A deep ache wrenched through me as I looked across the shattered glass sea of the elevator at them. Jax would have held my hand. He would have let me comfort and help him. Why wouldn’t he give himself that from Fiona?
Because it’s not the same. My heart whispered the truth inside me. Jax was family to me. A little bit brother. A little bit father. A bit of everything, really. A hulking tower of strength, protection, and reassurance. A home that traveled with me. But I never looked at him like I wanted him to kiss me until I couldn’t breathe or think or feel anything but him around me, and that was exactly what scared the shit out of him with Fiona.
Jax’s previous life got burned to the ground, and he was so afraid of losing people again that he kept his distance from everyone except for me. I’d thought time might heal him. Or maybe Fiona. Maybe nothing could. Or maybe he’d snap awake one day and finally take a step forward.
Two hundred. Two hundred and one. Two hundred and two… I watched the numbers climb, my anxiety rising along with them.
“We’re almost there,” Shade told Merrick.
Freaking finally. But what happened when we arrived?
Shade took my uninjured hand in his and brushed his thumb across the inside of my wrist, a slow swipe that sent a shiver through me. “Stay safe. Stay with me.”
I nodded. “You too.” I squeezed his hand back.
A muscle flexed in his jaw. His mouth flattened, and he dropped my hand as we came up on the two hundred and fifties.
“What’s the status out there, Merrick?” Shade asked.
“Still surrounded. Four hovercrafts now—and some combat cruisers in the area, according to the radar.”
Shade swore. I winced. Fiona looked worriedly at Jaxon, who didn’t react. He stared straight ahead as though no one had spoken.
Fear churned in my gut. One-man fighter ships were bad news on the best of days, and today was already terrible.
I peeked at the digital display again. Just one more level. I braced for the doors to open, hoping Merrick had come up with a plan to get us out of the elevator.
The lights blinked out. The lift jerked to a standstill. My heart jackhammered in the darkness, and then an emergency light flickered on in the top corner.
“Merrick?” The others stood stock-still, all bathed in a faint orange glow and as wide-eyed as I was. “We stopped with one floor to go. What happened?”
“Power just went out in the whole tower,” he answered. “They shut it down. Can you get out through the ceiling?” Bang. Bang. Gunshots rang outside again.
We all studied the top of the elevator, taking stock of the person-sized emergency exit.
Shade turned to me. “On my back, starshine.” He cleared broken glass out of the way and bent down, bracing one knee and a hand against the bottom of the elevator.
“Fi’s smaller.” I pulled her over and helped her sit on Shade’s shoulders. She got her balance and he stood, putting her high enough to reach the safety hatch above us. Shade braced her legs with his arms, and Fiona yanked on the lever. It didn’t move. With a grunt, she pushed harder.
“I can’t…get it.” Grinding her teeth, Fiona put all her weight behind it. She shook her head. “It’s no good. I’m not strong enough.”
Fiona slid off Shade’s back, crushing glass into dust as she landed behind him. I was about to try when Jax nudged Shade aside and took his spot on one knee, his other leg bent and braced in front of him. He tapped his thigh and nodded. Without waiting for more of an invitation, Shade stepped onto Jax’s big thigh, reached up, and grabbed the lever. He pulled hard, and the seal broke with a suction pop of rubber. He flipped the hatch open, leaving a dark hole in the ceiling.
Shade hopped down and turned to Fiona. “Climb.” He lowered his center of gravity and laced his hands in front of him.
Jax stood and helped steady Fiona as she stepped onto Shade’s foothold, her hand on Jax’s shoulder for balance. Shade lifted as she reached up and grabbed the edges of the opening. He sent her partway through, and Fiona wiggled the rest of her way out of the hatch. On top of the elevator, she turned and reached for me.
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.”