Page 88 of The Devoted Game

The line went abruptly slack ... Worth dropped ... Vivian didn’t let go.

His weight snapped to a stop as the line tightened and her feet slipped.

She fell ... dangled in the air ... barely holding on to the rung with one hand and Worth’s harness with the other.

The unconscious man’s body weight was pulling her away from the rung ... her fingers were slipping. Her heart stalled.

“Don’t you let go of that rung, Grace!” McBride shouted. He was moving around the shaft, trying to get closer.

“I . . . can’t . . . hang . . . on . . .”

Her hand fell away from the rung.

Her stomach rushed into her throat.

Her grip on the harness was all that separated her from a high-speed encounter with the ground floor.

The horrified scream echoing in the shaft as she looked down was her own.

She grappled for something else to hang on to. Worth’s jacket. Her fingers wadded into the fabric. “God, oh God!”

Her face was plastered against his back. Her right leg stretched back toward the ladder, but she couldn’t reach it.

“Hang on, Grace,” McBride called to her. “I’m almost there.”

“Grace?”

Worth? She angled her head so that she could see his profile. He blinked repeatedly as if trying to clear his vision. “SAC?”

His arms flopped uselessly as if he were trying to grab on to something but couldn’t make his limbs work.

“Take it easy, Worth,” McBride urged. “We’ve got you. Just stay calm.”

Worth cried out ... the sound pure terror.

“Don’t look down,” Grace pleaded. “Don’t look down. McBride’s coming to help us.”

Her heart jolted against her ribs, floundering into a frantic rhythm. Dragging in air was impossible. All she could do was hang on. If that pulley gave way ... She forced the thought away.

“What the ... hell?” Worth looked from Vivian to McBride. He swallowed with difficulty, gave his head a shake. “It’s Fincher,” he said to McBride, his voice hoarse. “Martin Fincher.”

“We know,” McBride assured. He had reached the rungs now. “We’re going to get him. Right now, let’s just focus on getting you and Grace to safety.”

Worth’s attention shifted back to Vivian. “He wanted me to call McBride ...” Worth’s next breath hitched like a sob. “I thought we had it under control. The kid died.”

“We know what happened.” Vivian gave him the most reassuring look she could under the circumstances. “You did all you could.”

“No,” Worth argued. “I should’ve listened.” He looked to McBride again. “But you couldn’t have saved them all.”

“Listen up, Worth,” McBride ordered, “we’ll talk about this later. Right now, I need you to reach out to me.”

Worth closed his eyes. “This is my fault ...”

“Sir, you—”

“Grace!”

Her attention jerked back to McBride.