Chapter 126: The Edge of Freefall.2

Micah’s POV

This level was completely bare. There were no exterior walls, no safety rails, no protective barriers of any kind... just massive, hollow concrete pillars holding up the exposed ceiling slab. The harsh afternoon wind whipped violently across the open floor.

The man dragged me straight toward the western edge of the building, stopping less than two inches away from the absolute drop.

"Look down, little prince," the guy sneered, pressing the side of his boot against my heel and kicking my foot forward.

I looked down.

My head spun with violent vertigo. The ground was thirty feet below. Down in the courtyard lay massive piles of jagged, crushed granite stones, shattered cinder blocks, and thick, rusted iron rebar rods sticking straight up out of the dirt like a field of lethal spears.

"Oops," the man grinned, a sickening, twisted chuckle vibrating in his chest as his fingers tightened around the rope holding my wrists. "Look at all those lovely iron rods down there. One little slip... one tiny shove... and you’re completely impaled. You won’t even have time to scream before an iron spike punches straight through your gut."

Tears of horror spilled over my cheeks. My entire body shook so hard my teeth were rattling violently.

"So," he murmured, his voice dropping into a dirty, disgusting purr as he yanked me roughly against his chest, "you’d better stick real close to me, sweetheart."

He reached his free hand up, his rough, dirty calluses brushing deliberately against my lower lip.

A wave of intense, violent disgust washed over me.

"Get away from me!" I yelled, throwing my head back and jerking my face violently away from his filthy hand.

The man’s eyes flashed with instant fury.

"Bastard!" he cursed, his hand snapping out and backhanding me hard across the cheek.

The impact cracked loudly against the open air, sending a sharp, stinging fire bursting across my cheekbone. The force knocked my head to the side, my feet slipping slightly on the loose gravel near the ledge. My heart practically leaped out of my chest as I scrambled to plant my feet firmly on the solid floor, terrified of falling into the abyss.

The guy grabbed the rope again, yanking me backward into his shadow, panting heavily as he stared fixedly at the dark stairwell opening.

Suddenly, a loud, horrific sound echoed from the lower levels.

CRACK!

It was the sound of dense wood or metal smashing brutally against human bone, followed immediately by an agonizing, bloodcurdling shriek.

"AAGHHH! MY LEG! MY FUCKING LEG!"

Another scream erupted right after it. A terrified shout that ended abruptly in a muffled, wet gurgle, followed by the heavy, thundering sound of a body being hurled violently down a concrete staircase.

THUD-THUD-CRASH!

My eyes widened in absolute shock.

Those screams didn’t belong to Noah. And they definitely didn’t belong to Damon.

They were the screams of the three armed thugs who had gone down to ambush them.

The man holding me captive went completely rigid. I could feel his fingers trembling against the rope, his breath turning shallow and rapid. His jaw clenched so tight I could hear his molars grinding together in pure panic.

I was right.

Noah and Damon were down there. And they weren’t just fighting back... they were tearing those men apart without mercy.

A sudden, confusing warmth surged through my chest, instantly clashing with the bitter pain of Damon’s betrayal.

Did Damon actually come? Did he leave that girl behind at the mall and come here to save me? Or was he just following Noah because he wanted to watch the carnage?

I didn’t know what to believe anymore. My mind was an absolute mess of conflicting emotions. I hated him for denying me, but hearing the fury in the stairwell below made a desperate flicker of hope ignite in my soul.

"Fuck! Fuck!" the leader cursed under his breath, his eyes darting wildly between the stairwell door and the open ledge. "How the hell did they get through that fast?!"

The heavy, steady sound of slow footsteps began ascending the final flight of stairs.

There was no running. There was no hesitation. Just a calm, heavy, rhythmic stomp that sounded like an executioner marching up to the gallows.

The kidnapper panicked. He grabbed my shoulder, dragging me so close to the very edge of the concrete slab that the heels of my sneakers were literally hanging over empty air.

"One step! One fucking step and I toss him!" the man shrieked at the top of his lungs, his voice cracking with hysterical terror.

A tall figure slowly emerged from the dark shadows of the stairwell, stepping out into the blinding afternoon light.

Noah.

My breath hitched violently in my throat. "Noah...!"

Noah was standing in the center of the third floor, wearing his dark team jacket, his chest rising and falling in slow, controlled breaths.

His right hand was completely drenched in fresh, thick crimson blood. Red droplets were dripping steadily from his bruised knuckles, splattering onto the pale dust beneath his boots. His face was cold, and terrifyingly calm, but the pitch-black void burning behind his icy blue eyes promised absolute, merciless slaughter.

Seeing all that blood on his skin made my chest collapse in agonizing panic.

He’s hurt! Oh God, he’s bleeding because of me!

Fresh tears flooded my vision, a pathetic sob breaking past my lips. "Noah... your hand... you’re bleeding..."

Noah’s gaze shifted toward me. For a fraction of a second, the lethal, terrifying darkness in his eyes softened into something intensely gentle, almost reassuring.

"Don’t worry, Micah," Noah said, his low, steady voice cutting through the whistling wind with absolute clarity. "It’s not my blood."

He flicked his wrist casually to the side, shaking the excess crimson droplets off his knuckles onto the floor. Then, his neck tilted slightly, his eyes snapping toward the man holding me like a pair of loaded guns.

"Get your filthy hands away from my brother," Noah commanded.

"Stay the fuck back!" the kidnapper barked hysterically, digging his fingers deeper into the collar of my shirt, shaking me violently over the drop. "Don’t you dare take another step, Miller! George Jenson personally ordered us to make your life a living, breathing hell! You ruined his hands, and now we’re going to take what’s yours!"

Noah didn’t flinch. He didn’t even blink.

Instead, a slow, utterly terrifying smirk curved across Noah’s lips.

"A living hell?" Noah repeated softly, taking a single step forward. His voice dropped into a pitch-black, demonic whisper that sent pure chills straight through my bones. "You think George Jenson knows anything about hell? Release that rope right now... and I’ll show you what real hell actually looks like."

The man swallowed hard, his face turning ghostly pale as he realized that Noah wasn’t bluffing. There was no fear in Noah’s eyes. No hesitation. Just the cold certainty of a predator ready to rip him limb from limb.

"Ha... Ha-ha..."

A wild laugh suddenly bubbled out of the kidnapper’s throat. His eyes darted toward the stairwell, then toward the blood on Noah’s hands, realizing his men were dead or crippled downstairs. He knew there was no escape. He knew he was never walking out of this building alive.

"If I don’t finish this... Jenson’s father will kill me anyway," the man stammered, his mind completely shattering under the pressure. His grip on the rope tightened until his veins bulged. "I’m dead either way... so fuck it! We’ll just die together then!"

Huh?

What... what did he just say?!

My mind went completely blank with shock. Die toge-?

Before I could open my mouth to scream, before Noah could even lunge across the concrete floor—

The man reached out with both hands, and violently shoved me backward off the edge of the third floor.