But his depth perception was shot and he missed his target. For a moment he wavered, his balance precarious. Mortifying images of his broken body sprawled out on the carpet below while Kira looked on propelled him to alter the direction of his fingers. At the last moment, he caught the support bar.
‘Fuck.’
‘You’re doing great,’ she said before the barbs of his self-flagellating thoughts could catch into his confidence and take hold.
But it was too late. His self-hatred had embedded its talons deep. His pride had done this. His pride and his ego. If only he had waited, if only he hadn’t been so selfish. If he had listened to his heart and not his head, he wouldn’t have risked their lives. They wouldn’t have lost Ben …
Kira’s hand was in his vision. In front of his single working eye was the hand of a woman that was his heart, his humanity. Her long fingers were relaxed, pointed his way. The offering so sincere and innocent that the grunt that caught in his throat had nothing to do with the ram-rods of pain that shot through his nervous system. She had worked so hard to get him here, to keep him breathing, see him healed, on his feet, and strong enough to climb this fucking ladder without aid.
His gut was a pit of aggressive vipers. His breath erratic. His heart nothing but thunder and lightning. That damn throb in his shoulder.
‘You can do it,’ she whispered.
He took a deep breath and held it. Calmed himself. He nuzzled her palm instead of taking the offered assistance. When he brushed his lips against her skin, she let out a sigh.
‘I’m good, sweetheart,’ he told her, because he was. He may be less of the man he was when he had left them in his search for retribution, but he could, would, scale the ladder to the surface.
When her hand retreated, he moved to climb the final rungs.
His head penetrated through the portal of steel, concrete, and timber flooring to emerge into the light. Once a ghost that courted death, he was now a physical being. A man in truth. Born through fire, pain and hurt, but one who could now contribute to the protection of the two people that he loved.
The room was as he remembered. The single change was to the bed which had been shifted to one side of the room. There was no need for secrecy now as so many came and went. Thick curtains embellished with faded green vines hampered the daylight, teak floorboards, robin-egg blue walls that remained crisp and flawless. The bedding on the mattress had been removed, a light coating of dust on its bare padding was the only sign that the room’s intention was to no longer support sleep.
That, and the gaping hole in the floor.
It smelt of lavender. It smelt of sunshine, goodness and life.
It smelt of Kira.
She was there, waiting with a smile so bright she lit up the dark room. Under the beauty of that smile, for a brief moment, the pain diminished. His hands didn’t involuntarily tremble from the strain. His shoulders expanded, his body lightened. In the line of that smile, Euan was whole.
His features twisted into something that likely resembled a grotesque grimace instead of an answering grin.
There was a grunt. From the corner, a shadow moved. Euan was already shifting, moving his body to pull himself up and out of the hatch in a useless attempt to protect Kira, when he saw him.
Nick.
The kick of adrenaline made his fingertips tingle. There was a wave of dizziness that associated the chill that gripped his limbs. He froze as the reality of Nick’s presence here, with them, sunk in. Euan couldn’t stop his gaze greedily eating up the man, devouring every scrap of lean muscle, hard line and rigid spine. Euan didn’t give one single fuck that Nick’s features were encased in stone, that the muscles in his cheek ticked, or that the eyes that he had missed more than the sun’s light were narrowed and wary.
None of it mattered. He was here, in the room, with him. With them.
So fucking close, he could almost touch him.
Christ.
‘I’m glad you’re here,’ he said. It came out hoarse, ragged, desperate. Euan cleared his throat.
Green eyes softened, the tight spine eased, but the clenched fists did not change. ‘Kira needed me.’
He tried not to wince, but his body reacted to the lance instinctively. The jerk caused him to lose his grip. The remorse that flashed across those hard eyes was almost worth the discomfort needed to snatch back his balance.
Kira’s gaze flickered between a healing man and irate companion that no longer spoke to him. Her tone suggested both remorse and agitation. ‘Nicky, can you help him out of the hatch?’
Euan’s response was immediate. ‘I’m not gonna say it again.’
He expected a flinch, instead, he received two raised white-blond eyebrows, a firm chin, and authoritative stare. ‘While you’re still under my care, you’ll do as you’re told.’ Her focus shifted to Nick. ‘Both of you.’
Euan didn’t want it, but without Nick’s help, this final push to get himself topside was going to be ugly. He lacked any finesse. His limited vision, a busted shoulder and fucked-up feet were more than a hindrance, they were a blockade. But he was determined to see daylight, and maybe somehow talk to Nick. He licked his lips and looked to the timber flooring for purchase in order to heave his wasted body up over the lip.
A masculine hand appeared before him. Golden fingers were stretched wide open, as if Nick had to force his muscles from creating the fist they craved to form. Euan’s gaze lifted, and green eyes held his. Beautiful. So fucking beautiful. He couldn’t look away, trapped by chains made of jade, his heart jerked, and his lips stretched into an instinctive twisted smile.
But Nick’s mouth remained firm, his features impassive and Euan’s attempt at a grin faded.
He
