“Give me the sweater,” he said to Emma, hand out. “Then stand back.”
She tossed it to him, and he wrapped it around his fist, using it to punch out the rest of the glass, careful not to cut his bare feet on it.
Warm summer air wafted over his face, and on it, the sound of sirens, growing louder.
“No!” Harper roared, clearly having caught on to what was happening.
“Okay, Emma, time to go.”
She was both nodding and shaking her head. Not altogether convinced with this plan but not wanting to stay here either.
“The cops, my boyfriend, I can hear them coming,” Nic reassured her as he swiped at the thin trickle of blood by his hairline. He wiped his hands off on his pants and made a brace with his hands. “You’re going to put your foot here, I’ll boost you up and out, and you run to them.”
“What about you?”
“I’m a SEAL, I’ll be fine, sweetheart,” he said, even drawling a little like Cam did, hoping to put Emma more at ease. “But I need you to get to safety. And tell my boyfriend where I am, okay?”
She nodded, biting her bottom lip.
“Okay, on the count of three.”
“No, you can’t let her go!” Harper shouted, on their level now.
Nic glanced over his shoulder, seeing the other man running toward them. “Go, Emma! Now.”
Her eyes grew wide, seeing the bogeyman closing in on them, and she planted her foot in Nic’s hand. He heaved, tossing her through the window. Her bloody foot had just cleared the frame when a flash of metal caught the light in Nic’s periphery.
He ducked, spun, and righted himself as Harper came barreling at him again with a wrench. Nic shot up a hand, diverting the wrench Harper was trying to bring down on him, while lifting a leg and landing a kick to his stomach. Harper stumbled backward out of the tomb, and Nic advanced.
Out in the open, he heard the thunder of footsteps overhead. As did Harper.
He was trapped, and by that desperate gleam in his eye, foolish enough to think he could take Nic and use him as a hostage. Steadying himself, he gripped the wrench firmly and hurled himself at Nic. This time, with more room to maneuver, Nic grabbed his wrist, forced it out wide, and slid under his arm before yanking it back.
The wrench dropped from Harper’s hand, and Nic dropped him to the floor, knee in his back.
“Dominic!”
“Here, Boston!”
What sounded like an army barreled down the stairs, and it looked like it too, as agents and officers led by Matt and Di spread out around him, weapons trained on Harper.
A pair of cuffs appeared over his shoulder.
He wanted to look over it, to the dark eyes that he knew were scared and eager for him, but as soon as he did that, he was going to have to bear witness to something dying inside Cam. A hope that someone you cared for deeply was still out there, alive somewhere. Nic hoped that for Victoria and Garrett. A part of Cam still hoped that for Erin even though the bigger part of him knew it was unlikely. That bigger part was going to be proven right today. Nic wasn’t ready to bring that kind of pain down on Cam yet.
So he stalled. He took the cuffs from Cam, snapped them around Harper’s wrists, and heaved him up to standing. He handed Harper off to Matt, and Cam yanked him into his arms.
Nic hugged him back, not a care for the agents or officers around them.
Cam had said no more hiding, he seemed to mean that, and Nic didn’t want to hide either. But he did hide Cam’s view of the room behind him, grateful for the couple of extra inches he had on the other man right then. “Emma?” he asked.
“She’s safe.” Cam leaned back, wiping the cut at his hairline clean for him.
Fuck, he wanted to kiss him, then wanted to turn him around and walk out of this room. But he also wanted to bring Cam peace, and he was here to hold him through the pain of getting there.
“Dominic, what’s wrong?”
Nic cupped the side of his face with one hand and tangled the fingers of the other with Cam’s, squeezing hard. “I found Erin.”
