by Jill Shalvis
which direction to go.
The wait wasn’t easy.
“We don’t know it’s her,” Mitch reminded him.
True. And it didn’t matter. Either way, they were going to get that person down safely. But God, he hoped like hell it wasn’t Lily. They had a high success rate with rescues overall, but Dead Man’s Cliff had earned its name the hard way, and all too often a rescue turned into a recovery.
As in a body recovery.
Aidan slammed the door on that thought and forced himself into work mode. The four overhangs were spread out over a few miles along the river. Within half an hour, the Zodiac crew called with the news that they’d found the lost hiker on outcropping number two, about four and a half miles from where Aidan and his crew stood.
They drove the mile and a half of fire road they had, and then had to hike the other three miles to the location.
It was a long-ass walk, hauling all their rope and gear in the wind. By this time the Zodiac had reported in with more details on their victim. The stuck climber was in a sweatshirt, hoodie up, and leggings, so no age or sex could be determined. It could be anyone out there.
But not Lily, he told himself. And yet a small doubt remained, messing with Aidan’s head. He locked that shit down and kept moving as the Zodiac made contact with the stuck climber. Sign language communication only, since they couldn’t hear each other over the roar of the wind barreling through the canyon and the water rushing along the canyon.
The climber was stuck. They couldn’t—or wouldn’t—go back up, and down wasn’t an option.
With each step Aidan’s fear grew that it was going to be Lily and he wouldn’t be able to get to her before the storm swept her off the ledge.
Chapter 28
Lily got back home frozen and desperate for a hot shower. She was shocked to find Gray coming out of her place with a grim set to his jaw.
“Lily,” he said, looking shocked as hell to see her.
Who else was he expecting?
But before she could ask, he had his cell phone to his ear. A few seconds later he said, “Fuck!” and stared at her. “You’re not up at Dead Man’s Cliff.”
“No,” she said slowly. “I never planned to be. I got to the three-quarter mark and turned around. The storm—”
“Fuck,” he said again, and hit the stairs, running down them toward his truck.
“Wait!” she yelled after him. He didn’t, so she took the stairs at a dead run as well but didn’t catch up to him until he was just about to peel out of the lot.
“I don’t have time for this, Lily,” he warned when she stood at his driver’s window. “Aidan’s on a rescue up there and he’s distracted, thinking it could be you. I’ve got to at least get to Incident Command and radio him, let him know you’re safe so he gets his head in the game.”
She stared at him for a single beat and then rounded his truck—in the front, so he couldn’t leave without running her over. She climbed into his passenger seat.
“No,” Gray said.
“You’re wasting time.” She hooked up her seat belt. “Go.”
“I’m not bringing you up there.”
“Save your breath and hit it.”
Gray gritted his teeth and hit it.
“Tell me everything,” she said. “Including why either of you could think I’d be stupid enough to climb Dead Man’s Cliff alone, ever.”
He drove fast through the driving rain but utterly in control as he laughed low under his breath.
“What?” she demanded. “What’s so damn funny?”
“You’re as stubborn as he is,” Gray said. “You two deserve each other.” He spared her a quick glance. “I hope you stick this time.”
She met his gaze, though it was difficult.
He went brows up. A silent but demanding Well? if she’d ever heard one. Pretending not to read Eyebrow Speak, she turned to the passenger window, watching as they flew through the storm. “What is going on, why were you at my place, and why were you surprised to find me there?”
He didn’t answer.
“I swear to God, Gray—”
“I saw you on the monitors,” he said. “And per protocol, I called Aidan—”
“Per protocol?”
He grimaced. “Shit. You’re going to get pissed.”
“Already there,” she said tightly.
Another grimace. “Okay, you’re not supposed to know this, none of you are supposed to know this. We’ve had a Penny Protocol in place since the beginning. And now we have a Lily Protocol.”
“Which means?” she asked in a deceptively quiet voice that sounded way calmer than she might have imagined she could come up with.
He didn’t answer.
“Gray,” she said.
That muscle ticked in his jaw again. “Look, it’s about keeping our people safe, okay? He watches out for Penny when I can’t, and I …”
“You what?” she asked, eyes narrowed.
“I watch out for you when he can’t. Hudson does too.”
She stared at him, stunned. “I watch out for myself,” she said.
