Jacks, Marcy - Handcuffed to the Werewolf [DeWitt's Pack 3] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove) (4 page)

be fine.”

Jason breathed a heavy sigh. “Okay.”

Then he seemed to think about something. “What if the concrete

chips while you’re cutting it?”

There wasn’t even just that to worry about. This place looked like  a do-it-yourself project that had been badly executed. Some of that  concrete could flake away while they were climbing it, and they could  both slice their fingers clean through. Then Deacon or any one of his  men could come back, and they would both be absolutely fucked.

“That won’t happen,” Mick said.

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Chapter Five

The main concern would be if anyone heard him making the long scratching noises that he was, but no one came to stop him. Not when he transformed, not when he lifted himself onto his hind legs to make the loud swipes, not when he jumped higher than that to make more, and not when he shifted back into a man either.

He kept waiting for someone to come back and shoot him in the face, but they never did.

Strange, but he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.  Maybe the hunters had gone out hunting. He had no idea, but Mick wouldn’t try to swap theories with Jason while they were making their

escape.

“You ready?” he asked.

“As I’ll ever be,” Jason admitted.

Mick took a second to observe his mate, listening to his heartbeat  and breathing. It impressed him, the way Jason seemed to be handling  the situation, considering everything that was happening. Had Jason  been a werewolf, his personality, so far, suggested he would be an  omega, which made his ability to stay calm that much more amazing.

His heart was still hammering pretty hard. Mick would have to  watch that, making sure Jason didn’t leave the green zone and go into  red during their escape.

He’d just found his mate. He’d like to leave with him alive, thank  you very much.

“Okay, I’ll be right beside you if anything goes wrong.” Jason  smiled weakly at him, though  Mick could still sense how grateful the  other man was for the support.

Handcuffed to the Werewolf
                    
27

Then they started their climb.

By no means had Mick been able to reach high enough that they would be able to climb right out, but once he got to the top, where the marks from his claws stopped, he was sure that he could just propel himself the rest of the way with a strong leap.

To do that, he would have to wait until Jason climbed to the top of the claw marks as well. Then he would jump without fear that the chain would run out of slack, and he would pull Jason up the rest of

the way.

Brilliant
.

All he had to do was let Jason catch up to him.

Jason was a human, and not a very athletic one from the looks of it, but he was hardly scrawny. Climbing a ladder should be cake for him, but this was not a ladder. These were scratch marks in the wall

that he was clinging to, and his toes barely fit into the claw marks

Mick had made for him.

Needless to say, for a human, it was a struggle.

“You’re doing good. We’re about halfway up,” Mick said,

reaching for the next line and pulling himself just a little higher.

Jason’s breathing had gone hard, the effort to keep himself  pressed so closely to the wall getting to him. Mick was strong, but if  Jason fell, he would be pulled backward into the pit with him.

“Doing great. Don’t give up.”

Jason blew out a hard breath that disturbed the grey dust on the  wall, and Mick was able to breathe easier when he reached for the

next long claw mark.

It was like that for a good ten minutes. It should have taken Mick

five seconds to climb it, but with Jason, things moved slower.

Now he really understood Deacon’s reason to chain him to a  human. He hadn’t been kidding when he’d said it would slow them  down should they try to escape.

Then Mick climbed as high as he could go, clung to the wall for  four minutes so Jason could catch up, and they both looked at each

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other and laughed.

“Christ, that was hard,” Jason said, pressing his forehead against  the cement wall, likely because it felt cool against his hot skin. Every  inch of his exposed flesh gleamed with sweat, and his breathing came  out in short and fast spurts through his mouth.

“You did so good, baby. The rest I can do now.”

Jason turned to look at him and smiled. “Thank God.”

Mick laughed then looked above himself, judging the rest of the height they needed to travel. Only another five feet or so. If that. He could definitely do this.

Mick braced himself, licked his lips, prayed to God, and then launched himself up.

Fuck, he wasn’t going to make it! But then he reached out and caught the ledge with his fingertips.

“Holy shit,” he breathed. For a second there, he was sure he wasn’t going to make it and would fall back in.

“Mick? You all right?”

He looked down below him. Jason’s nose was pressed firmly against the wall. He didn’t dare look up lest he lost his balance.

“I’m fine, hang on,” Mick pulled himself up and over the ledge with a small grunt, then got onto his knees and gripped the chain as hard as he could.

“Okay, if you can, grab the chain and hold on tight. I’m going to  lift up you.”

There was a shuffle and a scrape. “Got it.”

Good. Mick pulled, and in five hard tugs, Jason was coming up  and over the ledge.

The guy pulled himself over and lay on his stomach like a sailor  who’d found land. “Oh, my God, thank you so much.”

Whether he was thanking Mick or God, he didn’t know.

“Come on, we’re not out of this yet,” Mick said, grabbing Jason  by his unchained hand and pulling him up.

“Damn,” Jason muttered but shakily got to his feet anyway.

Handcuffed to the Werewolf
                    
29

“This is going to make a lot of noise,” Mick said, lifting his hand  so that the clink of the links in their chain would rattle. In the quiet  space, it only seemed to be that much louder. “We have to be careful  to keep it tight and stay as quiet as possible. Chained together like  this, we  don’t want any fights.”

Jason swallowed and nodded eagerly on that bit of advice.

