Page 140 of House of Cards

“Don’t do it,” I call out, still laughing as I stride through my suite.

“Fuck you!” She swings her other leg over the railing, her eyes squeezing briefly shut before she lets go.

I’m surprised her improvised sheet-rope even holds. The rain has started up again, hammering down around us as I tilt to stare over the railing.

“Are you insane?” I yell at her. The rope barely reaches halfway down the building. Even if she makes it to the end without these ridiculous knots unraveling, she still has a bone-breaking drop onto the sidewalk.

“Zoey!” I snatch at her, but she shimmies down the rope with surprising speed for someone who looks like they’re about toshit themselves. “Tell me again how don’t enjoy pain,” I mutter sourly.

I grab the rope, tightening my grip just before the knot at the railing slips.

“Stop it, or I’ll jump!” The rain plasters Zoey’s brown hair to her face as she glares up at me.

“Suicide? Reporters will have a field day.” I drag the rope up a few feet, my muscles burning, but she seems determined to climb all the way down before I can lift her back up.

Are those other knots as pitiful as the one she used for the railing?

I sure as fuck don’t want to find out.

She does a good job of glaring at me as I drag her up, but she’s run out of rope. There’s one more knot between us, and just before I reach it, it slips. Zoey lets out a startled yelp as she drops a foot before the knot catches again. The entire rope swings wildly as she holds on with a white knuckled grip.

“Jesus Christ,” I mutter, yanking even faster. “Climb back up before you fucking kill yourself!”

Her eyes flash with defiance, but her lips are trembling, too. I can’t tell if she’s being stubborn or scared, but she seems unable to move. I’m seconds away from muscle failure, but I keep at it, one hand over the other, pulling her to safety. The rain and the wind don’t help—it’s making the railing and my footing slippery as fuck.

When she’s almost within arm’s reach, I lean over the railing and extend my hand.

“Take it!” I yell when she does nothing.

“No,” she grits out.

The knot gives an ominous creak, and I swear I can see it slipping again. There’s just a corner of the sheet sticking out from the top of the knot. A tiny piece of fabric between Zoey and the sidewalk.

“Is this seriously the hill you want to fucking die on?” I snarl, leaning dangerously far over the railing. “Take my fucking hand before?—”

The knot slips.

I lunge forward, catching her wrist the same instant the rope gives way. Her sudden weight nearly pulls me over the edge. Metal digs painfully into my ribs as I hold on to both her and the balcony with all my strength.

“Got you,” I grunt.

My muscles strain as I try to haul her up, but I’m overextended, and I know if I let go of the railing, she’ll pull us both over.

“Climb, Zoey!”

She glances behind her, her cheeks ashen when she faces me again.

“Fuck,” I hear her whimper.

“You can do this.”

She grits her teeth, shaking as she desperately claws her way up my arm. As soon as she has her arm hooked around the back of my neck, I push away from the railing, dragging her to safety.

She scrambles to help, her free hand clawing for purchase, her feet pushing against the side of the building.

With a last heave, I pull her up and over.

The momentum sends us both crashing onto the balcony floor.

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