Rio couldn’t waste time lamenting the mess they’d made. Grace was the priority and then they had to get the hell out of here before everything went to shit.
Terrence yanked out a coil of rope with a rappel hook on the end and quickly fastened it around his waist. He took several steps back, dug his heels into the soil and then wrapped the extra length around the base of an aspen and set the hook into the bark. He tossed the other end to Rio.
Rio secured the flashlight to his leg, pointing downward so his descent would be illuminated. Then he secured the end of the rope around his waist, yanked to make sure it was securely knotted, and then edged backward until his heels hung over the side.
Just before he started downward, Decker and Alton hit the scene. They rushed past Diego and Browning, who were standing watch, and each grabbed one of Rio’s hands to help him over the side.
They leaned down as he made his descent, holding onto his wrists until he had sure footing and he was certain that Terrence could support his weight.
The light bounced crazily as he continued downward. He glanced over his shoulder to see Grace still lying on the small ledge. He just hoped to hell it held both their weight.
He pushed off the side of the cliff when he reached her and lowered himself enough that he straddled the outcropping. Immediately he pressed his fingers to her neck, feeling for her pulse, and was reassured by the steady thud.
“Grace. Wake up. I’ve come to get you out of here but I need your help here.”
When he didn’t receive a response, his lips tightened in frustration. At the top, Decker and Browning shone their lights down. He dug his feet into the side, finding purchase, and then he carefully let go of the rope to slide his arms underneath her limp body.
Mentally counting to three, he hoisted her up and then arranged her over one shoulder so he could hold the rope with a free hand. He held her tightly, his arm a steel band over the backs of her legs.
“Pull us up,” he called up to his teammates.
Toe over toe, he dug into the side as the rope inched higher. His muscles bulged with the strain of bearing both their weight. The rope cut into his skin and his fingers were numb from his grip.
Let me die. Please.
At first he thought she’d said it aloud. It startled him into stillness. His toes dragged as they hoisted him higher and he had to scramble to regain his footing and assist them as they pulled him and Grace the remaining way.
He was suddenly swamped with desolation so acute that he couldn’t breathe. Pain. Fear. Regret. Hopelessness. And weariness that went soul deep.
He knew then that he’d heard Grace’s innermost thoughts. He was feeling what she felt. And her sorrow was so great that it staggered him.
Her tears were locked inside her, but he felt each one. Memories of all she’d endured flashed through his mind until he had to close his eyes to control his reeling senses.
I won’t go back.
Her voice whispered through his mind, so broken that he wanted to bellow in rage. He wanted to crawl up over the side of this damn cliff and rip apart the savages who’d pursued her so relentlessly and kill them all over again. The men who’d broken her spirit and made her even now want to die rather than endure more.
He knew that Nathan Kelly had been able to communicate with Grace’s sister, Shea, telepathically, but he hadn’t considered how or that he and Grace might be able to communicate the same way. It hadn’t been important at the time. He’d been gripped by the urgency to find her and keep her safe. Nothing else had mattered at that moment.
Tentatively, he reached out with his mind and spoke gently and reassuringly to her.
You’ll never go back to those bastards, Grace. You’re safe now. I’m here to help you. Don’t give up. You’ll get through this.