Page 87 of Tactical Lies

Or at least gave her a fighting chance.

The man who had knocked her over the cliff, who had planned on taking her out with him, couldn’t survive all the bullets she’d shot into him, and Connor’s shot had merely finished what she’d started. But even in death, the man had tried to take her away from him.

Becca had lost her grip.

Been falling.

And purely on instinct he’d snatched out a hand and managed to grab hold of her wrist.

Now she was swinging wildly, dangling from his hand, and he’d dropped his grip on the flashlight, unable to hold it, his weapon, and Becca.

Of course, Becca was number one, the weapon was number two because even though all six men were dead, he didn't trust that more wouldn't come. He needed to be able to protect Becca against any threat and the only thing the flashlight provided was light.

So even though it had been a no-brainer to drop it in preference to his girl and his weapon it meant he couldn’t see Becca very well. She was nothing more than the nickname he’d always called her, a pale shadowy circle, like faint moonlight, hanging below him.

Connor didn't need to be able to see her to know how scared she was.

He could feel her panic beating down on him as surely as the rain.

“Hold on, moonlight,” he grunted out, struggling to maintain his grip. Not only was he holding her entire weight with the arm that had been shot, but she was swinging wildly, her fear making her panic, and the rain made everything, including her skin, slippery.

“I’m going to fall, I'm sorry,” she babbled, her voice shrill above the howl of the storm.

“Why are you sorry, honey?” he asked as he stretched out on his stomach to stabilize himself better. Although it felt wrong to set his weapon down, safe was the last thing Connor felt right now, he knew he needed both hands to get Becca up on solid ground.

“Because I should have told you earlier that I wanted a second chance for us.”

“You told me when you were ready,” he assured her, reaching down with his now free hand.

“I was ready earlier, I just … I couldn’t say the words.”

“Then you weren't really ready.” Whether she’d been able to say the words or not, he’d known she was going to give him the chance he craved to rebuild what his stupid decision twelve years ago had cost them. He’d also been prepared to wait as long as it took for her to be in a place where she could say those words and mean them.

“I love you,” she said with so much conviction that his heart felt like it was bursting.

“I love you, too, my beautiful, bright moonlight. Always and forever.”

“Always and forever,” she echoed.

“I won’t let you fall, Becca, but I need you to help me, okay?” There was no time for him to work on soothing her, and the reality was, she wasn't going to calm down until she was no longer hanging over the edge of a cliff anyway.

“O-okay,” she agreed.

“Reach up with your free hand and find mine. It should be about level with where I'm holding your wrist. When you feel it, I want you to grab onto me and not let go. I mean it, Becca. You don’t let go for anything,” he warned.

“What if … what if I’m going to fall?”

“Then we fall together.” It was that simple. As far as he was concerned, he didn't intend to live out the rest of his life without Becca being part of it. Either he got her up there with him and they both survived the night, or they both plunged over the edge, and their souls would be together in the next life.

“But—”

“No buts, Becca. Together. Always and forever.”

“Always and forever,” she echoed again.

A moment later, he felt her fingertips brushing against his hand and he quickly snagged a hold of them. After being out in the cold and the rain for so long, it was a wonder he could feel anything at all. His skin was a mixture of numb and aching, the pounding rain had been almost bruising in its strength, especially after spending so much time out in it.

“Got you,” he told her, now holding her wrist and her hand securely. “I’m going to start moving backward, pulling you up with me.”

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