Chapter Two
Nick was here.
The sight of him unhinged her, left her chest tight and her heart racing. Someone she knew. In the beginning, it consumed her thoughts, hoping that someone would come. After awhile, she’d stopped hoping. It was too painful.
But he was here, in her doorway, as big and imposing as ever. After all this time.
Kitty touched her index finger to her lips, the universal sign to be silent. She motioned to the corner, where the camera was mounted. Nick nodded, the smile leaving his face. He closed the door. The only illumination that remained in the room trickled through the miniscule window at the top of the door.
She’d been honest. He wasn’t who she expected to come, if she’d expected anyone at all. Not that she was picky. She’d take whatever rescuer she could get.
In the dim light, he tapped the side of his head, pointed two fingers at his eyes, then at her. He wanted her to listen to him. That made sense. Then at least one of them didn’t have to speak.
He shuffled backward into the corner, under the camera so they couldn’t see him, and he walked her through their escape.
We’ll climb through the ducts to get out of the building. I’ve memorized the ventilation layout. He glanced above her door, at the air vent. Damn. That one’s too small, though. We can’t get in that thing. It will have to be the vent opening in the janitor’s closet, then. The vent there was apparently bigger, but his thoughts told her he hated to risk her being out in the open on the way there. It’s the only option.
She nodded to let him know she understood.
Offhand, his focus turned to her and worry laced through him. She’s lost weight. She’s too thin.
At that, she lifted her chin, defiant. Three months ago, she might have shrunken from that assessment, back when her father’s disapproval of her appearance still rang in her ears. But not now. She’d survived. It hadn’t been pretty, but she’d survived. That was good enough.
And no shoes. Not good. How am I going to get her out of here with no shoes?
She wiggled her toes, took in the rest of her outfit. She wore an orange jumpsuit and a pair of dark blue socks with rubber treads on them, the kind her mom had worn at the hospital when she’d had her gall bladder removed. Nick couldn’t see them, but the ensemble also included a pair of standard-issue, size-too-large panties. No bra. Every two days, someone came and dropped off another sterile packet containing a clean version of the same outfit. She was allotted fifteen minutes to shower and change into it.
This wasn’t ideal escape attire. And no shoes would definitely be a detriment.
The bed. His gaze took in the only furniture in the room. It was a cot, not a real bed. When she arrived, she’d been given two flat sheets and a thin blanket to dress it. She’d used one as a fitted sheet, tucking it under her mattress, and she’d pulled the other over her. The blanket was folded neatly at the foot of the bed.
He ran through a whole range of tourniquets he could tie. Tourniquets? She might be thin, but she wasn’t hurt.
That might work. Decided, he yanked the sheet off the bed and, gripping the corner, ripped a strip along the edge. The sound startled her, even though she’d known what he would do. She’d become too accustomed to her own silence.
As he tore another strip, she watched the fascinating play of his forearm muscles, bare below his rolled sleeves. He must be in marvelous shape, if he could do something like that so easily.
When she glanced up, his eyebrows were high, the two strips of fabric in his hands.
He’d caught her staring. Thank goodness for the darkness. Maybe it hid her flush.
Obviously he would be in good shape. He was an elite Special Forces soldier. Men like him, they were fit, and fit men were good-looking. That was all.
Nick motioned for her to sit on the cot, and her face heated further. Having him see her bed, the place she’d slept for a month…it felt weird. More, it was him. He was so big, and he had such an air of authority about him. Add in the attractive part and… It made her uncomfortable.
Not that she found him attractive.
He wanted to wrap her feet. She shook her head. “Treads are better until we’re outside,” she whispered.
He nodded. True. He wound the strips into a ball and tucked them into his pocket. You ready, then?
Was he really asking? This place was her dungeon. She opened the door, but he gently pushed past her. He looked out, his mind full of protection. Then, he slipped through first.
That’s right. She rolled her eyes. She’d forgotten who he was. This was Nick, the one who wanted to save the day.
But though she desperately wanted to go, she hesitated at the doorway.
What was the matter with her? This room contained the worst month of her life. Yet, walking into the hall seemed more dangerous.
She shook her head. That was stupid. She couldn’t stay, didn’t want to stay. She forced herself to step forward, into the garish fluorescent light of the hallway. She blinked, disoriented by the sudden brightness.
Fast, he thought to her. We need to move. Try to keep up. Even his mental tone was bossy.
She nodded. As he set off down the hall, and she followed as close as she could, she couldn’t help scowling at his back.
She’d only met Nick once. They’d had one conversation, when he’d tried to warn her away from his roommate, Jeremy. She’d taken offense. After spending her entire life under her parents’ thumb, she hated being told what to do. His little chat had been the last straw. She could manage herself. She’d told him as much.
