Page 43 of Taking the Heat

Babette lowered down and the guys picked her up. Moving together, they walked us all out to the centre of the pool. We were surprisingly steady and I looked up to the keys, hanging close to my face.

‘Tara!’ Chris yelled. ‘Can you reach?’

‘Nearly …’ I stretched my hand up. ‘I need another few inches.’

‘Can you get up on any higher on Babette?’

‘Um, I’m not sure—’

Babette broke in. ‘Yes, she can. Come on, put your foot here.’ She anchored a hand at her hip. ‘I’ll push you up, you can stand,oui?’

‘Okay …’ Tentatively, I moved my feet to her waiting hands, and tried to straighten up. Wobbling, I clutched Babette for balance. ‘Shit! Guys, I don’t like this!’

‘You can do it, babe. Try again.’

With Chris’ comforting words echoing up, I gave it another go. Babette pressed her head back into my stomach, giving me a little extra point for balance. With one arm on her shoulder, I reached the other one up.

My fingers closed around the metal key and I squeaked in surprise. ‘I got one! I got it!’

Everyone around me exploded in cheers as I yanked the key free and dropped it to the water below. Quick as I could, I repeated the process, collecting another two keys.

‘Ten seconds!’ cried Miles.

‘One more, babe!’

The rest of the keys hung further than I could reach. The closest one glinted tantalisingly at me over my right shoulder.

I could have left it. I had a key already—I didn’t need a name. But when I looked down, I saw Dante’s horrid face smirking up at me and I wanted the name. I wanted so desperately to hear that I wouldn’t have to prostitute myself with such a revolting excuse for a human being.

So I went for it. Leaning back, I strained my arm to its very limit. My fingers brushed the key and it swung away. ‘No!’

I threw myself backward and my hand closed around the cool metal. For a second I gripped the key, triumphant. Then I fell.

Babette shrieked as I peeled away from her back, and everything slowed down as I dropped through the air. I could see the horrified faces of the other contestants and the surface of the pool rising up to meet me.

‘Tara!’ Chris’ voice was the last thing I heard before I hit the water, slamming down to the bottom. There was a clunk as my head struck the bottom of the pool and I had time to observe Chris’ beautiful feet swishing towards me as the world turned black.

Chapter 15

Transcript of Tara M’s video diary: Day 10

So, that was four days ago. I was unconscious for all the exciting bits—Chris carrying meBaywatch-style from the water, the emergency helicopter to the nearest hospital, the CT scans. The first thing I remember was waking up to doctors asking stupid questions and shining lights in my eyes. When they were satisfied I knew who and where I was, they sent me to the ward to recover. I fell asleep en route, the exhaustion sneaking up and smacking me down.

The next day I woke up in a narrow bed in an empty ward. Chris slumped in a plastic chair, asleep next to me. Across the aisle, one lonely camera guy filmed me quietly—which, considering the nature of this show, was actually pretty considerate of the producers.

I pushed up into a sitting position and white stars crowded my vision, forcing me down again. Tentatively, I raised a hand to the back of my head and felt the massive lump lurking underneath my hair. ‘Ow.’

‘Tara!’ Chris bolted awake, flying from his chair to the bed, his bloodshot eyes searching me. ‘How do you feel? Do you need any pain meds?’ With day-old stubble on his strong chin, he looked like hell.

‘I’m okay, I think. I don’t want to run a marathon or anything, but I’m pretty good. Have you been here all night?’

‘Yeah, I only just fell asleep an hour ago. I didn’t want you to wake up alone.’ He ran a hand through his hair, which was mussed up in the most adorable way. ‘Do you remember what happened?’

A flurry of images hit me: the key, the fall, the sharp pain of my head connecting with the tiles. ‘I don’t think I could forget it if I tried.’

Chris coughed and I could see emotion wreaking havoc inside him. ‘Babe, I’m so sorry. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have pushed you to climb higher, to grab that fourth key. I’m sorry.’

He dropped his head into his hands, too ashamed to even look at me, and my heart broke for him. Of course it wasn’t his fault—it was my choice to risk everything for that last key.

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