Page 22 of Fire Fight

In sudden panic, I try to push up with my lower foot, but the added force sends it skidding into thin air.

My balance tips further. Both feet sliding.

Then muscular arms are around my waist. Jerking me back from danger. Lifting me to safety.

I gasp as Drake’s fingers splay across my cheek, cradling me to his chest. In a few steps, my back is against the cliff face, his body forming a protective fence between me and the terrifying slip.

My heart stutters, blood roaring in my ears, head clogged with panic.

For a long moment, I’m paralysed, nothing in the world except for the steady thump of my pulse, the cold water contrasting with his warm skin, the huff of his breath against my cheek.

I close my eyes, letting the safety of his strong grip wash away the burst of terror. Overjoyed to feel the seawater drip down his chest and soak into my white blouse.

Idiot. Idiot. Idiot.

For all the dumb mistakes I’ve made in my life so far, accidentallywalking off the side of a cliffranks at the top.

I try to laugh but a whimper emerges instead, and Drake’s hands clasp me tighter, becoming painful as he hauls me up the path, pushing me away once we reach the solid concrete of the viewing platform at the top, like he can’t stand for me to be near him.

My hands clutch the protective iron railing while my brain struggles to convince my body I’m safe.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” His fingertips dig into my upper arm as he reaches out to shake me. “You nearly fell.”

“Don’t yell at me,” I scream as my fear makes the easy conversion into anger. “I didn’t know the path would collapse underneath me.”

“You weren’t on the path.”

He twists my head, pointing back to where there’s a small landslide.

And he’s right. I veered farther off to the side than I thought—more than a foot past the marked edge—too worried about him drawing level to pay attention.

“Do me a favour.” His strong fingers clutch my chin, forcing me to read the ferocity in his gaze. “If you’re going to throw yourself onto the rocks to die, please choose a time when I’m notwalking right next to you. I’ve got enough problems to deal with without having your death wish pinned on me as murder.”

He flicks my arm away, lips twisting like he stuck his hand in something rotten, then stalks towards the house, grabbing the towel he left hung over a chair on the back patio on the way past.

And once again, he leaves me shaking.

The outline of his wet body marked on mine.

CHAPTER EIGHT

CADENCE

“Have some yoghurt,”my mother says when I arrive back in the kitchen, blouse changed to a dry one, school bag in my hand.

Drake glowers at me, keys jingling in his hand. “You don’t have time for yoghurt.”

I kiss Mum goodbye and Drake ambles towards the front door, moving with all the urgency of a snail.

“Come on,” I blurt, dancing ahead of him—and setting off the ear-drum-bursting blare of an alarm when I open the door.

“I’ve got it,” Drake yells back to the kitchen, flipping down the cover on a box two metres from the door. He punches in a code and the head-splitting shriek dies, thank fuck.

He reverses out of the garage, and I jump in the passenger side, smoothing my skirt and fiddling with my hair, dread expanding with every passing second.

Along with the first day jitters, my nerves still hum from the earlier scare. Drake saved me, but my body reacts like he caused the danger. A behaviour that isn’t helped by the irony of ourcurrent situation—that I’m being driven to my new school by the same psycho who ruined my experience at the old one.

After the incident, when I shed old friendships like dead skin and shook myself to pieces just cycling through the gate, I started skipping, but I can hardly do that now.

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