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As soon as the harness is secure on her, I clip mine onto hers.
“Good job, good job.” Relief fills me. We’re linked—whatever happens to her will happen to me. “We’re gonna climb now, okay?”
As if the worst has passed, she wastes no time coming on to me. “Clayton…” Her sobs vibrate in my ear. “I’m pregnant.”
We have to keep going, but I let the moment take me as I sob with her. Surely, heaven would grant me just a few seconds with her to celebrate a miracle among the devastation around us. “I know, Isabelle. I know,” I murmur over her cheek.
“I don’t want to lose the baby, Clayton.”
“No. You won’t,” I vow. “Now, we have to go. It’s gonna hurt. But we’ve got to climb up.”
She pushes herself despite her broken leg. With that, she straddles me close, and her arms never leave me. The more secure she is on me, the easier it is for me.
Painful groans escape her throat as I start the laborious ascent.
“Hang in there, Isabelle.”
“I lost Baby Caili… I can’t go through it again,” she sobs. Her fear thickens as she feels herself sagging.
In a bid to calm her, I pause, wedging her gently between the cliff face and my body. My eyes find hers. “You won’t lose the baby. We won’t lose the baby. I promise.”
She tucks her face against my chest, holding on to me even tighter. From here on, I plant kisses on her crown with every foot of height I gain.
Until we make it to the top.
She keeps herself glued to me even when she feels solid ground under her. I stay in this position, signaling to her I’m not asking her to let go.
We’re still linked, and we will be until we’re safely back on the chopper.
“We must find Raffi,” she pants as her eyes wander to Fletcher’s lifeless body, lying not far from us.
“He’s safe. He’s with Blake’s police friend. It’s over. No one is going to harm him, or you.” Then I place my hand on her belly.
She beams like I’ve never seen her before, inviting me to kiss her. And I do her lips, her face, her tears, her pain. I then get rid of the rope that’s tied around her wrist—the last remaining sign of Fletcher’s reign of terror.
I give a signal to Wyatt, who’s been flying the chopper in place about half a mile away from us.
“Hang on to me one more time,” I beg Isabelle as the rain starts to pelt down on us.
Her pain is visible, but calmness radiates out of her as she readies herself for the extraction.
Blake lowers the winch-fed cable while Wyatt maintains altitude to keep minimal downwash. I hook us up, and soon we leave the ground. I say in her ear, “Actually, hold me like this forever, and I’ll be a happy man.”
She locks her lips onto mine. Gentle but firm—loving beyond anything I’ve ever felt.
Thunder and lightning crack around us.
“Come on, guys! We’ve gotta get out of here!” Wyatt shouts as Blake hustles to get us on board.
“Be careful. Her right leg is broken,” I warn Blake when he takes over Isabelle. “And she’s—”
Blake smiles against the wind that’s battering his face. Of course, he knows.
“I’ve got you, Isabelle.” Blake holds her by the armpits, then hauls her to the middle of the chopper.
“Let’s go!” I instruct Wyatt. We’ve got to outfly this storm.
I watch Blake unclipping Isabelle’s carabiner off mine, and I see blood.
