Tying the Knot (33 page)

“Noah!”

“Over here!” He glanced at Anne. Her eyes, brimming with alarm, were fixed to his. She’d let go of his shirt and scooted away. He missed her already.

“Noah!” Latisha emerged from the trail, running at full power. Her eyes were huge white orbs in her tear-streaked face. “We need you!”

She skidded to a stop and, without a pause, grabbed Anne’s arm and pulled. “Come. Now. Darrin’s stuck on the wall of death and he’s going to die!”

What had those kids done now?

Noah dashed past them, up the trail, his worst fears leading the way.

Twilight had turned menacing. Dark shadows cloaked the ground as Noah ran, tripped, stumbled, his mind already seeing Darrin a crumpled mess of blood and bones at the summit of the wall of death.

He heard screams, the echo of his own panic as he raced to the cliff edge. Over the lake, the sky was a bruised canopy, showering darkness over the rock wall. Noah dropped to his knees and looked over. His heart nearly stopped in his chest. “Darrin!”

The kid was clinging to the face of the wall like a monkey, both hands fisted white with effort. His feet spread-eagled—one toe in a foothold in the rock, the other on a two-inch ledge. He was pinned to the wall by sheer terror.

Darrin looked up at Noah, desperation etched in his plump dark face and terror in his eyes. Thirty feet below, scattered like squirrels on the rocks, the campers had taken positions to urge Darrin up or down, Noah didn’t know which. Melinda, ten feet back from the cliff, huddled with Ross. Both looked as if they knew the inevitable.

Darrin was going to fall.

And kill himself.

Noah kept his voice calm, easy. “Hold on, Darrin. I’m coming to get you.” Noah backed up slowly, praying he didn’t send debris over on the kid. He turned around in time to see Anne and Latisha emerge from the trail in a dead run. Anne had a fierce look on her face. For some reason, it gave him hope.

“He’s stuck,” Latisha said, gasping. “He climbed about halfway up and can’t get down.”

Latisha shook, and Anne pulled the girl to herself and held her tight. Latisha’s voice hiccupped between sobs. “George dared him. He told him that if he could climb the wall, he’d get Shelly.”

Noah made a face that betrayed the sick feeling in his gut. Get Shelly? Like she was a prize? He clenched his jaw. Right. This was a dare, a sick game. Noah grabbed his climbing harness that was still there from this afternoon’s climb. He snapped two carabiners into his D ring and attached a rope to one. “I need someone to belay me!” Thankfully, the ropes had been secured under the light of the afternoon sun. He ran toward the edge and called, “Bucko, I need a belayer!”

“I’ll do it.” Anne had already hitched her webbing tight.

Noah looked at her, a shivering, soggy ball of grit. “Okay. I’ll strap you in.” Doubt lodged thick fingers into his chest, but what choice did he have?

Anne sat on the ground. He hooked her into the secure line, a rope fixed around a tree that would anchor her to the tree and keep her from sliding forward. Then he looped the belay rope around her. “You remember how to do this?” He’d given her a rudimentary lesson on belaying during the ropes course, but then again, she’d nearly plunged to her death. He wondered if she remembered anything from that day. He certainly would never forget the second he’d lost his heart.

Obviously she was more astute than he gave her credit for. “Yes. Don’t worry. I learned how to belay while I was an EMT.”

Oh yeah. Sitting there, gripping the rope, her feet planted, he nearly forgot that she was a city girl with an aversion to bugs. Her eyes glittered when she spoke. “I won’t let you fall.”

Oh, how he needed to hear that. Because right now he felt like he was teetering on the edge of an ugly plunge into darkness. He nodded at her, unable to speak. Noah picked up another harness, hooked on a carabiner, and clipped it into his rig.

“Noah, help me!”

With Darrin’s frantic words, Noah’s gaze riveted to Anne. Her calm, you-can-do-this expression centered him. Jaw tight, he looped his rappel line through the figure-eight rappelling carabiner and snapped it onto his harness. Fisting the rope in his right hand, he hesitated at the edge of the cliff, eyes still on Anne.

“I won’t let you fall,” she mouthed.

He could hear Darrin sucking in breaths, moments away from hyperventilating. Noah stepped over and moved down the rock wall swiftly, thankful for the months of classes he’d taken. He stopped beside Darrin, close enough to reach him but far enough that the kid couldn’t take a diving leap at him. Noah anchored his rappel line around his leg, then unhooked the harness.

