I reached the opening and dove inside, pain flaring again at the level of my injury as I twisted to get behind the protection of the doorframe. “I’m in! Close the door, Jax!”
Phaser shots blasted through the gap, and I huddled into the corner as the air lock lit up like a solar storm, direct hits exploding straight into it.
The new armored door whooshed shut, cutting off the barrage. All went suddenly dark and silent.
A red light flickered on. It meant no atmosphere.
“Tess?” Jaxon sounded so lost.
“I’m here, partner. I’m okay.” Or at least, I’d tell him that.
Breathing hard inside my helmet, I waited for the red light to turn green, indicating the repressurization of the air lock zone. If the hunters were still shooting at us, I didn’t feel it. Their small phaser wouldn’t do anything against my girl, not like the heavy artillery of a Dark Watch frigate.
The instant the light changed, I punched in the code and went through the safety door and into Jax’s arms.
He gripped me hard, locking me tightly against him and closing the door again with his other hand. In practically the same movement, he pressed a finger down on the com button to the bridge and yelled, “Jump, Fi!”
“I don’t know how to fly!” she cried back through the speaker.
“The blue button I showed you. Hit it! Now!” Jax let go of the com panel and swept me up against the wall, bracing us both.
Pressure clamped down on me, my bones crunched, darkness came and then ultimately went—a plunge into deep night before dawn broke again.
I shuddered, sagging against Jax.
And that was that. We were in Sector 8. I was home. Alive. Ready to help Coltin and the others as fast as we could.
I exhaled. I could hardly believe it. Yesterday already seemed like a lifetime ago, lived by somebody else.
A raw sound crawled up my throat, but I didn’t let it out. I wasn’t even sure what it was. Relief? Rage? Hope? Hurt? Everything was all jumbled up, and I couldn’t see straight, even in my head.
I struggled to find some sort of equilibrium, both emotional and physical, while Jax got my helmet off. Then we both tore at my suit. He pushed it down, and I shimmied out of the confining gear until I could step away from it in nothing but the tight, short undersuit. Blood wet my side. My bare calf was bitter red from cold.
Jax stared at me, horrified.
“It could have been worse.” I was trying to reassure him, but I just sounded like I was still terrified instead.
It was Jax who made a weird, strangled sound in the end. He pulled me in close, wrapping me in a fierce hug that was still gentle enough not to hurt. His arms were so big and warm, and I was shivering, inside and out.
His embrace was exactly what I needed. I let him gather me up, and I held him back, my arms around his waist. Jax sank down as though out of strength, his face twisting into something nearly unrecognizable as I curled up in his lap.
I felt like a child, and maybe he was getting exactly what he needed from me right then, too. Someone to comfort and protect. He rubbed my back, and I sucked down breaths that hiccupped in my throat. His voice low and deep, Jax crooned soft words he might have offered to the family he missed so much—to the wife, children, and sister ripped from him, their lives so brutally snuffed out.
He cradled me, and I turned my face into his broad chest, squeezing my eyes shut. My shoulders shook as I tried to hold back.
I couldn’t, and I lost it. I started crying in great, heaving sobs, blurting out, “I’m heartbroken, Jax.”
He stroked my hair, my back, holding me against his chest. “I know you are.”
“Why? Why did this happen?” He didn’t have answers, but I still asked.
“The galaxy is full of bad people. You deserve better. I’m so sorry you got hurt.”
“You were right.” I gripped his shirt, holding on to him like a lifeline and keeping my head buried under his chin. “I should have listened to you.”
“No, I wasn’t right.”
“Well, you sure weren’twrong,” I said, sobbing again.
