Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 96004 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96004 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Around four in the afternoon, another call came in just as I was shaking off the rain and hoping for a nice hot cup of coffee to perk me up for the last hour or two of paperwork.
Penny’s face looked worried as I passed her desk. “There’s a report of a lone climber out on Slye Peak.”
I froze in place, immediately picturing Finn dangling on the side of the perilous rock face. I forced myself to shake off the image, realizing how ridiculous it was. Surely Finn was on set with everyone else. Besides, an experienced climber like Finn Heller wouldn’t solo climb, especially on a day like this.
“They sure the climber is alone?”
She nodded. “The lady said there’s a car in the lot at the base of Slye Creek trail. She and her daughter were hiking there and cut their visit short when the rain started. She said it’s either the climber or someone else is out on the trail, but she didn’t see anyone while they were hiking.”
I slipped my rain gear back on and headed out, trying not to feel resentment that I had to go back out in this mess because someone hadn’t planned well.
As soon as I rounded the bend on Timberline, I saw the sheer face of Slye Peak. Sure enough, there was a single climber about halfway up the climb. I was too far away to make out any details other than the fact the person was wearing an orange helmet and didn’t appear to have more than that, a pair of shorts, and climbing shoes on. Which probably meant it was a man.
Dammit.
I continued on Timberline until I saw the turnoff for the Slye Creek trailhead. As soon as I pulled in, I noticed the McLaren. Dammit. I quickly parked my own vehicle and scrambled to change into the old pair of hiking boots I kept in a bin in the back of the SUV, along with several changes of clothes and various other emergency supplies. My duty boots would get trashed on the muddy trail, and I didn’t relish spending hours cleaning them up tonight.
I tried not to scream at Finn in my head as I made my way down the trail to the base of the rock face. What the hell had he been thinking? Why didn’t he come off there when the rain started? Did he have a death wish?
Was he hurt? Was he even able to get himself down?
By the time I finally got to the climbing area, I was at a dead run flinging specks of mud up the back of my uniform pants and wiping water out of my eyes. He hung there like a dead weight, simply sitting in his harness and letting the top rope hold him. The only reason I knew he was conscious was his upright position.
“Get your ass down here,” I shouted. My voice didn’t even sound normal to my own ears. “Finn! Rappel, dammit.”
He startled and craned his neck to look down at me from where he hung at least four stories above me. “Dec?”
“Get down here. Please. Why are you here by yourself?” I wanted to beg. I wanted to climb up there and grab him. Why did I feel so compelled to look out for this stranger? Why did I care so fucking much about his happiness and well-being? He was nothing to me. Nobody. He was a pain in my ass.
I tried to tell myself it was the same way I’d look out for anyone else in town, but I knew it was a lie. I didn’t just want to ensure Finn’s safety; I wanted to ensure his happiness and well-being, too.
Right now, he was the sharpest point of my focus and the only thing tethering me to earth. I needed him down here. I needed him safe.
I needed him, full stop.
“If you’re gonna yell at me, just leave me alone!” he called down. “I don’t need your help. I want to be alone.”
“It’s storming. Don’t be stupid. Get off the rock!”
He didn’t move.
“Finn,” I said, voice breaking as the rain began to beat down harder. “Please. Please.”
The temperature had dropped quickly when the sky had darkened. Finn was shirtless and drenched. Part of me wanted to race back to the SUV and grab as many warm clothes as I could. Why hadn’t I thought of it? Why hadn’t I brought them out here with me?
I saw a bundle of his things at the edge of the clearing. A backpack with a few climbing chocks poking out of the opening sat next to a pair of running shoes and a now sodden T-shirt.
I stepped closer to the hanging anchor rope dangling from his body all the way to the ground.
Finn said something, but his voice was carried away by the wind and the rain. My heart thundered in my chest as my eyes caught the flash of lightning in the darkening sky to the west.