Page 104 of When the Stars Rise

But I don’t mention any of that. No need to draw further attention to myself.

“Name’s Steve,” he says, extending his hand to shake. “I was just crossing the bridge when I saw the commotion.”

“Yeah, all right,” the skeptic grumbles. “It’s worth a shot.”

Not sure I like his attitude, but beggars can’t be choosy. As long as he pulls his weight, that’s all that matters.

A few more guys step up and offer to help, and now we have enough people to proceed so I waste no time swapping out my jumping harness for the climbing one.

The only reason I brought my climbing gear today is because I lied to Hayley and had to go through with the lie. She woke up before I left and reminded me to take it and I was so fucking tempted to tell her the truth. But she had that dreamy little smile on her face, and I didn’t want to ruin her day by having her worry about me.

I never told her about any of my BASE jumps so having that conversation at six in the morning didn’t seem like the ideal time to discuss it. Besides, we’re in a good place now. Best we’ve been in years, really, and I don’t want to do anything to destroy our happiness.

So I grabbed my backpack and walked out the door.

I felt guilty about lying to her though. Kept thinking about it on the entire drive to Idaho.

But I can’t think about any of that right now.

My sole focus is on getting Carey off that bridge, so I shove everything else out of my head, and grab my backpack.

We all climb down the stairs and onto the catwalk, and I lean over the metal railing to assess from this vantage point. Briggs was right. Looks like he’s a good twenty feet below us.

“It’s a fucking miracle his chute got caught,” Briggs says.

“He must have a guardian angel,” Steve chimes in.

I’ve been told the same thing many times. Shiloh is a big believer in God and guardian angels. And who knows? Maybe they exist. Right now we could use all the help we can get so putting my faith in a higher power can’t hurt.

I turn from the railing and look at the five guys who have assembled to help. Should be fine. Nothing to worry about.

“Let’s get the cover off that manhole,” I tell Steve, my new buddy.

“You got it.”

“How are you gonna get him to the manhole?” the skeptic—Dave—asks.

“Leave it to me.”

We go over the game plan again while I tie figure eights in my ropes and attach the clips to my harness. “I’ll climb down to the bottom of the supports. Then I’ll need you to lower me the rest of the way. Everyone good with that?”

“I was a tug-of-war champion in middle school,” Steve jokes.

We all laugh but as soon as the laughter dies, it hits me that I’m entrusting my life and Carey’s life to virtual strangers. Except for Briggs, I don’t know these guys from Adam. I don’t like handing over so much control. I prefer to be the one calling the shots, but I need their help, so I have no choice but to trust them.

“Good luck,” Alex says, biting her lip. “It’ll be okay.” She nods a few times like she’s trying to convince herself that it’s true, and I banish all negative thoughts from my mind and give her a confident smile.

“We’ve got this.”

Dave hands me a knife to cut the ropes and I stash it in my pocket with a nod of thanks as Briggs slaps me on the back. “We’ve got you, man,” Briggs reassures me. “It’s all good.”

I don’t even give myself a chance to second-guess. I climb over the railing, grab the rope and rappel down the side of the bridge as the winds buffet me. The lower I go, the higher the winds.

When I reach the bottom, I grab the steel supports and secure my foothold before tipping my face up to the team working the ropes.

“On the count of three, start lowering me down,” I yell over the wind.

“One. Two. Three.” I release my hold. Nothing happens. They just leave me hanging.