Page 55 of Mountain Impact

Oh, God.

“She’s not going to jump.”

Isolde turned her head at the low, rough voice. Through the fog, she couldn’t see the anybody, but she didn’t need to see him to know Drake was there.

“She’s got a gun, Drake!” Isolde shouted as Amélie pointed the weapon towards the voice. She should have been relieved to find the weapon no longer pointed in her direction, but the thought of Drake getting shot was more than she could bear.

Drake walked through the fog towards them. He looked big and solid. Isolde wanted to run to him and wrap herself against him―but knew that would probably only get them both killed.

He walked towards them slowly, his hands open by his sides, trying to make himself look as unthreatening as possible. He was breathing hard, as if he’d been running for a long time.

Isolde sneaked a look at Amélie. Fury burned in the woman’s eyes.

“You told me you came alone. You lied to me,” she spat out. It was testament to her delusion that she actually considered herself the injured party in all this.

Drake had stopped his approach, forcing Amélie to shift the gun between Isolde and him. His hair was dripping wet, making it look almost black.

“I came on my own,” Drake said, speaking in a hushed tone. “I’m going to bring you both home.”

“You can go back down the way you came. I have nothing against you. This is between the doctor and me.”

Drake’s eyebrow went up, and Isolde knew the next words that came out of his mouth were not going to please Amélie.

“Yes, get out of here, Drake,” Isolde said. She couldn’t bear to see him get hurt. She tried to signal Drake with her eyes, hoping he’d understand what she was trying to tell him.

Get out of here and get help.

In response, Drake snorted.

He actually snorted.

Amélie’s jaw hung open for a second. Instants later, her expression was transformed by fury.

“You’re laughing at me?” she whispered.

“I’m not laughing at you, Amélie. I’m laughing at your suggestion that I might turn around and leave Isolde here―”

“Drake …” Isolde said carefully, dreading the next words out of his mouth, but Drake forged on.

“―with someone who is so clearly unbalanced.”

Amélie snarled.

“Drake!” Isolde said.

“Not the word you would have chosen, Doc?” he asked, smiling.

She understood what he was trying to do―he was trying to turn Amélie’s anger onto himself. But to what purpose?

Is he standing closer to Amélie than he used to be?

“You shouldn’t be here,” Amélie hissed. “It should just be the two of us. Dr. Durant and I are going to jump,” Amélie insisted stonily, her voice devoid of emotions.

“Over my dead body,” Drake snarled back.

“No! Drake!” Isolde screamed.

Amélie kept the gun on Drake. “Walk closer to the edge, Isolde. Now. Or I’ll shoot him instead.”