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“It’s not a far climb—about ten feet,” he assures me. “But you’re going to have to help me. I don’t trust my clothes to hold your weight if I have to haul you up the whole way.”
I swallow hard, the reality of the climb ahead settling like a stone in my stomach. I nod. The rope of clothing, a lifeline that binds us together, is a fragile link in this precarious journey.
“I’ll go up first,” he continues. “Watch where I find foot and hand holds, and use the same ones as best you can.”
“Okay,” I breathe, trying to keep the panic from my voice.
Leo helps me turn until I can use the cliff wall to support my weight. Then, he begins the climb back up the rocky edge.
I watch with a mix of trepidation and determination, etching every movement into my memory as Leo navigates the cliffside with the same dexterity that brought him down to me. His back glistens with sweat, bringing his tattoo to life.
When Leo reaches the top, he turns to look at me. Kneeling, he looms over the edge, a silhouette against the evening sky. “Okay, Tia, your turn!” he calls, his voice calm and encouraging.
I draw in a steadying breath, focusing on the task at hand. Gingerly, I follow his path as Leo coaxes me along the same route he took. The makeshift rope keeps me anchored, allowing me to climb without relying on my injured leg. Each move is a calculated step toward safety, a collaboration of trust and survival.
The pain in my leg is a persistent reminder of my vulnerability, but Leo’s presence above and the constant support of the lifeline encircling my waist fuels my determination. Sweat beads on my forehead as I inch my way upward, ignoring my ankle’s protests.
The world narrows to the path before me, and each foothold becomes a success, a defiance of the abyss below. I never imagined I would one day be relying on Leonardo Moretti to keep me from plummeting to my death. But I’m suddenly immensely grateful that he’s the person here with me now.
As I near the top, the taste of victory lingers on my tongue. My hands are almost within reach of the solid ground above. I look up to see Leo’s intent gaze fixed upon me. With one hand, he holds the makeshift rope as he reaches out with the other, ready to grab me as soon as I’m within reach.
Spurred on, I climb higher, pulling myself up with all my strength. I’m almost there. My uninjured foot feels around to find its next foot hold, and I find purchase before my hurt leg can give out. Then, in an instant, I feel the treacherous support crumble beneath my weight.
A shriek rips from my throat as my fingers are unable to take the sudden force of my weight. Leo’s eyes widen in fear, his lips parting, but I can’t hear him over my terrified cry.
And I plummet toward my death once again.
25
LEO
Tia’s eyes widen with terror as her grip slips, fingers losing purchase on the unforgiving surface of the cliff edge. Her scream stops my heart dead in its tracks as she begins to freefall.
Without thinking, I lunge forward, my hand shooting out to grasp her arm just in the nick of time. The force of her fall pulls me down, threatening to drag us both over the edge to our deaths. My torso slips precariously, my bare chest scraping across the coarse ground.
But I refuse to die like this.
Releasing the makeshift rope, I dig the heel of my free palm into the rocky ledge to stop my forward motion, my heart pounding in my chest.
“Leo!” Tia gasps, and I can feel her panic reverberating through her body.
“I’ve gotcha,” I growl with effort. “I won’t let go. But you’ve got to get a better grip if I’m going to pull you up.”
Tia reaches with her free hand to clasp my wrist, strengthening the bond between us as I hold her suspended in the air. My joints groan in protest from the unreasonable force of stopping her fall, followed by the need to hold Tia with one arm.
She might be light, but it’s still no walk in the park to keep her from falling now.
Gritting my teeth, I fortify myself, stabilizing my body as I shift my center of gravity.
Then, arms straining as I grip her wrist with bruising force, I use every ounce of my strength to pull her up. Adrenaline surges through me, heightening my senses, and with a burst of determination, I finally manage to haul her over the cliff edge and onto solid ground.
We collapse together, Tia falling on top of my body, her palms resting on my chest. She keeps them there, as if feeling that my heart’s still beating—we’re both alive. Our eyes connect for one long moment as we pant together, and Tia releases a breathy laugh that draws a smile to my lips.
Then she rolls to the side, collapsing backward to lie spread eagle onto the dry, rocky dirt beside me. Gasping for breath, we stare up at the sky, marveling at the fact that we’re both still alive.
Turning my head, I look at Tia sprawled by my side. Her chest rises and falls with ragged desperation. The reality of how close we came to disaster sinks in, and a shiver runs down my spine. I never anticipated I would feel the depth of the anxiety that consumes me now at the gut-wrenching realization that I almost lost her.
I can’t stand the thought.
