“My turn?” My voice cracked so hard I winced.
“You said you weren’t going to fight,” he reminded me. “You want to walk out the front door instead?”
Absolutely not.
“No,” I muttered. “Just… give me a second.”
I gripped the railing, swung a leg over, and eased down onto the beam. It wasn’t that narrow, but my body still went rigid with nerves.
Lock’s hand came up… not touching me, but close, like he was ready if I slipped.
“Use the ladder,” I whispered, nodding toward the slim metal rung tucked under the balcony rail. “It folds down.”
Lock’s eyes narrowed. “What ladder?”
I reached under the edge of the balcony and found the small latch by feel. It clicked, and the ladder swung down silently, stopping just above the ground.
Lock stared at it like it had personally offended him.
“Your dad put that in?”
I snorted quietly. “No. He’d triple-bolt the windows if he could. This was already here… old building thing. He meant to have it removed, but… he never got around to it.”
Lock muttered something sharp under his breath. “And you knew it worked.”
“Yeah.” I kept my voice low. “My uncle helped me tighten the bolts once. Dad doesn’t know about that part.”
Lock turned his head slowly toward me, his pale blue eyes giving me a look I couldn’t even begin to describe.
“You’ve climbed down this before.”
I shrugged, heat crawling up my neck. “Only a few times.”
He stared another beat, jaw tight.
“You’re full of surprises,” he muttered. “Move.”
I pulled the latch, the ladder dropped soundlessly, and I climbed down fast, my hands cold on the metal. My hoodie bunched at my back, and the air hit the strip of skin between my shirt and waistband. I didn’t want to think about whether Lock could see.
Boots landed behind me a second later.
“Stay close,” he murmured.
I didn’t get a chance to argue. He grabbed my hand—his fingers closing around my wrist, firm but not painful—and tugged me forward. We made our way through the compound. Staying in the shadows. Keeping to the side of the house.
The trees swallowed us quickly. My breath fogged in the cold night and there was a part of me that wanted to scream, but then I couldn’t seem to make myself.
Which was insane!
Halfway through the yard, I tripped over a root. His hand tightened, steadying me before I even fully stumbled.
“Watch your step,” he muttered.
“Hard to do when you’re dragging me,” I whispered back.
“Would you rather I carry you?” he asked without looking back.
Absolutely not.