“Yes and you usually do a damn fine job of it. Except I saw you presumably heading toward DMC and that’s code red.”
“Code red,” she repeated.
“You might’ve been in trouble.”
“I’ve been out here hiking for weeks and I’m still not mental enough to attempt free-climbing that damn, cursed mountain,” she said. Maybe even yelled.
He winced. “Not physically in trouble.”
“So you thought, what, that I might fling myself off the edge and you called Aidan to run in and save the day?”
“Better to be safe and apologize later,” he said. “Except a rescue call came in. A climber was reportedly stuck on a ledge above the river. Aidan’s S&R team caught the call, and everyone thought it might be you.”
“Except that I’m not actually climbing anymore,” she said again, this time through her teeth.” A thought occurred to her, and she narrowed her eyes. “So if you thought I was out there being stupid, why were you at my place?”
“Because maybe I knew that you and your smart-ass mouth aren’t really all that stupid.”
This actually slightly mollified her.
Gray used his Bluetooth to try calling Aidan again. No go. He made another call and then Penny’s voice filled the air.
“Hey,” she said. “I thought we were meeting for a quickie on your break—”
“You’re on speaker,” Gray said quickly. “And I didn’t give you the safe word!”
Penny laughed. “Sorry. Whose ears did I burn? Tell me it’s Aidan. I love messing with his head.”
“It’s me,” Lily said.
“Hey you! We still need to grab that drink.”
“Later,” Gray said tersely. “Baby, where are you?”
“In your office, where you’re supposed to be.”
“I’m going to be late,” Gray said. “We’re heading up the mountain. Aidan’s on an S&R. I’ll be at Incident Command. Call if you need me.”
“Is he okay?” Penny asked, all serious now.
“Yes, but he thinks they’re looking for Lily and I’ve got her right here.”
“I can read between the lines on that one,” she said. “You’re worried his head isn’t in the game. And it’s one hell of a storm coming too. Go take care of our boy, I’ll handle things here.”
On scene at the top, Aidan and Mitch peered over the edge and found the victim curled into the fetal position as the wind beat at her, her head and face covered by the hood of her thigh-length sweatshirt.
Aidan’s gut tightened. “Don’t move!” he yelled down, not at all sure she could hear them. “We’re coming! Keep your head covered!”
There was some discussion with Incident Command on whether the wind was too strong for a rappel and rescue. If so, they would have to pull back and wait out the storm.
Aidan was vibrating with impatience. Mitch put a hand on hi
s shoulder and met his gaze. “I’m going down there either way,” Aidan told him.
“Of course we are,” Mitch said.
Incident Command gave the go-ahead for the rescue—with the stipulation that they would be called back at a moment’s notice if the wind worsened, or at the first sign of lightning. Lightning would stop everything cold, as the guys up on the top, out in the open with the gear, would be in the direct line of danger.
Not that it would stop Aidan, if it came to getting Lily off the face.
From the top of the cliff to the outcropping was a good forty feet. And down to the river was a hundred feet more. The Zodiac couldn’t get in close due to the huge boulders at the river’s shore, but they’d stick around in the event anyone hit the water.
With the crew setting up the rigging, Aidan and Mitch pulled on their full-body harnesses in preparation to go over. They checked each other’s gear and checked the rigging setup to make sure the anchor points—in this case three tall, sturdy cedars—were strong enough for the three ropes they needed.
Aidan was in a huge hurry to get down there, but he still took the extra minute to double-and triple-check that all of the knots were properly tied and everything was correctly attached and tightened. Then he peered over the edge again, unable to take his sights off the all-too-still figure curled forty feet below, not moving. The distance was just enough to not be able to see clearly enough to identify or even catalog injuries, and that was the worst part. His heart kicked hard, and though he was trained to stay calm and alert and steady, his training threatened to go out the window.
Given the go-ahead, Aidan and Mitch went over the edge together, Mitch on the left of the climber and Aidan on the right. They made excellent time descending, aided by the blistering wind trying to tear them from the mountain.
They each landed lithely on their feet in the very small space on either side of their stuck climber, who was still curled up on her side. Aidan immediately crouched low, put a hand on her shoulder and she rolled to her back and opened her eyes.
Only it wasn’t a she at all. He was a kid, maybe twenty years old, lean and lanky.
Mitch, crouched on the other side of the kid, met Aidan’s gaze.