Right. The guy probably had never been in a fight before in his  entire life.

“Let’s get out of here.”

They went to the door first. It was the only door in the room, and  it was metal, huge, and gray.

Before, down when they were in the pit, Mick had scented some  sort of earthy, wet smell that made him think of a basement, but being  that far underground, couldn’t tell for sure. Now that he was up here,  looking at the high windows and with the distinctive smell still in the  air, he knew they were indeed still underground.

That made getting out that much harder.

“Wait,” Jason whispered, pointing at the windows that Mick had  just dismissed. “The windows. I can see the stars. We can get out  from there.”

“I wouldn’t be able to fit through them,” Mick said gently.

Jason opened his mouth then closed it again as the logic of Mick’s  words struck him. They were still chained together and were in this  together for however long that remained the same.

“Get to the side of the door,” Mick said, padding over to it with  his new partner and, keeping his back pressed firmly into the wall,  reached for the handle.

He knew it would shriek loudly. He’d heard it when Deacon left them alone the last time,  but now that they were trying to keep as quiet as possible, it seemed to grate on the ears, that much louder than it had been before.

Unbelievable.

Still, no one came.

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Jason nudged him and, not daring to speak out loud, had mouthed,  “Anyone there?”

Mick peeked through the crack, pulled his head back before he could be seen, then looked once more, longer this time, just to be sure he’d seen that right.

There was someone there. One person. And in the classical style of incompetent minions, the guy was relaxing in his chair, feet up on a desk, facing away from the door, and was bobbing his head to whatever music he had playing through those headphones in his ears.

What a fucking moron.

Mick turned back to Jason, lifting his finger to show that there was indeed  one person out there, and then he put that finger to his lips and started tiptoeing out, trusting that his mate would follow him. The chain would not give them enough slack for Mick to kill that hunter without Jason nearby.

They crept along. The chain only made minimal sounds between them, but the idiot who was supposed to be guarding them wouldn’t have noticed if the building was falling down around him.

He certainly didn’t notice that Mick was behind him until he had his hands on the man’s jaw, and by then it was too late.

Mick dropped the body, letting it sag back into the swivel chair, music still blaring. Mick walked around and slid the man’s eyelids shut to feign sleep. Maybe that would buy them some more time.

He looked up, and Jason Snowe was as pale as his last name suggested and trembling, and his heart rate had gone up.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Jason, I had to do it,” he said, knowing that Jason could very

likely decide he didn’t give a shit and go into shock.

He nodded instead. “I know.”

Thank God for that. Mick took him by the hand, and they made their way down the cold hallway. The air was so chilled that, even though it was still summer, Mick could feel the way Jason’s skin pebbled up under his hand.

Handcuffed to the Werewolf
                    
31

They had to get out of here. Figure out where they  were, find some kind of shelter, and then Mick had to get back to the pack before  James launched into an attack that could potentially kill several of their members.

They walked on their toes but kept their pace brisk. There was no one else. Now Mick was really beginning to think that the others had gone. Maybe out to deliver the message to James personally? It would make sense, considering they’d left only one person behind.

The hallway they were in was a huge thing, with more cement lining and dangling fluorescent bulbs above their heads, that appeared as though a huge truck could drive through. And it was at a slope, leading up, until they finally made it to a pair of giant metal sliding doors.

“I think this is it,” Jason said. “I heard screeching metal when the  van stopped for a bit. I think this is the way out.”

“Good job,” Mick said, gripping his hand tighter and running full  force to it. Now his heart was the one to start pumping, the idea of  freedom exciting him, and the scent of fresh air was already lingering  near the doors.

They were locked, but that didn’t matter. Mick wouldn’t be strong enough to break down the sliding doors, but the little door built into them, used when a person wanted to come and go, as opposed to a large vehicle, was a piece of cake to kick in.

His skin pebbled as the night air washed over him, and he suddenly didn’t feel so dirty. He sucked in a large breath of cool air through his mouth, and it was as refreshing as any glass of water.

Fresh night air, grass, trees, freedom. He sighed in bliss.

Jason was doing the same. He wasn’t a werewolf with heightened senses, but he was still able to appreciate the gift.

“Are we safe now?”

Mick took in another breath, through his nose this time. He scented the exhaust fumes from trucks, the hunters who’d taken them,

and Deacon. The scent was still fresh, but that didn’t mean they

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Marcy Jacks

wouldn’t be back soon and find their friend dead.

“No, we need to keep moving.” But the problem with that was  that Jason was tired, and they were still chained together.

“Get onto my back,” Mick said.

Jason’s eyes went wide. “What?”

Mick got down onto his knees, giving Jason his back. “Climb on,  hold on, and do whatever you can to keep that silver bit you’re  wearing from touching my skin. I’ll run with you for as long as I’m  able.”

Jason hesitated, and Mick was about to command him to hurry before he felt the distinctive warm touch of Jason’s bare chest

pressing against Mick’s back.

Right. He’d forgotten that he was naked and that Jason was nearly  so. He couldn’t help the way his prick swelled. The need to stake his  claim was a loud, inward demand that his body wanted to obey.

Not yet.

“Do you know where we are?”

Mick looked to the sky, noting the stars. “Soon I will,” and he  took off running, Jason making a tiny squeak of shock from behind  him.

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