Chapter 33
33
CADEN
R olling. She just kept fucking rolling. She couldn’t find purchase—she couldn’t find a grip. But all kinds of things were finding all the soft bits on her.
Rock met shoulder. Tree bounced off her back. Dirt in the face. Another rock to the gut. Sapling right in the midsection.
All Caden could do in defense of the onslaught was curl into herself and try to protect her head as she rolled and rolled.
Fuck.
Reid was not going to be happy about this—if she had to go on bed rest again, she’d go fucking crazy. Every movement—every lurching roll down the goddamn mountain sprouted a new bruise or dent or fracture—fuck, she couldn’t tell what body part was taking a hit; everywhere hurt all at once. She’d be lucky if she didn’t bash her skull in on one of those lovely boulders that were doing absolutely nothing to break her fall.
There was a drop—no, a fucking cliff. The sudden thought rang in her head and sent a lightning bolt of fear down her spine. Cold sweat broke out all over her. Blood surged in her head and her heart said fuck this and tried to beat its way out of her chest. There was a cliff somewhere down there—to the there she was rolling and tumbling towards. She was going to roll right off the damn thing if she didn’t find a way to stop.
Curled into herself as she was, it was relatively easy to reach the knife in her boot but less easy to keep a grip on it without gutting herself.
Caden plunged it into the ground. It didn’t stick.
A rock slamming into her prone stomach winded the thief and sent her head reeling for too long. Too fucking long—it was taking too fucking long to stop.
She could see the drop-off.
She could see the fucking drop. Where the mountain ended. Where there was nothing but air.
It was ten feet away. She could do this. She could fucking do this because if she didn’t, Nathan was gonna find a pancake wearing her clothes at the bottom. Positive thinking—she could do this.
She wasn’t going to go over.
Positive thinking would work.
Weeds came up as she grappled for a grip. Plant, rocks, dirt, a whole fucking sapling—weren’t those supposed to have roots?
Fucking nature.
Five feet away.
She was not going to go over.
Her knife snagged a rock but then dislodged it right into her face. Pain splintered in her face, but she didn’t have time to register the damage.
Four feet away.
She was not going to go over.
She gripped a handful of low hanging tree branch but it broke off in her palm and she kept rolling.
Three feet away.
She was not going to go over.
A rock found her kidney. Dirt, loose fucking dirt, went through her fingers like fucking sand.
Two feet away.
She was not going to go over.
Her knife found purchase—it wedged between two huge boulders and stuck. And fucking held.
Caden came to a bone jarring halt.
She didn’t go over.
Her whole body was dangling over the ledge, but she did not go fucking over.
Tears blurred her vision. Her whole body was shaking—from terror or the beating her whole body just took, it didn’t matter. Her bloody sweaty hands shook, but she was not letting go of her goddamn knife. Holy fuck—maybe positive thinking was an actual thing and not just something Maddox pulled out of his ass. Huh.
Holden was coming in fast after her. He was tumbling end over end. His body was limp, his limbs flailing—Caden couldn’t help but cringe—he’d have lots and lots of broken bones if he wasn’t already dead.
“Holden!” Three feet away and not even grabbing for a hold. “Cliff!”
He bounced off the boulders, keeping her knife wedged and was flung over her, head first, over the edge.
Caden was ready for him, though. She shot her arm out as he was airborne and gripped his belt. She fit her whole hand under the strap and braced for the jerk of his weight. Then prayed with every fiber of her being that the knife and his buckle held.
They held.
Pain—so much fucking pain. Her palms were nothing but sweat and blood and bruises. Her muscles pulled and strained and her recently healed arm was burning. Mentally, she pushed it back and concentrated on breathing.
She could do this.
“Holden!” It was a pained groan that came out of her throat. “Wake.” Inhale. “Up.” Exhale. “Dead weight.” Inhale. “Is killing.” Exhale. “Me!”
“Busy bees…” His voice was slurred and slow. “Darwin’s like… so… purple… I like it?” His limbs were still limp, but at least he wasn’t dead. Maybe brain damaged for life, but not dead. “Penelope… she likes cashews… eww.”
“Can’t hold much longer. Fucking get it together!” Her muscles were screaming. Blood was running down her face and hands and back and throbbing in her head.
“Caden?” Suddenly he was alert. Caden could feel his weight shift and his muscles tense. “What the fuck!?”
And then came Jackson. Cursing and rolling and tumbling and umphing all the way down.
“Cliff!” It was more of a howl than anything else. “Cliff!”
“Fuck!” His body started wrenching around as he tried to find a hold. But it was too late. He bounced off the same boulder his brother did and shot past her. Caden couldn’t help him—all her arms were taken. Fuck fuck. He was going to die because of her.
Holden caught his boot.
The extra weight felt like it pulled her apart. Her shoulder popped out of its socket and Caden was seeing little dots.
