Page 89 of Thorn

“Stop, Arya,” Thorn called.

“Climb!” Brigitte countered.

“Arya, this isn’t the answer you’re looking for. I’m going to get you out of this. You’ll see your sisters again. Don’t give up on them. Your sisters need you. Your nieces need you. The freaking whales in the oceans need you.Ineed you. Ineedyou, Arya. Let me help you with the pain.”

Arya had stopped and was listening to him.

Brigitte took out her phone and turned on the video of their screwing to its loudest setting. The sounds filled the night.

Arya climbed higher.

And he knew what was going through her head. She’d trusted too many people. Trusted George Matthews. Trusted DuBois. Had even trusted her captors who lied and manipulated her. Trusted that they’d told her the truth about her sisters. There was no reason for her to trust anyone right now. Not even him.

He could bare his soul to her tell her that he’d been fighting his emotions, but to no avail. She was written in his heart. That he wanted her to come down and be safe, because he couldn’t lose her.

But all of that was selfish and self-centered on his part and probably meaningless to her.

Thorn did the only thing he could think of, he stopped talking. He jogged down to the other end of the arch and started his own climb.

“Keep going, Juliette. At the top, you can just let go and fly fr−” Brigitte’s words were cut off.

Thorn could see Gage’s fist following through on a right hook as Brigitte slipped to the ground.

Chapter Forty-Two

Thorn

Paris, France

Monday, Zero Four Hundred Hours

Thorn climbed without a word.

He watched Arya swaying. Gripping. Moving one hesitant foot, then the other.

Fear washed through his system, cold waves tingling over his skin. His heart crushing under the weight of his terror. He couldn’t push past it. He depended on training to move him up the side of the arch. Up. Up.

Once he crawled across the top, he stilled.

Lynx wasn’t in his ear, giving sage advice.

His team was on the ground. Everyone, friend and enemy alike stood, hands on hips, heads back, watching Arya on her climb.

She had to make the climb.

He understood that at some primal level.

As sure as Thorn knew he hated everything about what was happening, he knew this was her journey. He straddled the arch, then lay on his stomach.

He looked through the metal bars. Arya turned her face up and caught his eye.

“I understand.” He choked on the emotions that clogged his throat. With an iron grip he took hold of his own fears and thrust them aside. He cleared the debris. His conviction flowed freely.Thiswas about Arya. He was there to supporther. Solid. Strong. Unwavering. He hoped she could readthatin hiseyesas they focused on each other.“We’ll do this together.”

“What?” she called out.

But he didn’t answer her.

After a moment she climbed. Thorn was laser focused on her. He watched as her fingers unclasped and reached rung after rung. There was nothing he could do right now but wait. His mind raced around trying to find ways to solve this problem. To win the game. To pull out a victory. But there wasnothingthat he could do. He had to wait for Arya to get to the top.

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