Turned out, she hadn’t managed herself well after all.
His roommate, Jeremy, had turned her over to Goldstone, the company that had funded Fields’s research. Dr. Fields had stolen her back. She ended up here because she trusted Jeremy.
No, she ended up here because she trusted herself.
No time for that. For now, she and Nick could work together. They wanted the same thing: to get out of here.
They passed the guard, slumped over at his desk. Nick fingered his pocket, thinking about the tranquilizer gun there. Poor Leon had met the wrong end of that weapon.
He peeked around the corner before gesturing her to follow. They hurried into the empty hallway, his eyes scanning ahead, hers watching behind, all while listening around them.
They made it past three doors before she heard the guards in her head, coming toward them.
She tugged on Nick’s sleeve, and he stopped, his brow furrowed in a question. She pointed ahead of them and held up two fingers. Times like this she wished everyone could hear thoughts like her.
That’s when the sound of the guards’ voices carried to them.
Nick’s eyes flared in understanding. Before she saw him move, Nick yanked her into the nearest open door.
A moment later, she was backed up against a wall of shelves stacked with linens. She barely registered where she was—a closet, maybe—before Nick pressed against her. They touched from knee to chest, miles of male body pushed against hers. He anchored an arm on each side of her head.
Her damn orange jumpsuit is too bright. He shifted closer, curving himself around her, doing his best to hide her.
He was taller than she was, by at least six inches, and covered in acres of muscle. He didn’t only conceal her; he swallowed her up.
It wasn’t an embrace. Not that she knew much about embraces from men. But embraces were full of emotion, weren’t they? They meant something—attraction or affection. This wasn’t even a hug. Mostly, he created a cocoon around her. A shield. But it was the first real physical contact she’d had with anyone in months. Maybe longer.
The men in the hall passed. Their voices drifted in the open door. “He fell asleep, I bet. Not the first time. Leon…that dude’s going to get himself fired.”
The other guy snorted. “How hard is it to do that job? You sit there, read a magazine, and stay awake. Not hard.”
“Yeah, man. What a loser.”
They chuckled, maligning poor unconscious Leon further as they trudged down the hall.
Nick stayed where he was, though, after their voices faded. Kitty’s eyes flickered around the room, at the metal shelving, the tidy rows of toiletries. Anywhere but at the expanse of warm male body in front of her.
“They’re gone.” Her voice sounded breathy, like she’d been running or something.
He dropped his head. “Yeah. I was listening for more.” His lips were next to her cheek, close enough that his response floated over her skin, making gooseflesh lift on her neck.
It was too much. He was big, completely overwhelming. “You don’t have to listen. I can hear everything. Remember?” She turned her head, trying to meet his gaze.
Except the shift brought his mouth closer to hers. She hadn’t noticed he had such full lips the last time they met. When her eyes met his, he was searching her face.
Her eyes are pale. Really pale. He seemed surprised. She glanced away.
What was going on? She pressed her palms against his chest. “We need to go. They’re going to figure out that Leon’s tranked in a second.”
“Right.” He pushed away from her, shaking his head a little. What’s the matter with me? Focus, Degrassi. “Is there anyone else around?”
She checked. “No. We’re clear.”
“Follow me.”
She caught his sleeve. “No. You follow me.” She tapped her temple. “I’m better at this than you are.”
That made him scowl. Nick Degrassi didn’t like to be any less than the best. As it had been a long time since she had felt like she was better than anyone at anything, she smiled.
“Then let’s go.” He swept his arm ahead of him, as if ushering her out of the closet. “After you.”
Still smiling, she saluted. But, approaching the door, she paused.
She didn’t hear anyone. No one was nearby, yet she hesitated. She’d never been in charge. Not of anything. She’d never even been asked to choose a team in gym class. What if she did it wrong?
She shook her head. It had to be her. She was the right choice to go first. Time to get on with it, because the guards would be after them soon.
She squared her shoulders, checked again for anyone nearby. It was nighttime, so most of the people who lived at the complex were in their barracks, located in the adjacent building. The hallway was empty, and she only sensed three other people, a hallway away.
Go left. Nick’s voice drifted into her mind. She nodded.
Even when he wasn’t in the lead, Nick didn’t follow well.
They hurried through the halls, weaving their way until she had completely lost track of where they were going. She moved as fast as she could, as quietly as she could. A few minutes later, a shout drifted from the holding unit.
They knew.
She hazarded a glance at Nick and nodded.
We have to go faster, came his immediate thought. It’s a left ahead, then two doors on the right.
She slid around the corner, running outright, not caring how much noise they made. Her heart beat loudly in her ears and the exertion made her pant, gasping for air. She hadn’t run anywhere in months. As they pounded down the last hallway, the alarms sounded. The siren wailed and blue lights flashed from two different points in the corridor. She skidded to a stop, covering her ears.
