I did the same, using Shade as a stepping stool and Jax for balance. Fiona helped pull me through and someone pushed on my feet from below, making the climb easier.
I sat up and glanced around, trying to adjust my eyesight to the dimness. It was even darker in the shaft but just bright enough to see the ominous outlines of gears and wires pressing in on us. It reminded me of some of the tighter, darker mining tunnels below Hourglass Mile.
I burst out in goose bumps and looked over my shoulder, half expecting to see a guard with a whip looming over me, his arm cocked back, the threat obvious. But only the doors to our platform sneered down at me—a tight-lipped vertical barrier next to a rung ladder that ran the entire length of the elevator tube. There wasn’t a crack of daylight. Where was Merrick?
I swung my gaze back around and peered through the hatch. Shade was down on one knee and offering up his thigh as a step stool the way Jax had earlier.
“I’m too heavy,” Jax mumbled.
“Stop stalling.” Shade’s tone brooked no argument. He looked at Jax expectantly.
Irritation flared in Jax’s expression—the first sign of life in a while. Scowling, he set his foot on Shade’s thigh and hefted himself partway through the hatch. Fiona and I helped haul him the rest of the way up, although the men did most of the work on that one. We were all breathing hard by the time Shade jumped, grabbed the rim of the hole with both hands, and heaved himself up to join us.
He stood, taking my hand and tugging me up with him.
“Impressive.” The muscles in Shade’s arms and shoulders were something to look at. I’d admire them very thoroughly if we lived through this.
He leaned forward and kissed me. The quick, hard contact shot warmth from my lips to my toes. My hands curled in his shirt, holding on for a second. Our eyes locked and then Shade stepped back, checking on Jax and Fiona.
I checked on Merrick. “Hey, Big Guy, can you make it to the lift and pry the doors open? We’re climbing out of here.”
“Gimme a minute.” A door whooshed in the background. The sound of Merrick’s running feet reached us. “There are six elevator tubes. Which do I open?”
“Middle shaft, inner side,” I answered, gripping the cold metallic rung in front of me. Before I lifted my boot to the ladder, I glanced at Jaxon.
He rolled to his knees and staggered upright. The way he creaked told me every movement cost him. Running around and climbing and jumping definitely weren’t doctor recommended after taking a violent shocking.
My throat thick with worry, I turned back around and started climbing. “We’re on our way up, Merrick. Get ready.”
A harsh grunt chuffed over the audio connection followed by what sounded like ripping metal.
What in the galaxy?I frowned down at Shade. Through the shadows, his eyes met mine in mutual question.
“Merrick?” Shade followed me up the ladder.
“On my way.” Pounding feet. A door whooshed again. More gunfire.
“You go first, Fi.” Jax sounded so tired. I glanced down again, uneasy.
“Not a chance.” Fiona planted herself like one of her bushes. “You go first, or I’m not moving.”
Jax stuck out an arm and herded Fiona toward the ladder. She dug in her heels, skidding over the top of the elevator.
“Don’t be stubborn,” Jax grated. “Just go.”
“No,” she growled.
“Come on, Fi!” I snapped down at her. “Merrick’s coming. Let’s not give the Dark Watchmoretime to get into position to kill us.” At least four hovercrafts waited outside with armed soldiers just itching to shoot the blood and guts out of us. At this point, we only stood a chance because Merrick was a super soldier and Shade had wisely set explosives.
“If we’re all out, I’m afraid he’ll just sit down and give up!” Scowling, Fiona tried to shove Jax forward. “You first.”
“Quit it, or I’ll fucking carry you up,” Jax snarled.
“Fine.” She stepped right up to him, challenging Jax to do just that. They stood toe-to-toe, glaring at each other.
“Jax isn’t a quitter,” I said. “Now move it. Both of you.”
Unfortunately, a tiny part of me wondered if Fiona was right. Sometimes, when Jax shut down and got that misery-clouded far-off look in his eyes, I worried there was a chance he wouldn’t fight so hard to make it out of some bad situation the next time. I knew for a fact he would have walked straight into a toxic explosion seven years ago on Hourglass Mile if a terrified nineteen-year-old girl hadn’t literally been dumped on his head as a prison partner. Keeping me safe had kept him alive. But now, I had Shade in my corner. Would that make a difference to Jax?
