No Perfect Hero(107)

We hit the edge of the cliff hard and skid on our heels, looking down.

The truck's caught in the thick, gnarled tree roots that jut out from the cliff's wall, lying on its side against them like they’ve formed a safety net. A very thin one.

I swear to fuck I hear the roots groaning, bowing, threatening to snap under the truck’s weight. It’s so far down I don’t know if we can reach them in time.

I see Stewart, unconscious behind the wheel, slumped and hanging by the seatbelt, his forehead bleeding. Then Tara and Haley, crushed against the passenger window, the glass damn near the only thing holding them up, keeping them from falling through.

I drop to my knees frantically, looking at Doc. “Hold me by the ankles.”

He arches a brow. “Highly impractical. We need—”

“We don’t have time,” I snarl. “Ankles! I’ll have to be the rope myself.”

And then I go over the edge. There’s not a second to spare, and I can’t lose my girls.

There’s one lurching moment of free fall and then Doc has me.

He's using all his strength to grip tight around my ankles, holding me suspended as I lay my body against the cliff wall and stretch down, reaching my arms out.

“Haley!” I call. “Climb up!”

She looks up at me through the window of the truck, shaking her head. “I can’t! I’m cuffed. I can’t climb!”

Shit. My heart drops as she looks at me desperately, then turns a wan, shaky smile on her niece. “Baby, go. Go to Warren. Let him lift you.”

“If we could hurry this up,” Doc says, his hold on my ankles tightening. “I've no shortage of muscle, but my endurance can't last forever.”

Tara shakes her head quickly, sobbing. “I don’t want to leave you, Auntie Hay...”

“It’ll be okay, kit,” Hay promises with a watery smile, her eyes welling. “Go.”

“Come on, Tara,” I coax, stretching out my hands, while Tara climbs up the cab of the truck, squirming over Stewart’s bulk to push herself out of the window. The truck sways, shaking, and she clutches with terror onto the rear-view mirror before tentatively stretching a hand out toward me. I strain, trying to reach her. It takes several passes before I finally grasp her wrist. “Gotcha!”

As quick as I can, I yank her up. She’s light, at least, and I practically toss her up to where she can climb me, grabbing onto my jeans and my legs and clambering up, whimpering, until she’s over the cliff.

But that leaves Hay, sweet Hay. She looks up at me determinedly.

“You’re going to fall, Warren,” she says, oddly calm. “I'm too heavy. It’s...it's okay.”

It's fucking not!

“No! I’m not leaving you, dammit. Haley, just try! Please.”

There's a sickening crack – a root snapping – and the truck jolts. Haley lets out a gasp, echoed by Tara’s squeal from above.

I slip an inch, Doc swearing as he hauls himself back. “Warren...hurry.”

“Just give me another second!” I yell, straining toward Haley. “Haley…Hay, come on!”

Swallowing, she nods, looking around before starting to squirm up using only her feet, her arms bound behind her back.

She stops, twisting, curling herself up in a ball and using the truck for leverage until she finds just the right angle. Then she loops the cuffs under her feet, pulls her arms out in front of her.

It’s smart. It gives her some way to grab, to reach for me. The cost is precious seconds that actually take her farther away, leaving my guts dropping as the truck slips another inch.

“Hay!” I belt out her name again.

Determined, grunting under her breath, she climbs, wriggling past Stewart and catching the handle to throw the door open. She's out.

But she can’t quite make it when she's not as small as Tara. With a soft cry, she reaches her cuffed hands toward me and – falls fucking short.

Damn!

I can’t reach her. She can’t reach me.

There's at least three inches of space between us, this tiny hellish gap that might as well be bigger than the space between the stars.

“Hold on. I'm coming,” I whisper. “Doc, I'm going in!”

I lunge, only for Doc to cry out, pinning me down by one leg as my weight shifts.

Haley strains upward – and finally I catch the chain between her cuffs, pulling hard.

Big mistake.

There’s a mighty crack, a shattering, and the truck goes tumbling down with Stewart still in it, a shining pinprick that slams into the valley below with a deafening crash.

Holy fuck.

Haley dangles from my grip, suspended over hundreds of feet of open air, the only thing holding us up is Doc’s desperate, sliding weight on my leg.

“Warren,” Doc says tightly. “I can’t—”

“I’m here!” Blake cries behind him, dropping down next to Doc – and suddenly there’s another pair of hands on me, grabbing me, holding tight and helping stabilize me while I grapple with my hold on Hay, my entire body iced over with fear for her.

“Come on, darlin'. Just a little more.”

Managing to get her by one wrist, then the other, I throw everything I've got into it.

Then I’m dragging her against me, my poor girl sobbing as I loop her cuffed hands around my neck and yell up to Doc and Blake.