”
As the men fall silent, Arya’s voice can be heard again.
“You first, Avery,” she says. “Step in the crook of my arm.” There’s a pause. “Yeah, put it away. And go ahead. You won’t hurt me. I’ll lift you up.”
That’s my fucking warrior princess.
Once Avery’s head and shoulders appear, we lift her through.
Shane takes his coat off and puts it on her, zipping it up. “Are you hurt, baby?” he says urgently.
“No. Did you… catch him?” Her words are slightly garbled.
“No,” Shane says.
“Yes,” I correct.
Multiple heads turn as I point to the limp, dusty heap lying amongst the rubble near the wall.
“Dead?”
“I don’t know.” I shift more rock so I can get far enough through to grab Arya.
Her hands appear in the hole.
“What the fuck?” I growl, seeing metal cuffs around her wrists.
“Careful.” Avery’s voice is strange. Slow and drawling. “Sharp.”
A filthy piece of cloth creeps over the top of the rubble, guided by Arya’s hands, and then her head appears. Her hair is full of dust, and the amount of grime on her face causes me to grit my teeth.
