Free Midnight Sun by M. J. Fredrick

my men will accompany you, but he will not assist."
    Monica's expression slackened in fear as another man toting a big gun stepped up beside her.
    "Do not make a mistake. Jorge is very good at his job. It would be a shame to be without a cook for the rest of the voyage."
    Brylie watched until Monica was marched out of the room. Thank God no one had mentioned her. She didn’t want to be pursued through the ship. The idea had fear icing her veins.
    She barely covered a shriek of alarm when Marcus tapped her foot, squeezing into the space with her. His expression was thunderous, brows drawn together, mouth tight, eyes dark with temper. At least he couldn't tear into her now. She didn't want to go back into the kitchen yet because that's where Monica and her guard were heading. So she remained, listening, making room for Marcus, hearing his heavy breathing that told her he was ready to have it out. Too bad.
    Once Monica and the guard emerged, Brylie slithered forward through the tunnel. Marcus grabbed her ankle and frowned. She motioned to the woman and to the crawlspace, certain he'd understand.
    Whether or not he did, he followed her, his mouth grim. When they reached their hiding place, he pinned her to the wall, eyes flashing.
    “I should be out there. I should be with them, with the gun held to my head while I bring food to the hostages. Not Monica. Me.”
    “Christ, Brylie, you can’t have your guilt drive you to do something stupid.”
    She drew back sharply, bumping her head into the wall.
    He eased away and shook his head, blowing his temper out on a breath. “Don’t look at me like that, Brylie. You know what I mean. We’re not going to be any help to anyone if we get caught, will we?”
    “What’s the point of us being able to move around if we can’t help?” she countered.
    “I don’t know,” he snapped. “But we have to think this through. We can’t just rush all over the place. We have to get to the bridge. We have to call for help. I just don’t know how.”
    Marcus lay back on the freezer, fingers laced over his chest and closed his eyes.
    “Hard for me to think with you vibrating over there,” he muttered, not opening his eyes.
    “Sorry I can’t be all Zen for you,” she retorted. “I’m just thinking it’s only a matter of time before they check the manifest and realize we’re not down there. They’ll tear this place apart looking for us, and once they find us—”
    “All the more reason to get in to the radio.” He rolled onto his side, propping his head on his hand, his elbow on the freezer. “What about the sightseeing helicopter?”
    “I don’t know how to fly.”
    “I’m thinking the radio.”
    She shook her head. “It needs a key to operate, and Carl always has the keys on him.”
    “Or the bad guys have them.” He blew out a breath. Back to plan A. “I need a weapon.”
    She widened her eyes. “You’re not going to confront them?”
    “Can you think of another way? Is there any place your dad might keep a gun on board, other than for the security team? No doubt they’ve been disarmed by now.”
    “I’m—” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “My dad might have a handgun in his cabin, but it’s too risky. Even if you can get to the cabin, you can’t go after those men. They’re armed to the teeth and experienced with weapons.”
    “And they don’t know we’re here. I have surprise on my side.”
    She shook her head. “No. I can’t let you do this.”
    He leaned forward and closed his hand over hers. “We don’t have a choice.”
    She let out a shuddering breath. “If they figure out we’re here, they’ll come looking for us.”
    He drew a sharp breath through his nose, sitting now. “So we’ll need a good place to hide. Any ideas?”
    She liked where they were now just fine. It wasn’t particularly comfortable, but warm, and the hum of the machinery disguised their conversation. Plus it was easily accessible by the vent, and close to the