“Darrin, very slowly we’re going to get this on you.”

Sweat glistened on Darrin’s face. His body shook, a bad sign that time ticked his life away. Noah held the harness at Darrin’s foot. “Put your foot in this.”

“I can’t.” The boy’s voice was so weak Noah could barely hear it.

“Yes you can. You got this far; you’ve hung on this long. You can do this.”

Darrin shook his head, and for a wild second, Noah thought the kid would spring off his position and into his arms, dragging them both down the cliff to a messy splat on the rocks below. “Calm down. You’re gonna be fine.”

Darrin sniffled.

“Listen, pal, pull it together.” The last thing they needed right now was for Darrin to loosen his hold, to surrender to his fears. “You have three secure points. Just lift this foot and I’ll slide the harness on. C’mon. We’ll go slowly.”

“I’m . . . gonna fall.”

“No you’re not. I’m here, and I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

When Darrin met his eyes, Noah saw fear so deep it went right to his soul. This was about more than clinging to a ledge. Why hadn’t he seen it earlier? Darrin had turned away from him a week ago. But now Noah realized that Darrin had wanted Noah to run after him. Wanted him to prove that he was tougher than Darrin’s rejection.

Oh yeah, Noah was up to that fight.

“Put your foot in here—now.”

Darrin lifted his foot, just an inch, and Noah slid the harness under it. “Good. Now the other one.”

Darrin hung on with white fists and complied. Noah slid the harness up his leg and tightened it.

Sweat dripped off Noah’s forehead, into his eyes. Unhooking the belay line from the D ring, he clipped it onto Darrin’s. “You’re hooked in. Now I want you to climb up.”

“What?”

Noah narrowed his eyes at him. He felt his heart beat for the first time in ten minutes. “Listen. I know this started out about a girl. About Shelly. But I want you to finish it. For yourself. You can do this.”

Darrin’s eyes were huge with terror.

“I promise you that we’re not going to let you fall. But you gotta climb up. Don’t let this thing beat you. You be the man it takes to overcome.” Noah backed away, far enough so the kid couldn’t touch him even if he jumped. “Climb.”

Darrin blinked at him. Then with a flicker of determination that lit Noah’s soul, he looked up, pushed with his legs, and reached for the next hold.

“Yes.”
Yes!
“You have a hold to your left. A crack. Wedge your hand in and make a fist.”

Darrin inched up. Noah’s hands were slick so he fought for holds as he climbed up beside Darrin. He heard movement and saw Bucko leaning over from the top. His expression betrayed guilt.

C’mon, Darrin—make it. For all of us.

Darrin moved with quiet desperation. Creeping up the rock face, Noah urged him on in low tones. Thank the Lord, Anne was on the other end of Darrin’s line—if anyone could secure the kid, it was his Anne.

Who loved him.

Noah fought a wave of emotions and found a toehold. He could hear several voices at the top now, angry tones. Obviously the group from the bottom had scrambled up the path to the top of the cliff and were pointing fingers at each other. Street kids were blamers, and this near tragedy had serious potential to detonate into catastrophe. Noah tensed when he heard words he’d outlawed at the camp rippling the fabric of the night, echoing foully across the lake.

Darrin clawed his way up the cliff face, dragging Noah’s heart along. When he reached the top, Bucko hauled him up by his harness as if he weighed no more than a few ounces and clasped the kid in a bear hug that made even Noah dizzy.

Darrin finally collapsed onto the ground, breathing in great gusts.

Noah plopped down beside him, totally unraveled. “You okay?”

Darrin nodded. “Thanks.”

“You did well getting up that cliff. I’m proud of you.”

Darrin looked at him with a hungry look, devouring Noah’s words.

“Darrin, you loser!” George came up behind him and hit the kid hard on the back. “Man, you had to have Noah go down and baby-sit? What’s with that?”

Noah turned, and the expression on his face must have scared George because he backed away, hands up. “I’m cool, man. Just funnin’ with him.”

“It’s not funny, George,” Shelly said, looking every inch a dangerous she-cat about to pounce. “You goaded him into it and he nearly died.”

“Listen—” The word that came out of George’s mouth made Noah flinch. “You back off. You’ve done nothing but tease and flirt this entire time. I’m sick of your mouth.”

Shelly looked slapped and, in a move that sucked Noah back a decade, she clamped her hands on her hips, straightened her shoulders, and jutted out her jaw. “You weren’t so sick of it a few days ago.”

