Vivian Arend - High Risk

Becki waited until Alisha was out of earshot. “The team will do anything for you.”

“And I will do anything to keep them at the top of their game. It’s people’s lives at stake, Becki. You know it.”

His soft-spoken words seemed such a contrast to the firm persona he’d shown the others that she had to turn to see what had caused the change.

He raised a brow. “What?”

Oblivious. Fine, she wouldn’t bother now, but if he wanted to train with her? There might be more lessons coming than he expected.

Becki crackled her knuckles, shook out her fingers, and put her hands to the wall. “On belay?”

“Belay on.”

She placed a toe on a tiny sloper and took a step. Fingers tight around one hold, torso stretching as she reached upward. Behind her Marcus handled the ropes smoothly, no pressure tugging at her waist belt. Climbing with a competent partner was always so much more enjoyable.

She tilted her head back to examine the route . . .

The wind whipped around her, batting the hoodie against her head, pounding the light rain and the cloud cover into her until she was soaking wet. She hung, swinging lightly, something icy cold pressing her back. Becki blinked, squinted to focus, but nothing helped. Visibility remained at zero. She turned to face the wall and planted her feet, a sense of powerlessness rolling over her.

“You ready? Sometime today would be great.”

Dane’s sense of timing was lousy. Not to mention, his sense of humour needed an overhaul. “Bastard,” she muttered.

“I heard that.”

Of course he had. “Bastard with Superman hearing. Good for you.” Her frustration grew. This was why she hadn’t wanted to head in this direction for their descent, only he’d insisted. Now she was caught between one bad situation and another. “Dane, I can’t see a bloody thing. I could be exactly on route, or hanging over a thousand-foot free fall for all I know.”

Dane hesitated, then grudgingly asked, “You want me to go first?”

Yes, as a matter of fact. And I as much as told you that before stepping over the ledge. “You couldn’t have said something fifteen minutes ago? Jerk.”

“Yeah, but I’m your jerk, right?”

He laughed. The sound echoed off the rocks, and she instinctively tightened her grip on the rope. His amusement at her expense wasn’t welcome right now, not after the weekend they’d spent together. The weekend that had fit in perfectly with the painfully selfish way he’d been acting over the past weeks.

Something had changed, and she wasn’t sure she liked where their relationship seemed headed. Still, she pulled herself together and responded as plainly as possible. “Yes, Dane, you’re my jerk.”

Because saying anything else at this moment would be monumentally stupid.

“Bec? Love you.”

She leaned back, staring up the hillside. What was going on? That confession was the last thing she expected to hear. “Dane?”

All hell broke loose . . .

“Becki.”

She was more than halfway up the wall, climbing well, when she froze. Both hands in position, feet squarely set. Marcus waited for the next move.

It never came. She just . . . stopped.

“Becki.” He took up the extra slack, pulling her slightly as the rope he had locked in place passed over the anchor at the roofline and descended to her waist belt. If he wanted to, he could pry her free by dragging her upward, but that was a last-ditch rescue move.

If he could get her to move, he could avoid jerking her free and risk smashing her into the wall.

He shouted again, and when there was no response, he shifted to plan B.

“Alisha. Drop.”

“Dropping.” She had already let go of the wall, the self-belayer jerking into action like a modified seat belt security strap. The attachment connected to her belt lowered her slowly to the floor. She was in position, the second anchor rope loose, the fastener held in her fingers toward the wall. The instant the hook came within reach, she slammed the metal buckle of the carabiner through the cam, grabbed the vertical rope, and gave herself enough slack to remove the clip from her harness.

The line snapped tight to the wall as she released it to race to his side. “What do you need?”

No questions. No hesitation. Becki had been right, his team was good. “Take over belaying. I’m going to go secure her.”

Alisha nodded. “Hold the ropes tight.” She waited until he proved he had a solid grasp. She caught hold of the carabiner attached to his harness, twirled the lock open, then transferred the hook to her own belt. One more move and she’d snagged above where he had the rope in a death grip. “On belay. You climb.”

He allowed her to pull the weight from his grasp, not trusting until she actually took it from him.

Alisha twirled a foot into the loose rope on the floor, turning her body into a backup anchor. He didn’t have time to rope up himself. Didn’t have time for anything but to step to the wall and climb.

God, he should have done more of this over the past year. Not only his lack of training frustrated him as he climbed, but the mostly useless claw tool also hindered him. Only the portion directly at the base functioned as a small hook. Didn’t matter. He’d do what he had to.

“To your right, and up about three inches. Nice big jug for your foot. Good. Now the blue ribbon on the left, there’s enough ledge for your forearm.” Alisha continued to talk him through the ascent as he scrambled mostly one-handed up the wall. He crawled over Becki, guarding her with his body, planting his feet solidly, his torso leaning against her as he caught hold of the safety rope with his right hand.

Only then did he slip his left arm around her waist and pull her to him. “I got you, Becki. You’re okay.”

Alisha called from below. “Got you both. Ready for lower?”

“One second.” He squeezed Becki. “Come on, you with me?”

A slow stuttering gasp escaped her.

Good, someone was still home. “Becki, I need you to let go of the wall. I’m right here, and I’ve got you, but we want Alisha to lower us. You ready for that?”

She didn’t move. Her fingers were still white-knuckling the holds. Dammit.

He tucked his face right beside hers and nudged her cheek with his.

Her body went slack, her weight increasing.

“Alisha, hold tight.” Becki’s collapse put two full body weights on the rope, and his belayer was totally fatigued. This could be a quick trip down.

He should have let Alisha climb, but logic hadn’t been a part of his thought process. It was Becki in trouble, dammit. He took a deep breath and braced himself.

“I’m going to peel her off the wall. She’s passed out. You ready?”

He felt it, the slight change of pressure as Alisha managed to lift their weight an inch or so. “No problem. Pull her off. I’ve got you solid.”

“Come on, Becki, I’ve got you. Trust me, okay?” The words were unneeded, at least for her sake, but he had to say it. Had to reassure himself as he leaned back and took her with him. He settled her into his lap, his arm around her an iron bar securing her in place. If Alisha did lose control of the ropes, they’d hit the crash mats, not the floor. He’d protect Becki from being slammed too hard with his body.

Still wasn’t his idea of a good time, crashing.

The instant Becki was clear from the wall, he snapped out his order. “Lower.”

“Lowering. Walk your way to the left a little, if possible.”

Alisha released the line smoothly, and Marcus breathed a sigh of relief as they passed the fifteen-foot marker. The ten. When they reached the floor, his ass coming to a nice easy landing, he glanced to the side to discover why Alisha had issued her strange warning to move to the left. She lay flat on her back, butt to the wall and legs extended toward the ceiling. She’d jammed her feet against a couple of larger holds and slipped the rope under her body to get enough leverage to counter the double weight.