I looked down at myself. I was fully dressed again in the clothes I'd worn before. The cargo pants were ruined with the bullet hole and dried blood on the thigh. My tank top had seen better days.
"Welcome to Level Four," the singsong voice continued, "a reward level in which Kira is to rescue her partner by crossing a narrow and dangerous bridge high above the city streets, and then the two must continue on to the other side to complete this level successfully. There is no safety gear for this, no ropes, no tricks. All Kira has to work with is her sense of balance and self-preservation. Should they finish they will be well rewarded for their efforts. Our competitors have ten minutes to complete this level. Enjoy! "
I didn't move. I stood in place and stared out at Rogan. I always thought that I only had a fear of the dark. Who knew about this nagging little fear of heights I'd just developed in the past two minutes?
My mouth went dry.
Okay. So I had precisely ten minutes to rescue the man whom I'd been told had killed my family and try not to fall dozens of stories to our deaths.
Splat.
I shuddered and looked around the rooftop I was currently standing on. Whoever had removed my blindfold and bindings had disappeared. I was all alone. Nobody to push me to do this. Nobody to force me.
"Nine minutes remain in this level of The Countdown."
Fuck me.
I made my way to where the platform began-it was even narrower than I'd originally thought. I tried to breathe.
When I was ten years old I took gymnastics. I remember balancing on the beam, trying not to fall off. I'd been pretty good at it then, even been able to do a cartwheel or two. But the floor had been padded in case there were any tumbles.
That had been a long time ago.
The platform seemed fairly stable. I tested it with my foot and it gave a little, but not much. My upper thigh ached dully from where I'd been shot, but I suppose it was better than still bleeding.
These Countdown people wanted their contestants to be in top shape before their precious subscribers got to watch them die.
So sporting of them.
"Kira!" Rogan shouted again. He had his head up and looked at me. "Be careful!"
I ignored him. Thinking about him right now was only going to distract me. There was no time for me to be distracted. To say the least.
Just don't look down, I told myself.
Which left me with very few options. The platform was so narrow that when I focused on it, I couldn't help but see the street so far below me.
My right foot shook as I placed it on the platform, and I wavered for a second, holding my arms out to either side of me as I established my balance. I let out a long breath and tried to center myself.
Just like gymnastics. I needed to pretend that I was competing at the Olympics, if they were still being held. I wanted that gold medal.
Focus on that gold medal, I thought. Think of nothing else.
"Eight minutes remain in this level of The Countdown."
The voice seemed louder in my head than usual, and it surprised me. I shook a little before I steadied myself. I took another tentative step and let out a long, shuddery breath.
"You're doing great, Kira," Rogan said. From what I could see from twenty feet away, his expression was strained. He pulled at his bindings and the platform shook.
"Don't do that!" I yelled. "Just stay still."
"Sorry!"
"Yeah," I muttered under my breath, and a line of sweat trickled down my forehead and onto my nose. "You're going to be sorry, you son of a bitch."
No, don't think about anything negative, I thought. Nothing. Just focus on putting one foot in front of the other-
"Seven minutes remain in this level of The Countdown."
– and doing it quickly.
Christ. That voice was so distracting.
I took another step.
A silver camera buzzed past my face, so close that I felt the wind from it. I glared up into its lens and it came back for another pass.
"How is Kira feeling right now?" the voice asked. "Ready to win The Countdown and receive her ultimate prize of a first-class ticket on the Off world shuttle?"
"Fuck off," I told it. "Pretty please."
It flew away and out of my peripheral vision, but I could still see two other cameras moving around in the air nearby.
Jonathan had told them what I wanted. Okay, so that made it official. I was playing for keeps. I wanted that prize more than I wanted anything else in the world.
Another step. Balance. Another step. Balance.
I raised my gaze to look at Rogan, who was much closer now, his head still propped up, and he watched me as I approached. His jaw was tense, the muscles in his arms tight. The closer I got, I could see a small grin appear on his lips.
"What the hell are you smiling at?" I managed.
"Just the fact that you've come to my rescue. Does that make you my knight in shining armor?"
I didn't smile. "I haven't rescued you yet."
His grin faded. "Just watch your step. Don't fall. Here comes another camera."
It buzzed close enough that it almost touched me. "What the hell? Are they trying to knock me off this thing?"
"They're not trying to give you a helping hand, that's for damn sure."
"Why'd you let them tie you up like this?"
He pulled at the bindings. The platform shook slightly. "Like it was my idea. They took me outside the room and knocked me out again. I woke up here. Trust me, it was a hell of a shock."
I studied the ropes that tied him. "This is going to be tricky."
"I don't think the knots are too tight. It's just awkward."
I studied the face of the man who may have killed my family. He looked up at me with those blue-green eyes framed with dark lashes and that fading scar. He wore the same clothes as before: bloody, dirty, ripped. I still saw the handsome man under the ruin, the one I'd let charm me into believing in him.
His dark brows were drawn together as he frowned up at me. "Why are you looking at me that way, sweetheart?"
I blinked back tears. "Just shut up. I need to concentrate."
I thought back to gymnastics. One lesson had been how to kneel down on the bar without losing balance. It had taken me forever to learn that without falling off, but I had finally gotten it. However, that was more than ten years ago, and definitely not a skill I used all the time. Unfortunately.
I slowly crouched down far enough that I could fumble with the bindings around his ankles just above his worn black boots.
His body took up the entire width of the platform and then some. He couldn't move without shaking everything around, and I couldn't get past him.
He eyed his wrists. "Now what?"
A camera whizzed past my ear and I swatted at it, hitting cold metal.
"Five minutes remain in this level of The Countdown."
I met his gaze and saw there was more than a trace of fear behind it. There was concern. For me.
My heart wrenched. Why was he concerned for me? Dammit. I hated that I'd convinced myself he was a good man-and even now, after everything, I still had doubts about his guilt. Was it because I wouldn't allow myself to believe I could be attracted to the man who may have murdered my family?
"I'm thinking."
He blinked. "What they said earlier… about what happened with you and that lawyer scumbag-"