Page 66 of Spike's Perdition
“I don’t waddle,” she repeats.
“Yeah, you do,” I insist. “And it’s the cutest thing I’ve ever fucking seen.”
“Smart man,” Megan teases and walks away.
An hour later, all the tents are set up, and dinner is cooking over a fire. The climbers eagerly talk about tomorrow’s adventures while I sit next to Ivory and listen to their excitement.
“I love this,” Ivory says absently.
“What?”
She nods at the others in the group. “This. A lot of these climbers have done excursions with us before, but every time it’s like it’s their first. Nothing beats the adrenaline that comes from what I do for a living, and I love it.”
“How long have you been running Chase the High?” I ask, realizing that in all the time we’ve spent getting to know each other, we never really talked about this.
“Megan and I started it several years back,” she says. “I’ve always been an adrenaline junkie, and she’s always supported my habit.”
I chuckle. “I get it. That’s how it was with Lonnie.” Ivory knows the story of how I met Lonnie Jacks and how I became a member of Saints Purgatory. “If not for him, I’d probably be dead or in prison.”
“Without Megan, my life would definitely be way less eventful. I’d still be seeking adventure, but I doubt I’d get the same thing out of it if I did it all alone.”
“Food’s ready,” Megan calls out, interrupting our conversation. “Feel free to dig in and stuff yourselves silly.”
One by one, climbers and staff fill their paper plates, and we all eat in silence. The meal is a simple one: chili, cornbread, and water. But it’s fucking fantastic.
After dinner, two of the guests break out guitars, and we sit around the fire singing and laughing until the moon is high in the sky. Ivory announces that it’s time for lights out, and everyone goes their own way into their tents.
“G’night, you two. Try not to be too loud tonight,” Megan teases as she zips her tent closed.
Ivory yawns, and I help her to her feet. “C’mon. Let’s get some shut eye. You’ve gotta be exhausted.”
She rubs her belly affectionately. “Weare definitely tired.”
I lead her to our two-man tent and ease her to the air mattress I insisted we bring so she can get comfortable. Laying down next to her, I tuck her against my chest, and it’s only minutes before a soft snore fills the air. I’m asleep shortly after.
In the morning, light filters through the canvas walls, and I stretch only to realize I’m alone. Scrambling to my feet, I listen for sounds from camp.
“I think I do.”
Ivory’s voice is the first I’m able to make out, and I smile.
“Might wanna be sure before things go much further,” Megan replies.
Are they talking about me?
I duck through the opening, and they both whip their heads in my direction.
“Morning,” Megan says.
Ivory walks toward me and rises on her tiptoes to kiss me gently. “Morning sleepyhead,” she says when she breaks the kiss.
“You left me again,” I accuse, but there’s no heat in my words.
She swats me playfully. “Someone’s gotta get up and make breakfast. Can’t have anyone climbing on an empty stomach.”
I want to ask them what they were talking about, but climbers begin to join us, and the moment is gone. Ivory tries to insert herself into every task, and I do my best to stop her from overdoing it. She’s not thrilled about it, but she doesn’t gripe too much, no doubt not wanting to make a scene in front of the others.
The rock climbing lasts the rest of the day, and I find myself realizing exactly why Ivory loves it so much. I might not be climbing, but it’s easy to get caught up in the excitement from the others.