Dry mouthed and sick to the center of his chest, Noah stared at George. What had these two been up to?

Anne had leaped to her feet, strained at her belay anchor toward Shelly. Her expression looked ferocious as she looked at George, then at Noah. “Calm down, George.” There she was, the EMT from a year ago, looking trouble straight in the eye, too gritty to back down even though she was fixed to a solid oak tree like a dog on a leash.

“Hey, baby, I’m cool.” George shrugged, but his black eyes glittered, cold as steel. “I don’t like white girls, anyway. They’re skin and bone and nothing but chitchat.” His look ranged to Latisha, standing behind Shelly like a warrior. “But Latisha, now she’s yum.”

Noah heard Darrin’s verbal reaction a second before Darrin rushed George. Noah didn’t have time to stop the big kid from tackling George. They went down hard. Bucko immediately hauled Darrin up around the waist. Noah grabbed George, who littered the air with his filthy language. He pinned the kid’s arms back. “Settle down, George. Just chill.”

“Let go of me, man. I’m sick of him. He’s either with us or he’s out.”

Noah froze. “With us?”

George wrenched out of his grip. “Yeah.” He glared at Noah. “Man, you’re so brainwashed, you can’t even see brothers.” He flicked a hand sign, physical graffiti that sunk Noah’s heart to his toes. “Vice Lords, man. I’m family.”

“No. You’re. Not.”

So this was the basis of Darrin and George’s friendship. It wasn’t about Shelly, not really. This dare had gang initiation written all over it.

Noah balled his fists, fighting a wave of fury. Words, accusation, names boiled in his chest, but to open his mouth would be to spew forth ugliness.
God, help. Give me self-control. Wisdom.

Bucko released Darrin. The kid was wild-eyed, breathing hard, glaring at George.

George flicked Darrin a smug look.

Darrin exploded. He ran at George, hit him with a smacking blow across the face. George stumbled, stunned, then lunged at Darrin like a panther. Bucko dove in, grabbing at George, and got kicked in the face.

Noah grabbed George’s shirt and heard it rip as he yanked back hard.

George whirled and hit Noah—a surprising, brain-rattling blow for a thirteen-year-old. “Get away from me!” Then he dove at Darrin again, landed two hands against his chest.

The air in Darrin’s lungs puffed out as he stumbled back toward the edge. His eyes widened, his hands clawed the air, searching for purchase.

Noah lunged for him.
Please, God, no!
His hands closed around Darrin’s deathly scream as the boy fell over the cliff into the night.

24

Anne knelt beside Darrin, her heart in her throat. He’d fallen at least thirty feet and landed in a pocket of brush, his head dangerously near a jagged boulder that would have split his skull like a cantaloupe. Anne squashed that image and braced Darrin’s head with her knees, pulling back slightly with her fingers on his jawbone, nudging the base of the jaw upward to open his airway.

“Is he dead?” Noah’s voice emerged in a throat-tight whisper.

Anne leaned over, her ear next to Darrin’s mouth, her eyes glued to his chest. A thin, raspy breath. She pressed her fingertips to his throat and found a thready pulse. “No, but he’s hurt badly.”

Noah dug his hands into his hair, as if trying to keep calm. “What do you need?”

A back board, an IV, a blood-pressure cuff, and how about a helicopter?
She blew out a breath and fought for calm. Darrin’s body lay at an ugly angle, and even from this position, Anne could see he had at least a broken leg, if not a skull fracture or a broken back. “We need to stabilize him so I can assess his wounds.”

Still attached to his rope, Noah had rappelled down the cliff after Darrin, moving like lightning while Shelly, Latisha, and the rest of the campers screamed. Bucko tackled George, but he didn’t have to pin him. The kid had gone weak with what he’d done. Completely ashen.

Katie had had the good sense to unhook Anne from the anchor rope so Anne could run down the path as fast as her hiking boots would carry her. Poor Noah was still barefoot from his dip in the water. She didn’t want to guess what his feet looked like after running up the trail and scraping down a cliff.

She had found him kneeling next to Darrin, his face twisted with worry. She hadn’t paused to try and assure him, not knowing what to say but fearing the worst.

“Listen,” she said to Noah, the man who, ten minutes ago, had looked like a bona fide hero as he climbed up the cliff with a triumphant Darrin. How quickly life could explode. She kept her voice low and steady, hoping to keep him centered. “I don’t know how badly he’s hurt, but we need to get him to a hospital and fast. Call Dan. Have him send a chopper in.”