Page 146 of Rest In Pieces

35

GENESIS

Itry to keep my fear off my face, but it’s hard when I see the state she’s in. Her arm’s hanging limply at her side, and her shirt’s torn, showing the lace of her bra underneath. Blood oozes from a cut on her temple, and the whole left side of her face is scraped from where she must have slammed into the cliff wall as she grabbed the rope.

Seeing her go over the edge like that will haunt me for the rest of my life. It’s a damn miracle fueled only by her sheer determination that she’s still holding on when anyone else would be dead.

“I know this is hard, but you’re the expert here. Tell me what I need to do.” I’m used to taking control, but this is her area of expertise, not mine.. If I want to get her out of here, I’m going to need to listen to what she says.

“I need a glove. Keep the one for your right hand. That’s your dominant one, right?”

I nod. “Wait, you’re right-handed too.”

“Not today, I’m not,” she grimaces, glancing briefly at her injured arm.

“Shit, Amity.” I look up to see how far we have to go, and I want to roar when I see the distance.

“I can do this, G. I just need your help.”

“Anything.”

She licks her lips, and her face scrunches up with what she’s about to say. I brace, knowing I won’t like it.

“I’m balancing on a cam, but they’re not fall-proof. I need to let go of the rope to put the glove on, but if the cam slips, I’ll fall.”

“I’ll keep you pressed against the wall.”

She nods. “You need to hold my wrist. Use your body to keep me in place, but your hand needs to be around my wrist. If I slip, you’re the only one who can stop me from falling and hold me until I can grab the rope.”

I look at the rope as I piece together what she isn’t saying. To grab the rope, she needs to use her good hand. The same hand she needs to glove.

“You want me to grab your bad arm? Jesus, Amity, if I yank that, I’ll fuck your shoulder up for good. I can see it’s dislocated from here.”

“G, baby, I need you to listen to me, okay? I know you don’t want to hurt me, but hurt is better than dead. My shoulder can be fixed. My wrist can be fixed. My skull hitting the ground can’t be.”

“Your wrist? What’s wrong with your wrist?”

Her eyes slip closed for a moment. “I’m pretty sure it’s broken.”

“Amity—”

“My other hand’s hurt too, G,” she admits quietly.

Panic claws away at my insides. How the fuck am I supposed to get her out of here? “How bad?”

“It’s a rope burn, so not great. But it’ll heal. The glove will protect it.”

“Okay, let’s do this. Because if I think about it any more, I’ll lose my shit.”

“I’m ready. Take the glove off first.”

I do as she asks, using my teeth to help. I grip it in my hand and wait for her nod.

She leans back against the cliff and raises her bad arm, whimpering as she does. “Give me the glove.”

I hand it to her, hoping she has enough grip to keep hold of it.

“Okay, I’m ready.”

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