Showing her I’m worried won’t help.
She needs to know I’m in control. That I can get her across safely. But it’ll be a façade. Inside, I’m so scared my heart’s leaping out of my chest.
I can’t fucking reach her...
“What are you waiting for?!” Addie yells at Grant again. “Get the helicopter, you daft git! Lift me out of here!” Then she turns to me, too abruptly, making the bridge lurch violently. “Where the hell have you been?! Don’t just stand there like an idiot!Dosomething!”
“Watch your mouth,” I snap, marshaling my rising fear. “Screaming and crying won’t help. Are you hurt?”
“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Grant yells. “Don’t talk to her like that! How is thathelping?!”
Henry places a firm hand on my shoulder. “I don’t like him, but I like your tone even less.”
I turn my back to Addie, lowering my voice. “She’s scared, Henry. If I show her I’m scared, she’ll panic more. She needs to believe I’m in control, that I can get her across. You need to trust me on this.”
He narrows his eyes, his jaw working in small circles before he nods.
“I asked you a question,” I tell Addie, taking a firm stance at the edge of the bridge so I can grab her as soon as she’s close enough. “Are you hurt?”
“Yes! I’m scratched, bruised, tired, thirsty and—”
“You know that’s not what I’m asking. Focus, Audrey. Yes or no. Are you hurt?”
She doesn’t answer, rubbing her face against her shoulder in an effort to wipe her tears away. She looks down, and her grip tightens on the ropes she can’t let go of, prompting fresh tears to trickle down her cheeks.
“Eyes. On.Me.” I emphasize each word. “Rightnow.”
There’s a pause in her whimpers as her head snaps my way, eyebrows raised, breath caught in her throat. “I-I’m... I’m not hurt. Not badly.”
“Good girl.” The praise pulls her attention more my way. Her focus sharpens as she angles her body toward me.
“She’s not a dog!” Grant booms, jumping to his feet. “Don’t talk to her like that!”
Grating my teeth, I ignore the ass-kisser. “You know the bridge might not hold two people, Addie,” I continue, my eyes not leaving hers, “and there are too many trees to bring a helicopter in. You need to walk.”
She bites her bottom lip, shutting her eyes. “I-I can’t move. I can’t, I—”
“Eyes, Audrey,” I urge with the same impatient, crude voice I used to get her on her knees. “You can and you will. You trust me. You’ll do exactly as I say. Start with three deep breaths.”
From the corner of my eye, I spot Grant testing the first plank, leaning half his body’s weight on it. He mutters something under his breath, taking the first step.
“Either you turn back, or you’ll get another black eye to match as soon as I can reach your face, and this time, you’ll lose your teeth,” I warn, the protective instinct surging through me. “Don’t fucking test me.”
Victoria gasps but seeing that her daughter’s finally stopped sobbing, I think she’s willing to give my methods a try.
She doesn’t like me. That much is known. She has way too much to say about Addie’s life choices, too, but despite having a weird way of showing it, she does care about her daughter.
She grips Grant’s arm, shaking her head to keep him from crossing the bridge and possibly tumbling himself and Addie into the river.
“You got halfway across,” I continue, focusing back on Addie. “You’ve been sitting there for however long, and you’re fine. The bridge is safe. Tell me you understand that.”
Looking at the state of the construction, I doubt it’s safe, but it’s held her this far, so it can’t be as bad as it looks.
Instead of words, Addie takes another long pause, feeding off whatever strength she finds in my eyes.
With a pinch of her lips, she nods once.
“Good. You have two options. Either you crawl to me, or you walk. But before you say you’d rather crawl, remember that bridge will swing more if you’re on all fours.”
