Chapter 125: The Edge of Freefall!

Micah’s POV

Maybe because my body had gone completely numb from sitting in the same stiff position for so long, or maybe because my mind was trapped in a loop of panic, I couldn’t tell how much time had actually passed.

Thirty minutes? An hour? Three hours?

The rough rope was digging into my wrists and ankles, cutting off the circulation until my fingers felt like blocks of ice. Every tiny shift against the wooden chair sent sharp pins and needles shooting up my legs, but I didn’t dare make a sound. I didn’t dare draw any more attention to myself.

I stared down at the dirty concrete floor, my chest aching with a heavy, suffocating mix of guilt and terror.

Should I beg these people to let me go?

I opened my dry mouth a few times, but the words instantly died on my tongue. What was the point of begging? These weren’t reasonable men. They were George Jenson’s vicious lackeys, and they made it crystal clear why they had dragged me here. They were waiting for Noah.

And Damon.

A sudden, sharp pang twisted violently inside my chest.

Part of me... the weak, pathetic, terrified part... desperately prayed that someone would burst in here and rescue me before I lost my mind. If no one showed up, these monsters were going to throw me off the edge of this incomplete building. I would fall three floors down and smash into the ground.

My life would end right here, alone in the dirt, before I even reached twenty five. The thought of falling, of feeling my bones shatter on the concrete below, terrified me so badly that cold sweat dripped down the sides of my neck.

Yet at the exact same time, a much louder voice inside my head screamed the opposite.

Don’t come.

Please, Noah... Damon... don’t come here.

Why did I always have to be the burden? Why was I always the useless, fragile piece that enemies used to hurt the people around me?

Noah was the golden captain of his hockey team. He had a massive championship coming up, his future was on the line, and he was already under intense scrutiny after what happened to George Jenson. If he came here and got dragged into another violent fight because of my stupidity, his reputation would be ruined forever. Father would find out, the authorities would get involved, and Noah’s life would burn down to ashes.

And Damon...

My throat tightened, a bitter lump forming behind my tongue.

Did Damon even care?

The memory of the mall flashed behind my eyes. Damon standing right across the wide hall. Damon looking straight into my terrified eyes while those men pressed a gun into my back. And then... Damon looking away.

’I don’t know him.’

Those four words had carved a deep, bleeding wound into my chest. He had a girl clinging to his arm... a gorgeous, elegant girl who touched him like she owned him. He threw me away in a single second just to buy her a designer bag. He pretended I didn’t exist so he wouldn’t look bad in front of her.

Why was I sitting here hoping he would come? He probably never gave me a second thought after he walked into that luxury boutique. He was probably laughing with her right now, completely oblivious to the fact that I was tied up with my life hanging by a thread.

Tears burned the corners of my eyes. I squeezed them shut, gritting my teeth, desperately forcing myself not to cry. Crying wouldn’t save me. Tears wouldn’t untie these ropes.

TAP. TAP. TAP.

The sudden, hurried sound of heavy boots sprinting up the raw concrete stairs shattered the silence.

My eyes snapped wide open. My heart jumped straight into my throat.

A breathless guy in a dark hoodie burst onto the unfinished floor, his chest heaving as he rushed straight toward the corner where the other four men had been lounging. He leaned in and whispered to their leader.

Whatever he said made the entire atmosphere in the room turn deadly serious.

The four men standing near the pillar immediately dropped their burning cigarettes onto the dusty floor, grinding them out beneath the soles of their heavy boots. One of them stretched his arms overhead, his knuckles cracking with loud pops that echoed across the bare walls.

"Well, well," one of the taller thugs grinned, a cruel, vicious smirk spreading across his face as he turned his head to look directly at me. "Looks like your big brother actually has some balls. This is going to be fun."

My stomach dropped straight through the floor. Panic rushed through my veins like ice water.

He was here. Noah was here.

"Shut your mouth and focus," the leader barked, stepping forward with a sharp, aggressive glare. He pulled a serrated folding knife from his back pocket, flicking the blade open with a metallic snap.

I flinched backward against the wooden chair, gasping as the cold steel flashed in front of my face.

"Don’t flatter yourself, kid. I’m not gutting you yet," the leader sneered.

He bent down and slashed through the tight knots binding my legs to the wooden chair frame. He left my wrists tied tightly behind my back, leaving just enough slack so he could control my movements. He grabbed my upper arm in an iron grip, yanking me violently to my feet. My legs were so numb and stiff that my knees instantly gave out, but he hauled me up by the collar of my shirt, shaking me hard.

"Stand up, deadweight," he spat, turning back toward his men. "You three, head straight down to the ground floor. Intercept them at the stairwell entrance. Break their knees and slow them down before they can reach the second level."

"What about the Silver guy?" one of the thugs asked, pulling a heavy lead pipe from behind a stack of cinder blocks. "What if he brought backup?"

Silver guy? So Damon was here?

"I don’t give a fuck if he brought an army," the leader snapped, his eyes flashing with desperate, cornered venom. "I’m sure Damon Silver is a soft, pretty-boy rich kid. Smash his ribs and throw him in the dirt. I’m taking this brat up to the third-floor ledge right now. That way, when Noah crawls up those stairs, he won’t dare try anything stupid."

"Got it, boss."

The three men nodded and sprinted toward the open stairwell, as they rushed downstairs to ambush the entrance.

The leader didn’t waste another second. He gripped the thick bundle of rope binding my wrists, yanking me forward so hard my shoulder almost dislocated.

"Move!" he barked into my ear.

"P-please..." I choked out, stumbling clumsily up the narrow, debris-covered stairs leading to the third floor. "You don’t have to do this! If it’s money you want, Noah has money! He’ll pay you whatever you ask for! Just don’t hurt him!"

"Shut the fuck up!" the man snarled, shoving me violently from behind.

I tripped over a broken piece of brick, barely catching my balance with my shoulder slamming hard against the unfinished concrete wall.

Within seconds, we burst onto the third floor.

My breath completely locked in my throat.