He stared at the ground. “There's no easy way down this one. There's too much light by the stairs. But we're at the end. Focus on that.”
That sounded so ominous.
He climbed off the roof, and she leaned forward to see him lower to the ledge, with nothing but windows below him.
This wasn't happening. Kira would die. How did he think she'd make it down the side of a building without any stairs?
“Come on,” he whispered. “I have you.”
Nausea filled her as she scooted herself over the edge, freezing with her legs dangling. This was crazy. What if she fell?
A hand tapped her foot, and she lowered more until he caught her legs. More until his arms came about her waist. More until she let go completely and trusted him not to drop her.
He twisted and pushed her against the window, lowering her feet to the ledge.
She made it. She really did.
That was horrible. Kira held his shoulders in a death grip, acutely aware of how tightly his hard chest smashed against her. They'd spent hours together fleeing, and it wasn't the first time his body flattened hers, but he started feeling like a real person along the way.
While Kira didn't know him, she did know that so far he'd protected her. He killed a soldier who would have handed her over for execution to help her escape. She wasn't okay with someone dying because of her, but she chose to put herself at risk coming here. When she also chose to follow this soldier, she forced him into his own choice. Her or that soldier.
This was her fault.
Her fingers rested against muscles hewn into his shoulders, and she breathed him in, lips brushing his neck from how close he held her. Was she letting him sway her because of how being in his arms felt? Kira didn't know how he looked or sounded. But she'd come to know his body very well tonight for someone she knew so little about. And it overwhelmed her senses right now, making her desperate to pry off his mask and find a hint of skin.
Dehydration.
That had to be it. It wasn't like Kira to get dizzy over a man. Ridiculous.
The warmth of his body withdrew from her, and the full brunt of the wind ripped against her. Kira gripped the windowsill, holding her breath while the stranger dropped to the ledge below, giving her room to breathe in something other than him.
Shifting just enough to see below, she caught his hands reaching for her and knew he meant for her to climb down. She tried to make herself move. Really did. Her legs were locked in place, body bowing back toward the window.
But she had to.
Trembling from the fear of heights, she painstakingly and carefully eased down until his strong hands grabbed her and offered her a semblance of security.
His promise played on repeat in her mind. The one he uttered so many times tonight. He wouldn't let go.
Wouldn't.
The further she lowered, the more of her weight he took, stabilizing her, until her feet landed beside him.
“Well done,” he whispered.
Kira couldn't stop shaking. His closeness was the only thing able to distract her, but soon he took that from her to climb down a level.
Determined not to hold up the process, Kira worked toward the edge and started to lower her leg.
The concrete cracked and debris crumbled. She gasped, lunging toward the window when the ledge caved and gravity ripped her free.
Kira was falling.
Falling to her death.
The harness pulled and cut into her skin, ripping her toward the building.
There wasn't time to truly feel terror. He caught her right when the butterflies fluttering in her stomach sharpened to knives. But staring down into the darkness, her full weight leaning forward, all the fear of what might have been hit her as if she'd crashed to the ground below.