Don’t stop. Nick grabbed her on his way by, throwing open the door to their destination, a janitor’s closet. He pushed her inside and closed the door.
“Anyone coming?” he asked, as he jumped on top of an overturned utility bucket that had been positioned in the center of the tiny space.
“They’re figuring it out.” She closed her eyes and pressed her fingers to her temples, trying to expel the ache there as she sifted through dozens of thoughts in the immediate area. “But they’re going to watch the security cameras. They’ll know where we went soon.” She dropped her hands. “We might have five minutes.”
“Then up we go.” He removed the grate that covered the duct opening above their heads, setting it aside. Hopping down, he placed his hands on her waist, preparing to hoist her up and into the vent.
She covered his hands with hers, stopping him. “Whoa. Wait.”
Above her, there was only darkness. Even here, in this tiny closet, the walls began to press in on her. She’d never experienced claustrophobia before being taken hostage, but after months of being stuck in a cell, the prospect of crawling through metal tunnels barely wide enough to fit her body…well, it wasn’t appealing.
She met Nick’s impatient gaze. “I…I can’t…” She swallowed. “I mean, it’s…” She glanced helplessly at the ceiling. Her eyes stung.
Oh goodness. She wasn’t going to cry, was she? Just when she thought nothing would make this more mortifying.
He studied her face. His thoughts were quiet, his face unreadable. Finally, he reached around her. Standing this close, he was once again pressed against her. She closed her eyes, her head dropping.
“Here. You’ll need this.” He pressed something into her hand. “This is the only way out.”
She opened her palm to find a tiny flashlight. He got it. He knew. Whatever mess was going on in her mind, he seemed to understand. Her head jerked up. But he was studying her waist again, trying to get a good grip on her jumpsuit.
Her fingers tightened around the light as if it held oxygen and she couldn’t breathe. Thanks caught on the tip of her tongue.
“When you get up there, go that way.” He pointed to the left. Then he lifted her from a bent-knee press and unceremoniously tossed her up into the opening.
Definitely too thin. Thank God I brought food.
With that, the gratitude she felt a moment ago diminished slightly.
She caught the edge of the duct and pulled herself up. Awkwardly, she shimmied the rest of the way into the cool metal tube that ran through the ceiling. She was panting by the time she reoriented onto her hands and knees. Creeping forward, she ducked her head, watching under her armpit as Nick hoist himself up and into the opening behind her.
As he rearranged his big body with more grace than she would have thought possible in such a tight space, he didn’t appear to be winded at all.
Darn him and his incredibly fit body.
That way. Past two openings on the right and then take the third.
She shifted the flashlight in her fist, pointing its narrow beam forward. It didn’t do much to illuminate their path, but it was better than crawling around in the dark.
They crept through the ductwork. Every creak and groan of the metal made her cringe. Her heart pounded loudly in her ears. They would be discovered, she was certain. She waited, barely breathing, for someone beneath them to stop and put it together. But so far, the guards below scurried around, making enough noise to conceal her and Nick’s escape.
Still, her pulse quickened every time some screech or thud they made was too loud.
They’d been going nearly fifteen minutes before a voice below stopped her.
“What do you mean that corridor doesn’t have cameras?” It had been weeks since she’d seen Dr. Fields, but his voice left her hands clammy and her stomach quivering.
His conversation with the other man, a security higher-up, was muffled by sirens and shouts from throughout the complex, but Kitty could hear it.
Lucky her.
“We have cameras in the high security wings, and we have cameras in the research and development laboratories.” Whatever security person Fields was speaking to, he didn’t like being reprimanded by the doctor. Not in the least. “There is broader surveillance throughout the remainder of the complex. But whoever did this knew where the remaining cameras were.”
“An inside job?”
“Perhaps. Or someone with very good intel.”
“It’s certainly not my employees.” Fields oozed arrogance—as always. “I very carefully screen the few people who work for me.”
“And we don’t? We’re a high security military contractor, doctor. We have the strictest levels of secrecy.”
Fields bristled. His voice had disappeared around the corner, but his thoughts echoed in her mind, like a nightmare that lingered after waking. “This happened on your watch, Pike. If the prisoner isn’t recovered, it can jeopardize everything.”
“I’m aware of that, doctor…”
The remainder of their conversation disappeared as they moved out of the range of her power, behind too many concrete walls.
She allowed her head to sag between her shoulder blades. She took deep breaths. He hadn’t known she was there. She was still free.
His words remained, though. It can jeopardize everything. What did that mean?
Who was that? Was that Fields?
She nodded, starting forward again. So, he knew about Fields. She wondered how much more information he had. It didn’t matter. They needed to get out of here, one way or the other. Thankfully, Nick seemed to agree, and he let it go.
