Avenged (Altered #2)(9)

“Let’s go.” He shuffled over to the ledge, doing a bit of a bouncing hop-step. “Follow me,” he repeated.

He dove off the edge.

He’d always loved zip-lining and doing it in the dark was the best. He’d only jumped at night twice, but there was something about diving into the blackness, of letting his body fall into the abyss, that appealed to him. He could let go, feel nothing but the air whipping past him. Up high, attached to his harness, he was unable to control everything, even if he wanted to. It was frightening and exhilarating all at once.

As he twisted through the trees—down, down, down—he finally allowed himself a moment to think about Kitty, outside her line of hearing.

The unexpected reaction he was having to her was inconvenient. Yes, Kitty was pretty, gorgeous even. But this wasn’t about that. He’d come here to right a wrong. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about what happened to her, and it had eaten him up inside.

When they met, she’d had eyes for his roommate, Jeremy. That jerk had never been any good for anyone. When Nick had tried to tell her, to give her a heads up, it had come out wrong. Kitty had seen him as some overbearing dickhead when he’d only been trying to protect her.

Jeremy had been a wild card, he’d known that. He’d gotten into the kind of trouble that he couldn’t talk his way out of, which made him capable of anything. Nick knew that Jeremy couldn’t be trusted with Seth and his friends’ secret, and yet he’d done nothing. If he’d spoken up, maybe he could have saved them some trouble.

Kitty wouldn’t be here, obviously malnourished. Despite what she’d been through, her features remained haunting, her stare infinitely intuitive. It tugged at his heart.

He forced himself to stop thinking about that. She hadn’t wanted anything to do with him months ago, and she didn’t want anything to do with him now. Making it about attraction…it was distracting when they couldn’t afford distractions. He would get her out of here, and that would be the end of it. Debt repaid.

He shook his head, preparing himself to think of her as one of his sisters, as another soldier. Or even as his grandmother.

But if he ever got his hands on whoever starved her, he’d rip them apart.

As he reached the tree where he’d anchored the end of the cable, almost three hundred yards from the roof where they’d begun, he hit the spring mechanism at the end that stopped him.

He quickly unhooked, wiped his sweaty palms on his legs. He moved, positioning himself to catch her when she arrived.

He waited. And waited.

After long moments passed, his heart pounded in his ears. Where the hell was she?

Had she panicked? Balked? Had she waited too long and been discovered?

He knew this was a lot for her, but Kitty had to be one of the strongest people he’d ever met. She heard what people thought, their awful and wonderful things, and she didn’t buckle under the weight of it. She’d been here, in this hellish place, a captive, for months. Yet, she’d still been able to get lippy with him when he’d ordered her around. He’d hoped that would be the case. Better her with her back up than curled into a ball.

But he saw it in her. That spark, that thing that divided the soldiers who survived from the ones who didn’t. Kitty was a fighter.

She’d jump. She had to.

He listened to the night, but only silence met him.

He hated times like this, moments when he felt helpless. He’d led her to her escape. But he couldn’t make her take the last step. She’d have to do it herself.

Maybe he should have pushed for a tandem harness. They’d disregarded it, afraid it would be too hard to get into in the darkness, too awkward to attach to the cable, and waste too much valuable time. But at least he could have been sure that she would be out of that complex.

When he began to think that he might have to abandon the zip-line, figure out a way to go back for her, he heard it—the unmistakable hiss of the carabiner on the cable. He exhaled, closed his eyes, and offered a silent prayer of thanks to the guy upstairs.

That a girl.

In the moonlight, he watched her slight form descend toward him, and he caught her, holding her for a moment, his hands curling instinctively. He allowed himself another breath in, his relief overwhelming.

“You did it. Way to go.” He couldn’t help the pride.

“You told me it was the only way down.” Still defensive and prickly.

Why couldn’t she take praise? “Yes, but you could have decided not to do it.”

“I wasn’t staying there.” She pushed out of his arms. The angle of the cable forced her to stand on her tiptoes as she attempted to get away from him. He tried not to let that bother him, but it did. He dropped his arms.

She’d just left a horrible situation. She needed patience.

“Let me help you.” He pulled his knife out of his pocket and cut the cable. She dropped to the ground as the line returned up the hill. When he’d requested equipment, he’d insisted on the retracting cable wire. That way, they wouldn’t be able to track them as easily.

“Thanks.” She didn’t sound appreciative, though.

He sighed. It sure would be easier if she didn’t have a chip on her shoulder.

“I don’t have a chip on my shoulder.”

Christ. “Right. Sorry.”

Focus. There was no time for this conversation. Time to go up another tree.