Chapter Four #2
Beside me, I can hear Sean murmuring something to a producer.
Valerie’s voice floats faintly. The world narrows until it’s just Lyla on these planks—and the drop directly beneath her.
Where one misstep could easily have her toppling over and into the ocean.
We’re not high enough up for anyone to get hurt but just enough to make me nervous.
Despite my insistence, she steps again.
The course shifts from planks to suspended rope circles. They sway more visibly and will no doubt be harder for her to find her footing.
“Lyla, I know I’m the last voice you want to hear telling you what to do, but for the sake of your safety, listen to me. You’re about to come across a rope ring.”
“Sure. Thanks for the tip.” She dismisses my warning.
Just as she’s on the last plank, I yell, “Step down six inches and stretch out your foot. Find the center of the circle before you put your weight on it.”
“I told you, I don’t need—” When she casually reaches her foot out, she must realize a plank is no longer in front of her because her breathing changes. She clenches the rope around her.
The rope fibers brush her calf as she lowers her foot. The ring swings, taking her body with it. Her breath shakes; she lets out a gasp of fear.
Something in my chest twists. “Easy, baby. It’ll move. That’s normal. Just bend your knees, and it’ll right itself. Don’t make any sudden movements.”
The ring tilts. She grabs at air instinctively.
“You’re clear,” I say immediately. “You’re centered. Don’t lock your legs.”
“You sound awfully sure of yourself,” she says skeptically.
“I am.”
“And why is that?”
“Because if you fall, I’m going in after you.”
She remains silent, her mouth in a tight line, as she rights herself and reaches her other foot, which was still on the plank, out for the next ring. Her knuckles are white as a ghost as she grasps the top rope around her.
When her open foot finally does meet the next ring, it sways harder. Wind kicks up off the water. A spray of salt water hits her bare legs. But she maintains her balance.
I’ve almost breathed a sigh of relief when she misjudges the distance, and her foot lands half on the top edge, making the ring jerk violently from underneath her.
Her body pitches forward, making her scream in fear. Arms flail.
My pulse detonates.
“Lyla!” For half a second, I’m ready to fuck the rules when she manages to steady herself again—barely. Her breathing is ragged, her body shaking.
This is torture more for me than it is for her.
“I-I can’t see. Oh, god,” she yells in terror.
“I know, baby girl. But please listen to me. You’re going to hurt yourself.”
Silence falls between us. The producers whisper behind me. I can feel cameras angling for the moment.
“This is bullshit,” she says under her breath.
“Just keep going. You’re almost at the end.”
Her head tilts slightly toward my voice. “How do I know you’re not screwing me over?”
What is she talking about? “If I was, why would I be trying to help you cross?”
“Why should I trust you?”
“Sweetheart, you think I’m an oblivious idiot?” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Arguing with me will only keep you where you are. If you want off, you’re going to have to trust me to get you across.”
Perhaps seeing my point, she takes in a deep frustrated sigh. “Fine. Tell me what I need to do.”
Thank you.
“Move up slightly forward and then to the left. Your left foot should touch another ring. Make sure your foot is centered on the ring before you put your weight on it.”
She nods but slightly hesitates. “Tell me when my foot is hovering over it.”
“I will.”
Moving slowly forward, she does what I ask as I verbally guide her to where her foot is centered on the rope ring.
I give her my next set of instructions. “In your next three steps, you’ll come to a beam. It’s wide enough to plant your foot on it.”
“O-okay,” she replies.
She makes quick work toward the beam, gaining momentum. I let myself breathe a sigh of relief when the beam tilts under her weight.
Shit.
Lyla tries to balance herself but overcorrects.
“Scott—” She loses her grip. That harness jerks tight against the rope as she slips sideways. Her body swings over open space. The top catches her mid-drop. The sound of it snapping taut echoes against the small cliff.
She screams.
My heart stops.
She dangles for a split second above the open water, lavender hair whipping in the wind, breath punched from her lungs.
“Pull her!” a producer shouts.
I’m already moving.
They lower her fast as she hits the water, the ripples consuming her whole.
I don’t think. I dive. Cold water slams into my chest. Salt burns my eyes.
I’m quick to surface with my arm around her waist while I swim us to safety. Her body is pressed up against mine as she rips the blindfold off.
Her eyes are wide as she coughs. She shakes as I hold her close against my chest. Her chest heaves rapidly against my chest. A stunned, almost blank stare forms on her face as though processing what just happened.
“I got you. I got you,” I softly assure repeatedly as the crew guides me to a dock. Cameras hover.
For a moment, her gaze locks onto my face. The tightness in her brows softens as she looks at me with something like disbelief. As though she is searching for answers. Then she breaks the spell, pushing herself out of my arms.
“Let go of me,” she demands, her chin lifted slightly. “I can swim on my own just fine.”
“Good for you, but I’m not letting go. You might have hurt yourself.”
When we reach the dock, I guide her to the connecting metal ladder. After climbing up, she quickly takes a few steps away from me, adjusting her soaked hair that clings to her neck. As though pretending nothing happened.
We make it back to the beginning of the course when Miranda yells, “Time! Jessa and Nick are the winners!”
Cheers erupt.
Lyla doesn’t react. Instead, she looks at me with fury blazing in her eyes.
Why is she mad at me? She wanted this to happen. Then again, what if that’s not the reason? Could she be mad because I saved her? Yet that doesn’t make any sense either. Could she be mad…at herself?
“The rest of the day is yours, contestants, to relax and mingle. Head back to the villa,” Miranda instructs.
Before I have a chance to think further, is the first to start the trek back to the villa without another word. An angry scowl forms on her face.
As I follow closely behind, a thought comes to mind. No matter what I do, no matter how many challenges there are where I can try to prove she can rely on me, Lyla doesn’t trust me.
Not even close.