“Mother fucking?—”
White hot pain was ripping up and down her muscles. Her arm, the one holding Holden and Jackson and the same one that’d been dislocated last time, popped out of its socket. Her fingers went numb, but she gripped his belt with everything she had. She wasn’t breathing now, just hollering out the hurt.
“Was that your arm?” Holden’s voice sounded from somewhere below.
“Hold on, Caden!” Jackson bellowed as he swung his weight towards the cliff. “Just a little bit longer!”
The movement sent fresh shockwaves of pain through her. Her blood-soaked hand was making her grip on the knife precarious. She was slipping.
“Can’t—slipping.” She was fucking slipping. Her palm was no longer in contact with the hilt. Her fingers were the only things gripping now.
“One more second.”
Jackson swung again; this time he body slammed the rock face and shoved his knives into crevices at the same time.
“Fuck!” Her fingers lost the hilt, and Caden experienced a moment of complete and utter terror.
Her heart stopped.
She didn’t—couldn’t breathe.
Everything came into sharper focus. The sky was bright blue, birds were chirping, there was a beetle crawling over a mound of dirt right in front of her face. She could hear Holden breathing, deep and fast. Jackson was grunting and wedging his knives deeper into the mountain side. The pain in her arm was overwhelming. And she was going to fall to her death.
And then she dropped.
And dropped.
And was yanked to a halt.
She was still clutching Holden’s belt. Her arm was still in an incredible amount of pain, but she’d endure because Jackson’s knives were holding. They were dangling off the rock face, but they weren’t falling.
They weren’t fucking falling.
But they were moving. Down. Slowly.
“Son of a—” It was Jackson growling.
Slowly suddenly became faster as the knives dragged down the mountain side under their combined weight. And then they were airborne and dropping like rocks.
Caden released her grip on Holden’s belt and watched as his ass followed her down.
She didn’t want the last thing she’d ever see to be Holden’s ass outlined by nothing but blue sky. She wanted to see Nathan’s ass. She wanted to see that stupid, ridiculous grin. She didn’t want to die.
But she kept falling. Kept dropping like a stone. Down. Down.
Then something big slapped all the breath right out of her. Again and again.
Trees. She was hitting branches. Still dropping, but the branches were slowing her descent.
A ridiculous giggle erupted from her throat when she got oxygen back.
Someone, Holden, was laughing too.
Caden tried to find a branch to grip with her good hand, but she was getting bounced around too much. She was getting pummeled by branches and bouncing off trunks and getting slapped around by the more flexible branches.
Finally, she caught and held a branch with her good arm. But her weight was too much. It snapped off in her palm. She fought for a grip again, but she couldn’t get a good hold.
But that didn’t matter anymore because her back landed on the ground. The wind was once again knocked out of her. Something snapped—several somethings.
Something heavy thudded down beside her, but she didn’t catch a glimpse of it because she was rolling again.
Fuck—she couldn’t catch a break.
But then a warm hand caught and held her.
“No more rolling.” Holden had her. His face was tight and bloodied, but he was smiling down at her, and Caden couldn’t help but smile back.
“Anybody dead or seeing bright lights?” Jackson’s pain-filled voice filtered in through the roar in her ears. “Don’t go into the light. Reid will just bring you back and put your asses on bed rest for the rest of your lives.”
“Oh fuck, not bed rest.” Holden’s voice was an agonized growl. “Don’t go into the light, Caden—Reid’ll kill you.”
“Alive.” Caden finally found her voice. “I’m alive. No bright lights. Only a terrible burning—what’s that, Satan? You want me to go with you?”
Holden cracked up beside her for all of three seconds before the light sound turned into a pained moan and he quit laughing.
“You are so fuckin’ hilarious.” Jackson was somewhere north of her head and not sounding at all amused, just marginally shocked.
After a few minutes of deep breathing and pain management, Caden forced her body to obey her commands. With her good arm, she rolled over and pushed her aching body into a sitting position. She took stock of her surroundings and the men scattered around her.
Jackson was sprawled face up in the bushes a good six feet away. His chest was heaving up and down and his face looked flushed. Holden was on his back right beside her, skin pale, breathing irregular, and face pinched in pain.
“Holden!” It came out louder than she intended. His eyes popped open, and it took him a second too long to track her face.
“What?” He shifted slightly and his face paled even more. “Can’t you see I’m takin’ a nap?”
“No napping.” Caden shoved to her feet and swayed but stayed upright. “You were out cold rolling down the mountain—you probably broke a lot of shit.”
“Definitely broke some shit,” he agreed; his voice was a pained snarl of humor. “Looks like we won’t be able to knock Kade off his high horse any time soon.”
“What do ya mean we —speak for yourself, cripple.” Caden needed to keep him awake and talking. “I just gotta shove this arm back in and shake it off.”
“Pfft.” Saliva and blood flew out of his mouth at the noise, and Caden only panicked a little. “Yeah, okay. Reid will most definitely go for that.”
