Page 21 of Citadel

It’s the rough authority of his voice more than anything else that breaks through my paralyzed fear. I let go with the hand of my uninjured arm and use the precarious foothold I’ve found to push up, lunging upward toward his hand.

The rock under my foot breaks off. More ground crumbles down on top of me. I don’t reach his hand. I grasp for nothing but air.

And I’m falling. I’m falling.

Or I should be. If a powerful grip hadn’t closed over my wrist.

Cole. He’s grabbed the hand I was reaching up with. My arm wrenches painfully as the weight of my body hangs from it.

I have no more support from the cliff face. I’m being held up by nothing but Cole’s one hand.

I’m small, but it’s clearly an effort for him to hold on. The big, molded muscles in his arm flex and tense as he gives an extended grunt.

“Don’t you dare let her go!” Breanna’s voice. Sharp. Scared.

He’s not letting me go even though it looks like it might rip his body apart. I can’t see anything but his strong arm. The dirty perspiration beaded on his skin. The grip he has on my small, white hand.

My shoulder is strained so much I’m afraid it will get torn off, so I manage to reach up with my other arm so I can split the weight between both shoulders.

“Good girl,” he mutters. “Don’t let go.”

“I won’t.” I’m trembling so much my teeth are almost chattering. I can barely breathe. And nothing exists in the world but Cole’s strong grip. Literally keeping me alive.

I have no idea how he’s going to manage to get me up with one arm. There’s no solid cliff face for me to even help.

His arm is shaking now.

We can’t stay like this much longer.

Something has to give.

It will probably be his grip on me.

“Tell me what to do,” I rasp. If there’s something I can do to help save myself, I’ll do it.

“Just hang on. I’ve got you.” He takes a weird breath. Gives another grunt—much louder this time—and he adjusts his feet in a way I don’t expect.

I’m suddenly being swung. And with the momentum of the swing, he hauls me all the way up over the side of the cliff until I crash hard onto the grass.

Cole rolls with the motion of the swing. He lets go of the rope he’s been clinging to, but he doesn’t let go of my hand.

His big fingers are still wound around it. Holding it hard. Like he can’t let go any more than I can.

He’s gasping for air, punctuated by soft groans. His body shakes as much as mine does.

Breanna is sobbing as she runs over to me and pulls me into a hug.

I hug her back with my free arm.

Cole still has a grip on the other, and he won’t let go.

* * *

It takes us almost an hour to recover enough to start walking again.

Every muscle in my right arm is pulled, and moving it even a little hurts like hell.

I’m sure Cole’s muscles are all torn up too, but he doesn’t say a word about it. After he hauled himself to his feet, he paced up and back a few times, breathing deeply. Then, without warning, he went over to a big tree, placed one of his shoulders carefully against the trunk, and pushed against it hard with a loud grunt.

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