Page 95 of The SEAL's Duchess
Ivy stared at the gap. Three feet. She could make it. Probably. But water geysered from a ruptured pipe on the far side, icing the metal. And beyond that, nothing but railing and a straight drop to the ocean.
I can’t do this. Panic welled thick and choking in her throat.
Ryder. Ellie.Faces she had to see again.
She sniffed, puffed her cheeks.
Be loud, Ivy.Think.
Her gaze swept the deck. Cargo containers, lashed equipment, the crane boom overhead. A fire-hose cabinet ten feet away, its glass front glinting red.
“Jack. Over there.” Ivy pointed to the cabinet. “We’re not done yet.”
They hobbled to it. Ivy shattered the safety glass with the emergency hammer—pain jolting up her arm—but she didn’t pause. She yanked the hose free, canvas rough and damp against her bloodied palms. The brass coupling at the end was bolted to the main feed.
“Jack. Wire cutters.”
“Hold it steady.” Jack fumbled at her belt and drew them out. Her fingers shook.
Ivy braced the hose as Jack positioned the cutters on the brass coupling, jaw clenched.
The metal bit, resisted.
“Come. On,” Jack growled through her teeth.
The coupling shrieked, snapped.
Jack slumped against the bulkhead, gasping. “Fuck me, that was hard.”
Ivy dragged the hose free of its mount and hauled it to the gap, unwinding as she went, wincing as the heavy canvas rasped over her ripped palms.
At the edge, she wrapped it around Jack’s waist, knotted it tight, then looped the other end around herself.
“What’re you doing?” A dent creased between Jack’s eyes.
“Insurance.” Ivy yanked the knots.Solid. “I jump first. If you slip, I’ve got you.”
“And if we both go in?”
“Then at least neither of us dies alone.”
Jack’s mouth twitched. Almost a smile. “Worst fucking pep talk I’ve ever heard.”
Ivy took hold of Jack’s shoulders and hugged her close. Jack smelled of oil and dog. “We can do this.” She pulled back and gave Jack her bravest smile.
Jack nodded once, eyes bright. “Right with you, Duchess.”
Ivy backed up five paces. She took several slow breaths, her pulse slamming like it wanted out.
She ran.
Leaped.
For one weightless second, there was only air and wind and the black gap yawning beneath her.
Her boots hit metal. Ivy skidded, slammed the railing, pain lancing down her leg—but she held on.
Spray from the shattered pipe drenched her in seconds. She gasped, shock blasting the air from her lungs.
