Page 16 of Raul
“Dario,” she called, stepping away. “Safety check.”
His bodyguard came over and inspected the knot, the harness, and Raul’s helmet. “All good.”
She geared up for belaying while Dario did his inspection. “Ready for my safety check.”
Raul wanted to offer his services for testing her harness so he could touch her the way she had touched him. Too bad he wasn’t expert enough to be taken seriously.
Dario examined all the knots and carabiners and other gizmos Erica had fed the rope through. “Looks good to go,” he said. “I’ll be on backup as soon as he starts climbing.”
Erica nodded and turned to Raul, her stance one of expectancy. “I will be watching you every inch of the way,” she assured him.
He liked knowing she would be focused on him, and not just for safety reasons.
Even in her harness and helmet, she looked too small and light to be the brake for his six-feet-plus. Yet, after their day and a half together, he trusted her, maybe in more ways than one.
He locked eyes with her for a moment. “I’m counting on you.”
He pivoted toward the cliff. Adrenaline surged through him as he tilted his head back to scan up the expanse of shimmering gray stone. Thrusting his hands into the chalk bag, he squeezed the ball to cover them, the dust glittering in the sunlight, before shifting the bag to his back.
“On belay.” He began the call-and-response that initiated the climb.
“Belay on,” Erica responded.
He set his foot on the first ledge. “Climbing.”
“Climb up,” she answered.
Taking a deep breath, he reached for the first jug.
After that, his focus narrowed to the next handhold or foothold. Erica had given him the commands for asking for more or less slack in the rope, but he never had to use them. It helped that she knew what route he was taking, encouraging and guiding him on the next step of his upward journey. But it was more than that. She seemed to read his mind and had already adjusted for his every move in a smooth rhythmic dance.
Time disappeared as he searched the rock for the right minuscule outcropping, his whole world only three square feet of gray stone, shifting as he moved.
And then his foot slipped off a tiny ledge just as he was reaching for the next handhold. He tried to stretch his arm to catch the protruding rock but missed. His other foot skidded off the ledge so he was hanging by one hand, his shoulder screaming with the strain, his stomach twisted in fear as he glanced down to see Erica far below.
“I’ve got you.” she shouted. “Let go! You’ll just injure yourself.”
Jaw clenched, he tried to lift himself with one arm so he could reach the next handhold.
“Use your legs, not your arms,” she said, her voice steadying him.
He groped with his toes for the ledge, his arm muscles shaking.“Joder!”he muttered as his fingers slipped off the rock, his fingernails scraping over it. “Falling!” His heart flipped in panic as he plunged through thin air.
But he didn’t fall. Not really. Just dropped a couple of feet to dangle from the rope looped securely through his harness, his heart pounding with fear and adrenaline. He looked down againto see Erica with both feet braced against the cliff as she held him in place while Dario grasped the rope behind her.
“Anchor’s good,” Pascal shouted from above.
“You okay?” Erica called out.
“I broke a couple of fingernails and bruised my ego, but otherwise I’m fine,” Raul called down, reaching for the handhold again.
“Rest for a few minutes,” Erica said. “I don’t want the royal manicurist any more pissed at me.”
That surprised a laugh out of him, relieving a small amount of his terror and frustration at his failure.
“Experienced climbers know when to take a break,” she said.
“Mierda,”he muttered before shouting, “Okay, tension!” He would let her hold his weight for now.