Not Lily. Not even close.
“Easy,” Aidan said when the kid jerked in shock in the very tight space. “We’ve got you, but no sudden movements. What’s your name?”
“Aaron Roberts.”
Mitch grabbed his radio. “Victim is Aaron Roberts, male, early twenties—”
“Nineteen,” Aaron said.
“Nineteen,” Mitch corrected. “No visible injuries.”
“Copy that,” came the reply from the incident commander.
“What happened?” Mitch asked Aaron.
The story that tumbled out had Aidan grinding his teeth. Aaron and his friend Gil had taken two girls up the mountain to show off and hopefully get laid. The girls had dared them to climb down the face. To sweeten the pot they’d promised something “really special” if the boys could climb down the rock face on the left side, traverse the rock face itself, and reappear on the right side.
Mitch shook his head and gave Aidan a look that said, Can you believe these dumbfucks?
Another time Aidan might have laughed, but the weather was going south as they stood there and worse, he still had no idea where Lily was, or if she needed help.
She doesn’t, he told himself. She was smart, she had more mountain experience than most, and surely she’d seen the storm moving in.
“Where are your friends?” Aidan asked Aaron.
“I think they went for help.”
A third harness had been lowered for Aaron. Aidan was still fuming, so Mitch explained to the Horn Dog what the plan was. All Aaron needed to do was slip into the harness. That was it, the big extent of his efforts needed.
But Aaron paled at the thought of moving around on the narrow ledge and shook his head. Granted, their space was extremely limited, and, with the three of them there, they had precious little room to move around. But there were only two ways off the ledge: either a hundred-foot drop to the wild river below, or up.
“Can’t you call a helicopter?” Aaron asked hopefully, squinting into the sky, which was now dark and turbulent, whipped into a frenzy by the winds. “Cuz that would be great.”
“A helicopter,” Mitch repeated, and looked at Aidan in disbelief. “And would you like fucking lunch to go with that?” he asked Aaron.
“Dude,” Aaron said, looking hopeful. “Do they serve meals?”
A bolt of lightning had Mitch and Aidan looking at each other. One one-thousand. Two one-thousand. Three one-thousand—
Thunder boomed so viciously that the ledge beneath their feet shuddered.
“Two minutes,” came the warning on the radio.
Shit.
“Listen to me,” Mitch said hurriedly. “Here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to put on the harness, nice and slow, and then we’ll check it. And then you’re going to get your ass off this rock before we all blow off, and you can go home and get your own damn meal, and we can go rescue someone else. And you’re going to do all of this fast. You hear me?”
Aaron nodded, eyes wide.
But it wasn’t that easy. Hell, nothing was ever that easy, and Aidan should have known.
The skies opened up right then, dumping water like the heavens had sprung a leak, making the going even more treacherous as the rock beneath their feet was now slicker than ever.
Aidan stood along with Aaron, making sure to block him from falling as the kid got the harness on, the wind shrieking like a mob of banshees.
Then came another shocking boom of thunder.
Aaron startled. Aidan snagged him, steadied him, but as he did, his own footing slipped on the wet rock. He immediately let go of Aaron so as not to take them both out. Thanks to the rope he didn’t go on a free fall into the rocky river far below. And also thanks to the rope, he swung under the momentum of his own weight face-first into the rock face of the mountain.
Chapter 29
Aidan hit the rock face hard enough to see stars. Normally he reserved seeing stars for the occasional drinkfest or orgasms. So it really sucked when these stars were immediately followed by pain. He bounced off another rock before he managed to regain his footing back on the ledge.
Mitch called an immediate halt to the rescue and everyone froze.
“You okay?” Mitch demanded.
Aidan took inventory. He was pretty sure he’d torn his rotator cuff again—the first time had been in a football game years ago, and that had been a lot more fun. He’d also sliced open an elbow and a knee, and as a bonus his face hurt like a son of a bitch, but luckily he couldn’t see it. “I’m fine.”
“Uh-huh, that’s because you haven’t yet met a rock that’s harder than your head.” Mitch’s voice was light, but his eyes were anything but. “Look at me.”
Aidan met his gaze, and Mitch gave him a sharp once-over. “Fine my ass,” he said.
The rain had kicked up a notch, though none of them could possibly get wetter. “Let’s just get this done,” Aidan said through