Page 25 of Nothing But Air

That she had the skills. The training. The experience they needed.

But Teague kept his eyes on the map, his jaw working beneath that trimmed beard.

He wasn’t going to out her. Wasn’t going to volunteer her secret without permission.

She didn’t know if that made it better or worse.

Xander stepped forward from the wall. “How many are you thinking?”

Virgil nodded. “We need at least two more climbers for safety. Ideally four.”

Silence stretched, uncomfortable and heavy.

Eden’s heart hammered. This was insane. She was done climbing. Done with technical routes and exposure and the gut-wrenching terror of watching someone fall.

Landon’s face flashed through her mind. His smile as he walked out the door that last morning. Don’t worry, babe. I’ll be careful. The call from Kyle, his voice breaking. The nightmare weeks that followed—the funeral, his empty apartment, the way the world turned gray and stayed that way.

But Teague was going out there.

With Marcus Roosevelt and his hidden agenda. With maps pointing to cliff faces of shale and sandstone, where one mistake—one loose rock, one failed cam—could mean death.

He’d said he’d be careful.

Like careful meant anything when you were dangling from a rope above the void.

And with Noah running things from here, dispatch didn’t need her. Besides, her real skills were useless behind that desk. Had always been useless—she just hadn’t been brave enough to admit it.

Something tugged at her. Pushing. Pulling.

If she stepped back onto the rock, she couldn’t hide anymore. Not from grief. Not from hope. She’d have to face both—and find out if she was strong enough to survive either.

It was time to stop hiding.

Eden’s hand lifted. “I can help.”

Every head turned toward her.

Teague’s eyes finally snapped up from the map—wide with something that looked like shock. Or horror. Or both.

“I have climbing experience,” she continued, her voice steadier than she felt. “Technical skills. And I can call in favors—I know competitive climbers who might help if I ask.”

Virgil’s eyebrows rose toward his light-gray hairline. “You’re a climber?”

“Was.” The word had an edge she couldn’t soften. “I haven’t climbed in two years. But the skills don’t disappear.”

Teague opened his mouth?—

Virgil cut him off with a raised hand. “Two years isn’t that long. And if you can bring in additional help—experienced climbers who know what they’re doing—I’ll be grateful.” His gaze sharpened. “But are you sure about this?”

No.

She wasn’t sure about anything.

But she met Virgil’s gaze. “I’m sure.”

The meeting dissolved into logistics. Timelines. Routes. Backup protocols. Eden barely heard any of it. Her pulse roared in her ears, drowning out everything except the sick certainty that she’d just volunteered for the exact thing she’d sworn never to do again.

When Virgil dismissed them, Eden headed for the door. She made it three steps into the hallway before Teague’s voice stopped her.