Butterflies in Honey (Growing Pains #3)(82)

“Krista, you’re getting hysterical. Finish strong,” Sean prodded.

Krista looked up and glared at him. She was answered with a sexual smile. He liked when she was riled up. He liked the sex that followed.

If there was ever a time that she was not in the mood, it was, hands down, right then.

Centering herself, because that was a good thing to do before a person died, Krista inched out onto the board, petrified. Her hands were up for balance, but she didn’t need it. This wasn’t a physical problem she was having, it was all in her head. If that beam were one foot off the ground, she could probably do yoga on it, or dance on it, and never waver. The air beneath her feet had her shaking. But she was braving it. She was facing it. For him. For their team.

She didn’t care that Sean got that loving look. Not right then.

“Damn you all. You’re nothing but a bunch of ass**les!” she yelled.

“Half way, Krista!” Georgie shouted.

“I think I peed myself again,” she whined. “I have bladder issues this high up.”

Sean was leaning out toward her with his hand out. Krista inched, slowly but surely. Little by little. One step at a time.

“Almost there, Geegee!” she heard Marcus shout.

“Marcus? What are you doing here?” She asked the air.

“Just watching you on your death bed, doll.”

“C’mon, Krista. Listen to my voice. Almost there,” Sean called softly.

She kept inching to that hand. Then she took a big step and grabbed it. She was quickly reeled in and put on a large, hard surface. She wasn’t held this time. She wasn’t kissed, either. She was sad and glad at the same time. With the audience, though, it wouldn’t have been a good idea.

Krista hugged the tree and waited. Dean showed up two seconds later.

“That was fast, Dean,” Krista mumbled into the bark.

“Yeah. I like heights.”

Dean moved around Krista, hooked up his safety rope to another part of the torture chamber. The next sound was a zzzzzzz and a yodel.

“What the hell is going on?” Krista asked no one.

“Dean just zipped out. Your turn. Or do you want Donald to go first?” Sean asked next to Krista’s ear.

“Just get me out of here, Sean. I need solid ground.” Krista was out of stamina.

Sean led her along the tree. The platform they were on was the largest yet, though still not large. Two people could walk abreast around the tree in most areas, and there was a long haired man sitting next to a rope leading out into the abyss. He held it out to Krista.

“I hate my life,” she said weakly.

Sean basically pushed her to the man and held her still while he exchanged her safety rope for a zip line rope.

“Okay Krista, choose your flight. You want to sit on the edge and fall off, or jump?” The man asked with a smokers gravelly voice.

“Leaping. Screw it.”

“O-kay. At your pace.” The man sat back on his tiny stool and watched the proceedings in boredom.

At the edge of the platform was nothing but air. Oh, and a bird flapping by. She was standing at the height that birds flew with nothing but a bit of rope and some straps keeping her from falling to her doom. How unnatural was that?

The zip line had a steep fall directly off the platform, then bowed out to a distant tree. Krista had only four words available to her at the sight, “I hate my life.”

Nothing to it. She closed her eyes, prayed, and felt a surge of panic and fear as she forced herself to step off the platform.

The world fell away.

She was falling. Her stomach wasn’t falling with her—it was tossed up into the air, along with all the blood in her body, causing an unbearable tickling sensation. Then the rope caught and she was rushing, zooming downward at a million miles an hour, screaming the whole way. Air was rushing by her head, whipping at her face. Her fingers were painfully clutching the rope attached to her harness, her toes were tingling. She felt like she was in a wind tunnel, falling. Always falling. Falling and zooming. Until she slowed and wasn’t falling. She was climbing. Slightly but not slowly, climbing.

She slowed to a fluffy stop, the wind subsiding and her body recollecting itself.

Then she started falling backward.

“WHAT THE HELL?!”

She zipped back down, eyes still shut tight, until she hit the lowest point in the line again, went up a ways, and slowly started back down again. The demon ride was nearing its end. Krista waited, tensely, until it finally stopped for good, and then with eyes still shut, said, “Someone get me down.”

There was clanking, there was movement nearby, there was talking—Krista saw none of it. She wasn’t opening her eyes for anyone.

“Kay girl, you gotta climb down,” a man’s voice said.

Krista peeked open her right eye. There was a ladder next to her feet with a gruff looking nature man next to her. He had dreads and a shirt with a pot leaf on it.

“I’ll help you on the ladder.” He put his arms in the air for her to grab.

Krista was down so fast she left the guy at the top with wide eyes. She flattened herself onto the ground, closed her eyes, and enjoyed the dirt.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Later that evening Krista was showered, napped, and rested. She’d left the ropes course to a crowd full of cheers—apparently everyone could hear her screaming and yelling from up in the trees, and they wanted to check out the ruckus. Marcus led the cheering team that wanted her down safe. He wouldn’t comment on those who didn’t.