Exhaling slowly, he moves the screwdriver against the collar and I don’t even blink for fear of interrupting his concentration.
“I’m taking the camera cover off. You’ll hear a pop.”
Exactly as he says, there’s a small, plastic-sounding pop that might have made me flinch if he didn’t warn me.
“The wire is…” he trails off.
With a gusty exhale, he drops the screwdriver with a clang and grips my thigh. “It’s not connected to a fucking thing.”
He looks at the bunker’s ceiling, a sheen of sweat on his upper lip as he rasps, “Thank you. Thank god. Thank the universe. Thank every angel and whatever is out there.”
After gathering himself, he opens the collar more and removes it from my neck. As soon as it’s out of the way, he’s crushing me to his chest in a bear hug. Jostling the water bottle hard enough to spill, knocking the protein bar out of my hand.
His whole body shudders and his voice comes out tatted. “Fuck. Me. Fuck me.”
I didn’t know how tense I was until I’m not. It’s like a cork got pulled and all the pressure hisses out of me as I snuggle into him, pressing my face against his mud-caked chest. “You did it.”
“One down,” he says, rough voice as he turns my mouth toward his.
Ryker’s never kissed me like this. Groaning down my throat, moving so careful. So gentle it hurts.
Oh, heavens.
When he pulls back, I’m blinking through a wall of tears.
“Now mine,” he says, pressing the screwdriver into my hand. “You’re up, warrior princess.”
He wedges deeper between my thighs so I’m closer to the collar. Almost on eye-level with it. I like him here, really close, but it doesn’t stop a bad case of the nerves from hitting me.
“Tell meexactlywhat to do.”
As I frown in concentration, Ryker guides my hands to the right position. Together we work the screwdriver into the lock.
“You’ll see a small black plastic cover. Remove that. And there should be a wire there.”
“Got it.”
“Is it connected or loose?”
Leaning closer, I peer into the small opening.
“I’m not sure.” With nerves climbing through my stomach, I admit, “I don’t know, Ryker.”
“It’s okay. Tell me what you see.”
My throat is really dry when I try to speak. “A blue wire. It’s tight.”
“Blue not red,” he rumbles. “Not that wire color matters that much, because anyone could use any kind of wire. Is the wire running behind the camera?”
“Yes. It is.”
“Touch it. Carefully.”
Gulp. My throat is full of rocks. “Ryker. What if…”
“You’re going to use the pliers to cut the wire if it’s attached.”
He just killed a man to keep us safe. I can do this. I close my eyes. Steady myself. Open and close the pliers. Once. Twice.
