Midnight Sun by M. J. Fredrick Read Free Book Online Page A

He turned back into the room to see Brylie pulling on a thermal shirt over those gorgeous breasts.
    “Warm, do you understand me?” he said again, reaching for his boxers and jeans, tangled together at the edge of the bed.
    She pulled on a sweater, then another sweatshirt as he dressed, two pair of socks, and dug a pair of gloves out as he laced up his boots.
    “Any ID, bring it with you.”
    She gave him a puzzled look but opened a drawer and tucked cards into her jeans pocket. One of the cards was blank, with a black strip along the back.
    “What’s that?” he asked.
    “My master key card. In case.”
    He nodded. Good thinking. “Ready?”
    She nodded. “Are you sure—?”
    “Best to hide and figure it out later, yeah? We’re going in the hall and I’m going to give you a boost. Be careful not to put your weight directly on the tiles or you’ll fall through, okay?”
    “Marcus.” Her face was pale in the dim light, her eyes dark with fear. “I can’t. The passengers. We have to get them to safety. You know what my father said.”
    He hesitated. Every molecule in his body, that he’d trained himself to listen to, told him to bolt, to hide. But she was right. The passengers were his responsibility.
    “I’ll go.” He couldn’t allow her to come up her father’s bleeding body on the deck. He couldn’t be sure the man had been shot, but he’d been bloody close to the terrorists. Damn, he wished he knew what was going on, if the security guys had gone into action with those power hoses—and if that had been effective.
    “I have to go. My father—”
    Gunfire below them cut her off. Automatic weapons fired in staccato bursts, and hand guns popped. Ours or theirs? Screams from the passengers. Marcus realized getting all the passengers to the interior of the ship, in one place, would make it easier for the terrorists to hurt them. No. He and Brylie had to find a way to hide, to call for help.
    “We won’t be able to get to them without getting caught ourselves.” He flinched when another gunshot went off, this one closer, from what sounded like the stairwell. He jumped up and hit the ceiling tile with the tips of his fingers to make sure it moved. When it shifted to his satisfaction, he turned to Brylie, who was wild-eyed and tense enough to snap.
    He placed a hand on her shoulder to focus her. “Trust me.”
    He went down on a knee, forming a cup with his hand and she placed her booted foot into it. Straining, he lifted her until she could reach the ceiling. She shoved a tile out of her way and pulled herself through as he rose, pushing her along.
    “Good girl,” he muttered.
    More shouting from the deck had him hesitate. She was safe, but did he have time to follow her up, or would he get caught and give her away? He scanned her room for a quick way to give him a boost, but using something like that would leave a clue about where they’d gone. He closed her bedroom door and looked up into her face as she leaned down to help him.
    He grasped her wrists, and with his foot on the railing on the other side of the hallway, he pushed himself up and into the crawlspace beside her. He got the paneling in place just as he heard footsteps in the hall. He cradled Brylie against him, feeling her shivering, as a loud crash sounded down the hall, then another.
    They were kicking in doors, looking for passengers.
    What the hell did they want?
    He dragged Brylie closer, against the wall, making sure her weight was braced on the metal supports and not on the tile where the ceiling would sag, giving them away. He ran a soothing hand over her hair, though his own heart was pounding like hell. Because he couldn’t risk shushing her, he pressed his lips to her forehead, hoping she’d get the message.
    She did, only quivering as the footsteps approached, then jumping as the door right below them—her door—was kicked in. As he watched, her foot slipped off the metal support, but she caught herself millimeters from