She wanted to say something along the lines of Reid not being her boss and she could do whatever the hell she wanted, but, as much as she didn’t like to admit it, it was true. He would demand she stay in bed and not strain herself, and Caden would comply.
“You two are in-fucking-sane.” Jackson wasn’t moving from his sprawled position, but his voice was deep and strong. “Fucking laughing? Laughing? As we fall to our deaths? You’re both just gonna fuckin’ giggle as we free fall. Fuckin’ nuts.”
“What? You didn’t find it funny?” Pain and sarcasm was all but dripping from Holden’s tone. “You didn’t think, ‘huh, I’m free falling off a fucking cliff roadrunner style’?”
“No, crazies—I did not. I thought, oh shit—oh shit—we’re gonna die and the last thing I’m gonna hear is their stupid giggles.”
“Oh, come on.” Caden finally found the SAT phone Jackson carried three feet from the man’s sprawled form. It was crushed and useless. “You didn’t think for even a second that it was even slightly funny? I mean, we were free-falling off a fucking cliff and trees were slapping us left and right. It was ridiculous and cartoony.”
“When we get home, everyone is gettin’ psych evals. You two especially. And Reid thinks Daisy needs therapy. Got fuckin’ Thelma and Louise over here.”
“Of the three of us, Jackiepoo, you are the one in the most need of a therapy session.”
“Yeah, I already had my come to Jesus moment this week,” Caden said.
“Does that mean you’re staying or going?” Holden asked.
“I’m stayin’.”
“Good,” Holden said, his voice a pained moan.
They lapsed into silence. Jackson shifted in the bushes he was all but buried in. Caden took a seat beside Holden and watched him breathe. His chest moved up and down, but the breaths were labored and fast, like he’d just run a marathon. That couldn’t be good.
What she needed to do was figure out how to contact the boys without a SAT phone. She couldn’t get two grown men out of the woods all on her own. She needed help.
But she was just so tired.
If she just took a quick nap, she could be useful again. Caden laid down where she was and put a careful hand on Holden’s forearm, right where his pulse was.
Minutes passed. Or maybe hours. She wasn’t sure; she wasn’t counting.
“A cliff?!” Reid’s outraged howl jolted Caden out of her light doze and back into a painful reality.
“They’re alive!” It was a familiar bellow.
Multiple feet started to pound the ground and Caden was suddenly staring up at familiar nose hairs. Nathan’s face was tight with worry lines carved into his handsome face and made him look ten years older. His hands hovered over her like he wasn’t sure where to touch.
Automatically, she sat up straight and checked on Holden. He was pale and still. His chest was heaving up and down, so he was still breathing. His pulse jumped under her fingers.
“You jumped off a cliff ?!” Reid was still shrill and his tone was outraged. It would have been funny if Holden wasn’t in the state he was in.
“It’s not like we did it on purpose.” Jackson’s drawl was dry.
“Yeah, we tried very hard not to go over the cliff,” Caden put in, visually searching Nathan for any injuries.
“Where are you hurt? What do you need? Caden, talk to me.” His voice cracked and his hands moved up and down ten inches from her like he was starting to panic.
“I’m not too bad. It’s Holden who needs the most medical attention.”
“Bah,” Holden groaned and waved a hand like his injuries were negligible. “I’m good.”
“Shut up, you were out cold rolling down the mountain! Who even knows what’s all wrong with you,” Caden snapped at him as Nathan’s hands continued to roam all over her, looking for injuries. “Nate, I’m fine. It’s Holden who needs attention.”
“Get the stretcher.” Reid’s voice was calmer now that he was hovering over Holden, his hands moving all over him. “Jackson, can you walk?” This he directed at the man still sprawled in the bushes.
“I think I broke my leg on the way down the mountain—give me a hand, Dax.” Dax and Maddox hovered over Jackson’s sprawled form. They were grinning in relief.
“Don’t move,” Reid commanded. “Let me splint it first.”
“Yes, sir.” Jackson settled back into the bushes with a salute.
“Caden, can you walk out of here?”
“Nothing wrong with my legs, just my arm. It came out of its socket again.”
“So explain to me how you ended up at the bottom of a cliff?” Reid’s voice was calm and reasonable, like he was discussing the weather.
“I don’t know—Caden said to run, so we ran. And here we are.” Jackson was scowling again. Caden could hear it in his tone.
No way was she taking the blame for this.
“First of fucking all, I didn’t push us down the mountain. The blast did. Second of all, how come all your plans didn’t account for them rigging up their foundation with explosives?”
“Is that what it was?” Holden chimed in.
“And I saved your life— twice !”
“Twice?”
“Yeah, or did you not remember the part where we were dangling over the side of the cliff?”
“Yeah, yeah. You’re a hero.” Jackson sighed a put-upon sigh. Caden decided to ignore him.