Page 69 of Wicked Duty
Panic explodes through my chest as one of the props detaches with a sharp jerk from the scaffolding and drops. A piece of the scaffolding itself follows.
Fear paralyzes me as I sway far above the ground. I can’t even open my mouth to scream.
My ropes slacken, and I plummet, careening down toward the net.
I squeeze my eyes shut. This is going to hurt. Even though the net should catch me, a drop from this height…
Air rushes by me, whipping my gown and hair like loose kite strings. The whistle of ropes lashes past my ears, and the shrieks grow louder. The impact comes, knocking the wind from my lungs.
Though I slam into the net, the pain isn’t as bad as I expected.
Applause and exclamations wash over me as I take stock of my body.
Four intact limbs, check. Head still attached to my neck. And definitely not dead.
A strong burst of relief bubbles up inside me. I’ll sport some bruises, but the net did its job. Though the slack seems a little loose. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be lying directly on the mat.
Wait.
Applause?
Beneath the myriad sensations blooming throughout my body, the scent of cedar and vanilla penetrates. I crack my eyes open.
Callum’s sprawled out on the protective net beneath me, clutching me tightly to his chest.
Not the mat after all.
Callum.
He…he broke my fall?
I gape, my stomach fluttering. I can’t tell if that sensation stems from residual anxiety or something else entirely.
“Callum?”
He winces. “Are you all right?”
“Are you?” I struggle to climb off him, but I’m tangled in the installment, this dress, and?—
“Lucy!”
One, two, three assistants pull me off Callum and detangle me from the fabric trapping my limbs.
A few other assistants guide Callum out of the net, but I can hardly see him as I’m half ushered, half carried toward the dressing station so I can be assessed for any injuries.
“Is he all right?” I push for answers.
One guy checks over his shoulder and nods.
The pressure crushing my chest dissolves. Good thing I was the last model.
The set’s in scattered ruin on the rooftop.
Guilt and regret pool in my limbs, weighing me down. I’m lucky no one was seriously injured. I crane my neck to reassure myself that Callum’s truly okay and find him standing tall.
He really does seem fine. Whereas I’m finished. They’ll kick my impulsive ass straight out of the competition for single-handedly destroying the set.
My eyes sting. Not only did I break everything and literally squash my chances of winning, but who knows how many thousands of people watching today’s challenge on social media saw the whole thing?
