And then he wasn’t. Then he was looking into Nimue’s beautiful—oh boy—deep-brown eyes with golden flecks, and the scream had simply died inside his head.
She’d looked at him with a sort of concern.You okay?
Not even a little.Still wasn’t, really.
He blew out a breath. Yeah, he needed this jump like a man needed a cold shower.
Eleven a.m. sun simmered on his shoulders, brutal against the cool breeze sweeping across the span. Sweat plastered his T-shirt to his back despite the fact they were barely in June. The real heat wouldn’t show up for a month. But here he was with sweat trickling down his neck. Desert sage and limestone dust filled his nostrils, anchoring him to the moment.
Noah stood motionless at the precipice, six foot four of unshakable calm. From the expression on his face, this drop ranked somewhere between stepping off a curb and brushing his teeth. The man kept his history locked in a vault, but nothing seemed to rattle him.
“You got this, boss!” Teague gave their boss a thumbs-up, his ruddy face all grins.
Noah didn’t even look at him.
The countdown hit zero. Noah nose-dived off the bridge, his body slicing through the air. The group—rangers and adrenaline junkies from the North Rim village—pressed against the rail, tracking his descent. Five seconds of freefall before the bungee cord caught, stretching taut.
Liam squeezed his eyes shut, willing his pulse to slow. He shouldn’t have watched. Heights used to fuel him, pump liquidfire through his veins. He’d lived for the rush of soaring over alpine peaks, the wind roaring in his ears. But now, watching Noah’s dive, Liam had simply gone cold.
Frankly, he didn’t recognize this…this, well, fear. Yeah, that’s what he’d call it.
Shoot, but he wasafraid.
Breathe.Liam adjusted the leg strap, harness leather biting his thigh. Far below, Noah swayed at rope’s end like a human pendulum.
Silent. The man hadn’t released so much as a grunt during his plunge—just dropped like a stone, classic stoic Noah. In the months working together, the guy had been rock steady, fearless in ways that reminded Liam of his twin, Logan.
Teague was on deck to bounce next, literally vibrating with anticipation. The guy fed on danger, had even tried BASE jumping once—a stunt that defied logic. One in roughly two thousand BASE jumps ended in death. That wasn’t thrill seeking. That was suicide. Even in his wildest days, Liam had drawn lines.
The crew hauled Noah topside. Teague stepped to the platform, waiting for the all clear. Thumbs-up. He launched, releasing a war cry that ricocheted off canyon walls. The sound was pure, infectious joy and dragged laughter from the group. Even Liam’s mouth twitched, though the response felt rusty. He’d been that guy once. Somehow, someway, he’d find his way back.
He leaned back against the rail, not bothering to watch as they pulled Teague up. Closing his eyes, he pictured the North Rim trails at dawn, the quiet—canyon walls bathed in honey light, condors riding thermals overhead. The image unknotted his shoulders, easing as he rested his head back, the metal railing cool against his scalp.
“You ready, man?” Teague’s voice rang with leftover adrenaline, his eyes still wide.
Liam managed a nod. Stepped forward. The crew transferred carabiners from Teague’s harness to his. The next few minutes blurred—instructions, words he’d heard a dozen times, the crew strapping his feet together, the weight of the harness grounding him. Straps. Buckles. Safety checks. He’d done this before, in training and for kicks. Muscle memory. Simple.
But the moment he stepped onto the mini platform, the world tilted. The voices of the crew faded to underwater murmurs. Christiana’s scream sliced through his mind, piercing, deafening. Over four hundred feet of nothing yawned below. The Colorado River glinted green and deadly, ready to swallow him whole if nylon and rubber failed. His vision tunneled.
Noah’s palm landed on his shoulder. “You sure about this, dude?”
The question hung in the tepid air.
No.He wasn’t sure about anything anymore. The nightmares refused to quit. Last night had been worse—Christiana’s scream had morphed into something else. Nimue’s—falling into darkness. Nimue slipping through his fingers before he could react.
Nimue holding onto him.
He should have accepted her offer to back out of running together, but something primal wouldn’t let him. She needed protection, whether she admitted it or not.
Waiting for his old self to resurface wasn’t working. Time to force the issue. Leap into the void and claw back the man who’d laughed at heights, who’d lived for the rush.
He met Noah’s eyes. “I’m good.”
“Three.” The crew chief’s voice cut through the wind.
“Two.”
Liam tipped forward.