Defending Harlow (Mountain Mercenaries #4)(90)

Harlow then leaned out as far as she could without falling herself. She felt Jasper’s weight on her legs and knew if he weren’t there, she would’ve tumbled out.

“That’s it!” Lowell called from below. From way too far below. “I’ve got her. Trust me.”

She did. She trusted Lowell with her life. And with the life of the child in her arms.

Catching Lowell’s gaze, she nodded at him and, without warning the little girl, she let go of Jody’s wrists.

She wanted to squeeze her eyes closed, so she wouldn’t see what happened next, but she didn’t. Jody fell downward like a rag doll, and like a superhero from the movies that were so popular nowadays, Lowell caught her in midair. He fell backward on his ass, but he cradled Jody close to his chest, keeping her safe. Within seconds, he was standing. He put Jody down and said something to her as he pointed toward the parking lot at the end of the alley. She took off running.

“Next!” Lowell demanded.

Crying nonstop now, Harlow eased herself back inside the room. She turned to Sammie. “Your turn.”

Sammie shook her head frantically. “No! I don’t wanna!”

“You have to,” Harlow said, trying to keep her voice calm.

“No!”

Harlow was ready to simply grab her, but Milo thankfully interrupted. “You can do this, Sammie. I believe in you.”

And just like that, Sammie sniffled and turned to Harlow.

More thankful than she’d ever been in her life, she sat Sammie on the edge of the window just as she had Jody. She wasn’t much heavier than the five-year-old, but she was taller. Harlow grabbed her wrists and slowly lowered her out the window. “Ready?” she asked.

Sammie bit her lip and shook her head. “No, don’t! I changed my mind. I don’t wanna—”

Without letting her finish the sentence, Harlow let go.

It killed her. Everything inside her balked at dropping a kid out a three-story building, but the alternative was death—and that wasn’t acceptable.

Sammie screamed all the way down, which was only for around two seconds before she landed in Lowell’s arms. Once again, he stumbled and fell but popped right back up, and soon Sammie was running down the alley just as Jody had.

“My turn now, right?” Milo asked.

Harlow pulled herself back inside the window and nodded. But already she was having second thoughts. She’d seen how bad the impact was on Lowell when he’d caught the other two. And they were smaller and lighter than Milo. She had a bad feeling that there was no way he’d be able to catch either her or Jasper without hurting himself.

Looking out the window, first one way, then the other, she listened. But she couldn’t hear anything over the crackling and popping of the fire.

She had no idea if the fire department was on their way, or even there already, out front spraying water on the fire.

“Okay, Milo. Your turn.”

Without a word, the nine-year-old climbed onto the windowsill. He was coughing, and tears were streaming down his face, but he didn’t hesitate. He held up his arms. Harlow took hold of his wrists and carefully leaned out the window once more. She couldn’t lean out quite as far because Milo was heavier than the girls had been. She felt her center of gravity tipping dangerously.

“I’m ready!” Milo said, and Harlow let go.

She watched as he fell, but this time she gasped when Lowell crumpled to the ground with Milo in his arms. It took several seconds for him to move, but eventually, Milo climbed off him and headed for the end of the alley.

The second Lowell looked up at her, she knew he wasn’t going to be able to help her and Jasper.

It was exactly as she’d thought. They were too heavy, and the drop was too high. If he tried to catch them, he’d be severely injured.

She wiped her running nose and coughed. Turning away from Lowell, she held out an arm to Jasper. “Come closer to the window,” she told him.

The teenager did as she asked, and they clung to the side of the window and leaned out as far as they could. Black smoke had filled the office and was rushing out the window as if it too wanted the fresh air.

Something she’d seen on television a while ago flashed through her brain. She’d been watching a documentary on the September 11 tragedy in New York City. She’d watched in horror as the program rolled footage of people jumping out of the top floors of the Trade Center towers.

She hadn’t understood it then. Didn’t know how someone could jump from that high, knowing they’d die when they landed.

But she got it now.

The heat coming from the room behind her was almost unbearable. She was leaning as far out of the window as she could, and she still couldn’t get enough air in her lungs. Her brain was telling her to lean out farther, to get more fresh air. The idea of suffocating was terrifying, as was burning to death. She had the sudden thought that if she knew for certain she’d die quickly if she jumped out the window, she’d do it. But she wasn’t high enough. If she jumped, she’d hurt herself. Badly. But she might not die. She might be paralyzed. She’d cause more pain for herself and for her family.

But if she were one hundred floors up right now? Jumping absolutely would seem the better way to die.

Tears streamed down both her and Jasper’s faces, and Harlow knew this was it. She tried to console herself that at least she’d gotten four of the kids out.