She followed the rest of his directions without comment, and they wove their way through the walls and ceiling until they reached a length of duct that ran straight up.
Stop here.
She shifted up, into the opening, and then backed out so that she could face him.
His face looked spooky in the flashlight beam. Poised on one hand, he rifled through his pocket, coming up with what appeared to be claws of some kind.
“What are those?” she whispered.
He held them out. The military made them for me. I’m going to cut holes in the duct, we’re going to climb up this tube, and go out on the roof.
“Won’t they notice us?”
Yes. Eventually. But I’ve got it covered.
With that ominous promise, he rose, focusing on what he had to do. He cut a hole a foot or so up on one side, then another a foot or so above that on the adjacent side. He repeated this process until he couldn’t reach any higher. Then he put his foot in the first hole he’d made and hiked himself up. He moved up the duct in that way, quickly creating footholds along the sides of the ductwork as he went, until he reached the grate above them.
Nearly twenty feet above them.
You need to come up.
He wanted her to climb, too.
Okay. All right. She stretched her neck, trying to loosen the kink that had formed there. If this was the way out, then this was what she would have to do. She’d been through a lot over the past months. She wasn’t the timid girl she’d been.
She could do this.
You can do this. His voice floated in her mind. It was full of his usual steel, the bossiness she’d come to associate with him. Except it didn’t feel like bossiness now. It felt like confidence.
It filled her up, chased away her doubt.
Nick believed she could do this. If he believed she could do this, she wasn’t going to prove him wrong.
She stood, putting the pocket-sized flashlight in her mouth. She refused to climb without any light. Maybe Nick could do hardcore stuff like that, but there was only so much she could expect from herself.
Her fingers slipped into the first hold at shoulder height. But when she tried to grip, to hoist herself up, the sharp edge cut into her palm.
She hissed and yanked her hand back, rubbing the soft flesh. In the flashlight beam, she watched tiny pinpricks of blood pool along the line. She pressed the sleeve of her jumpsuit against them.
Pull the suit sleeves down over your palms. That damn thing looks big enough.
She scowled up at him. He’d made this—everything—look so easy. It wasn’t fair.
Put your anger into your task. We need to move. He might have seemed heartless if she couldn’t feel the compassion in him.
Did he feel bad for her? She couldn’t handle his pity.
Gritting her teeth, she blocked him and his pity and his thoughts out. She needed to concentrate.
Instead, she focused on the fire in her chest. She latched onto that determination, shaking out her hands. This wasn’t going to be it. She wasn’t going back to that cell. She hadn’t come this far to fail.
She gripped the handhold again, with the barrier of her jumpsuit over her hands, and hiked her foot into the first opening from the bottom. Thank goodness for the rubber on the bottom of her socks. It gave another layer of protection from the sharp metal. She inhaled and started up. In her mind it took forever, but in reality, she probably made pretty good time.
At the top, she glanced up at Nick, the triumph of getting to him singing through her blood. As the flashlight played over his features, he didn’t look surprised—which surprised her. Instead, he looked proud.
Her chest constricted, and she looked away, unsure what that meant. She’d closed him out, so she had no idea what he was thinking. But when she opened her mind again, he’d already looked away to the grate above their heads.
A little more… A faint click sounded, followed by his triumphant, ah ha! He adjusted his footing, then put both of his hands over his head and pushed. The grate didn’t look light, but it came away from the sides pretty easily. He grunted as he heaved it, throwing it off the opening.
He made two more handholds before he gripped the top of the duct and pulled himself up and out.
She hurried to follow, less gracefully than him, of course, but finally her fingers tightened on the edge. She scurried, frantic to get out, to smell the fresh air again.
Nick grasped her forearms, helping her to climb the last few feet. She tumbled out of the opening in her excitement, but he caught her against him, hauling her up.
Again, she found herself in his arms, pressed against his wide chest. Again she felt breathless and off-kilter. Except this time, she didn’t blame the moment or the fact that she’d climbed up a duct a second ago.
No, her body was reacting to him. To Nick, who thoroughly infuriated her, who talked down to her months ago and hadn’t thought she could manage herself.
Kitty looked up and into his eyes, allowing him to hold her against him, enjoying the way his arms felt around her.
We made it. I got her out. Thank God. His relief washed over her. While she was enjoying his body, he was thinking about their success.
She pushed away from him, needing to stop being so close, needing to stop feeling him. Only then did she catch the chill in the air. That’s right. It was fall.
“What now?” she asked, wanting to think about anything except him. She’d expected some sort of ATV, or that there would be a helicopter to extract them.
Nick turned to the corner. Even in the dark, she could make out the glint of metal. When she heard his thoughts, she understood what would happen next.
They were going to zip-line out of here.